None more white... or anemic
Say goodbye to Hollywood... Gawker has a widley tapped spy report from outside the final MisShapes party. OH BOY!
and from Style.com: "The MisShapes actually had a reason for their trademark somber faces last night at the Preen party in the penthouse of the Soho Grand: After Saturday night, the trio's legendary Don Hill dancefests will be no more. The group's not taking the last days before this final performance easy, though: They're providing the music for a few fashion shows, then heading up to Toronto for an event to celebrate their new nightlife tome—which officially launched yesterday—and to DJ a party for pal Sienna Miller. "The book is out, the moment has been recorded," Greg said. "It's time to move on." Yeah that'd be cool and noble and Warhol if you really were "moving on" and giving this rest but you're not. You're just packing up your iPods and Dead or Alive 12''s and moving to Costa Mesa.
You know, when I get paid to DJ, I feel like a ham and egger just spinning off my iPod, even if I'm using my Numark thing. I still mix in CD's and records because well, I don't want to feel like one of the MisShapes, scrolling their playlists and "commanding the floor" with their stupid pale white thumbs.