What’s Santino Rice up to these days?

Happy Comme des Garçons for H&M day!

Now, it’s story time kiddos…

WHAT’S SANTINO RICE UP TO THESE DAYS?

The omelet was pretty good. The sky’s getting a bit gray. I hope the bastard decides whether or not it’s going to open up and rain because I want to go for a run today. I take a final sip of my coffee.

“Anything else honey?” asked the waitress.

“No thank you. The bill will do.”

She stood there staring at me for a few awkward seconds. Without my approval, and with a certain degree of unwarranted aggression, she poured me another cup of coffee. It’s as if she was disappointed in the fact that I didn’t want another piece of toast, a slice of pie, or another stack of pancakes. Her consolation must’ve been pouring me another cup.

Coffee, you see, is the favor item on a diner’s menu. Besides water, it’s the item that requires the least quality control and, in turn, is usually given away the most. As a matter of principle, the diner does charge a price for the quality arabica they provide their loyal patrons. For the most part, however, it’s the beverage that waitresses give away to boost tips or annoy people who just want to pay the bill and leave.

“Weirdo,” I utter under my breath.

The waitress– whose otherwise pleasant; yet aged, face is overtly embellished with drug store lipstick and purpleen mascara–contorted her lips like Sid Vicious. It’s funny because, when she did that, she did almost look like Sid with lips bust open on The Pistols’ doomed American tour.

Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” begin’s playing on the jukebox. The sky’s grayer.

I take a quick glance at the television and notice the pleasant morning news face of CNN’s Tony Harris. I zone into his commentary on the economy because, quite frankly, I feel it the responsible thing to do in this moment of American history. It’s 8:45. It’s raining now. I’m not going to run.

“Women’s Wear Daily reports that designer Marc Jacobs is canceling his annual masquerade holiday party due to the current economic situation,” said Tony Harris in a voice elevated in tribute to the magnitude of the breaking news being reported.

“Oh, what a terrible holiday it’s going to be,” I said to myself.

See, Marc Jacobs; arguably America’s most important designer, has thrown these homages to La Dolce Vita for the the past 18 years. Every holiday, New York’s upper class elite mix with artistic snobs wearing everything and nothing. Thrown in the most unacceptable levels of extravagance, the parties usually take place in lavish venues with excessive decoration and incredible levels of upper shelf booze amongst, i’m sure, other substances; although, I wouldn’t know because my only experience with these parties is in my dreams.

“You sure you don’t want anything else sugah?”

She sounded like Rogue in the X-Men cartoons right there.

“No thank you,” I say placing a crisp twenty onto the receipt, “The coffee’s enough.”

She leaves the dirty plates on the table.

If there’s any indication to the dire magnitude of the current financial crisis, it’s the cancellation of Marc Jacob’s party. Where else are we going to see yuppies in g-strings stare in disbelief at the creative director of Louis Vuitton in a pigeon suit? Can they even stare in disbelief? Do they even know the distinction between belief and disbelief? Well, collapsing hedge funds aside, if the most powerful American in high fashion is dressed like a dirty bird they can. A Marc Jacobs holiday party guarantees an expensive comedy of debauchery and that’s not to be missed.

“But this year it will,” I say aloud.

Indeed, Ford and Chrysler are on the verge of collapse and 1.2 million jobs have been lost since last year; however, nothing’s knocked my heart off rhythm as much as Tony Harris ensuring that the “Rock’n’Roll Circus”, this year’s theme, will not be curated by Marc Jacobs this holiday.

The rain stopped. I think I’ll go for run. It’s 9:15. The waitress left mints with the change. I didn’t even know they gave away mints in diners.

I’ll keep the change thank you.

// Santino Rice