The Roof, The Roof, The Roof is on FIRE

We don't need no water, let the muthafucka BURN.
Burn, muthafucka, burn !!


LADY PINK rocks the B-Girl Be. The mural was so hot, I heard they called the cops.

Photo by the killer Martha Cooper.

Fame on the Trains

so last nite I am with my girl Sharon who tells me a crazy story ..

apparently honey was exhausted after a long day of toiling for another publishing company (whereas here at powerHouse it is nothing but mojitos and bossa nova in the summertime) .. she got on the train and sat down next to some skinny white guy and starting talking cause she thought he looked harmless ..

well one thing leads to another and they start talking about powerHouse and he tells her he went to the opening of Autograf and my girl, who part-times as my personal publicist at Syracuse, casually mentioned, "ohh, I know Miss Rosen" to which skinny white dude replied "YOU KNOW HER?"

Photo Opp

After a brief respite, Miss Rosen has returned to the glossies with photos in the July 10 issue of Publishers Weekly and the latest issue of Flaunt with Matt Dillon on the cover—which reminds me of my brief non-encounter with the man a year or two ago ..

I was at some Fashion Week party at Chloe. I went because it was, like, around the corner from my house; otherwise you know I don't get down in that scene .. I walk in with my girl, Jamie, who is madly upstaging me with her faux fur throw .. It was a good shoe party which means, ankle up—it was over ..

I was thinking, ohh this is dull, when what do you know, across the room I see a stained and strained grey sweatshirt and a baseball cap. "I know him," I tell Jamie and saunter over to Ricky Powell to say, "What the hell are ~you~ doing here?" Then and I get introduced to the guy hosting the party and I figured it out. Just call me Nancy Drew ..

So I'm standing there talking to Ricky and DR.REVOLT, his escort for the evening, when I see this fine fine fine fine aii dios mio fly guy and I just look at him looking at me. Then he notices I am looking at him looking at me, so he turns away. And as he does, I realize: ohmagod that was Matt Dillon.

The P is Free

.. but the crack costs money, ohh yea ..

no wait .. that's not the right line .. it's more like ..

the pee is free, but the drinks cost money, ohh yea !!

Get Money ~*~

so I am at Miss Claw's office last night looking at the layouts for Bombshell and I am getting emotional .. I was overwhelmed. I couldn't speak. and yes, you better mark this in your calendar because Miss Rosen at a loss for words is like a Haley's comet sighting—once, maybe twice in your life will you catch it ..

fortunately, it is a temporary state .. I have fully recovered my capacity to blather and want to share with you the extraordinary power of this project .. trust when I tell you this book is going to blow everyone away .. book design, ad campaigns, magazine editorials, all things in print will feel the effects when Bombshell hits .. shit is ridiculous .. it's madness .. it's brilliant .. and the killer ill shit .. it's all CLAW !!

A Night to Remember

As many evenings with Ricky so often are ..

.. to all of you, out there, in the dark ..

.. you may remember this brilliant line from the closing scene of Sunset Boulevard after Norma traipses down the staircase to the absolute horror of the press and police lined up to whisk her away for murder .. she pauses at the bottom, turns to the camera and says, "I can't go on with the scene. I'm too overcome," and proceeds to thank everyone, including us sitting in abject awe of this flawless fruit loop whose dreams have finally come true ..

well, much as I seek to emulate the incomparable Miss Desmond, I wanted to give thanks to all of you whose kind words of encouragement have kept me going with this blog .. you realize, I am sure, that this is my in-office therapy, and you are my unpaid therapist, reading in anyonymous silence as I go on, and onnn, and onnnnnn about me, ME, Norma Desmond

(really, see the film. otherwise we'll have nothing to talk about)

it is a wonderous thing to take a pause from my Entourage, to halt the endless missives of effortless cheer that sounds something like "splendid faabulous fantastic wonderful how divine darling thank you" so that I can blather about any damn thing I like .. you realize, the beautiful view of the Brooklyn Bridge from the padded walls of my cell do a touch to keep the peace, but it is this blog that truly maintains my sanity ..

okay, maybe not .. it's probably the lack of sugar and caffeine and alcohol and nicotine and weed and meat and late nights and long parties and stiletto heels and tailored clothing and just about every thing people in civilized society do to distract themselves from their lives that is what is keeping me on even keel .. because without distractions I am apt to find things like writing a blog to be rather relaxing amidst my otherwise hectic schedule ..

so tell your friends, send me love letters, reinforce this exercise in narcissism because you know I love it .. I mean you ~did~ just read my last entry about my weakness for worship didn't you .. Yes, I thought so ..

She is ingenious, sharp customer, discerning, crafty, diplomatic.

—according to my horoscope, I enjoy flattery. Shocker.

I know that if you are anything like me you are feeling a free birth chart !! It's a must for a lazy Tuesday evening ..

I just did my chart, Jackson's chart, and Vittoria's chart and I will now torment her over sushi saying, see girl we both have Mars in Taurus—we's a bunch of heffers for sure ..

But you know, I have Venus in Libra and it says something about "she likes to be worshipped" .. They call this a weakness ?? And here I was thinking it was just a lifestyle preference ..

Love it When They Call Him Call Him Big Pop-pa

Who rock grooves and make moves with all the mommies? (or rather one hot mama ?)

That's right—our boy Craig Cohen is a father !! Yea Yea Yea !! Give it up for the newest addition to la familia, lil Jackson Aller-Cohen !!

(Way to go Carrie !!)

The $10 Million Bat Mitzvah

courtesy of allhiphop.com ..

DHB Industries Founder/Chairman David H. Brooks was placed on indefinite "administrative leave" Monday (July 10) by the company's board while DHB is being investigated for state, federal, and internal inquiries. In a federal lawsuit filed by DHB shareholders, Brooks is cited for "a history of serious securities law violations," as well as making "false and misleading statements" to boost the stock's value. New York Newsday reports that critics were further angered by reports that Brooks spent nearly $10 million on a November 2005 bat mitzvah party for his daughter at Manhattan's Rainbow Room. The event included performances by 50 Cent and Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler.

ps: dhb industries manufactures body armor ..

Lesson One

** Always re-read your emails before pressing send, or you may find yourself saying something that was not quite what you meant, unless you believe in Freudian slips—in which case it's all good.

Exhibit A:

Email from Jesse Smith, cute cute cute ad rep at The L Magazine: I might still be young and dumb but a lot of those songs are almost 15 years old. Besides, I'll be 26 in the fall.

Reply from Miss Rosen: Aww 26 !! how dear .. I don’t know about dumb but young, yes I will go with you for $500.

Now this makes me sound like some lusty old lady, which, I may be on the way to becoming though believe you me that Chanel Age Delay is working wonders.

See, what I had meant to say was: I will go with young for $500 .. but it appears i forgot the "ng" .. Yes, that's right. I forgot the "ng" ..

Yes.
Right.
Sure.

Would you look at that. I don't even believe it myself.

darlings ..

I rather adore feedback because, as I know you know, nothing makes me more happy than lots and lots of lovely attention .. but sugaplums if you post a comment please sign your name—otherwise how will I know it is ~you~ ?

Meet the Beavis

.. so I am having lunch with the illustrious Mark Brown of Photo District News when he turns to me and says, "Miss Rosen you are so enigmatic" to which I sort of "Huhh Huhh Huhh" like my name is Butthead.

Another classic moment from a classy dame.

Red Hot

ohmagod do you remember Red Hots ? I loved those lil cinamminy fuckers .. you know, I even think the name of our crew at Camp one summer was the Red Hots—this was in the early 80s, people, 81 or 82, we went with what we had on hand, or in pocket ..

But you know mah girl Claw, yeaa .. she is RED HOT with new sunglasses available at Pat Fields ..

You know when I rock that Claw Money gear I get these guys shouting me out:

Yo! Is THAT you ??
Hey! You know HER ??
Psst! What you WRITE ??*

(*this is kinda embarrassing, cause I'm like, "umm, press releases? sponsorship proposals? catalogue copy?")

but tell your friends, Claw got this new book, Bombshell, coming out next spring .. one thing is for sure: this sure as hell ain't your granddaddy's graff book ..

Go Go Maripol ~*~

so I receive an invitation to the home of the divine Miss Maripol, author of the greatest single book of 80s inspiration Maripolarama and when I arrive Roberta Bayley, Lee Childers, and Danny Fields are already there and it is everything I can do to make sure I do not fall over like some sort of gawky lil freak.

And there's Lee, holding open a copy of We're Desperate, the single greatest book of West Coast punk inspiration by my honey (and personal photographer) Jim Jocoy, pointing to a picture and saying "That's me!" with a huge grin, and Maripol saying, "You know I was looking at that photo the other day saying, 'He looks so familiar.'"

Then Maripol asks me, "What time is the movie?" and I say "7:05" and Roberta asks, "What are you going to see?" and I say, "The Devil Wears Prada" and Roberta says, "Oh we tried to see the 2:30 show but it was sold out," and Maripol says, "Not to worry. I have a plan." And I never worry because when it comes to getting in somewhere, Maripol rules the world. I have been with her on countless occassions where she simply slipped past security, past long ass lines, and got us in without so much as a blink. Truly, this woman is a professional.

Indeed the show was sold out, but a woman with a plan never fails.

And so we saw the film which made me think I have to stop wearing cotton and spandex and sneakers all the time. But then I think fuck it, my stilettos are collecting dust, but I'm not about to get up in Blahniks so I can sit in an office all day long. That's just asking for foot surgery. But then I think, I should get dressed when I go out. Stop rocking stretch jeans and sweatshirts. But then I think, where the hell am I going? Mostly back and forth across the Brooklyn Bridge. Not really a high-fashion look for the summer.

And so the stilettos collect dust and the Westwood suit sits alongside my Lagerfeld and Richard Tyler gowns, wondering if I can still fit my fat ass into em. Why I bought couture in my days of Diet Coke thinking it would always fit I will never know ..