vogueweekend:

Taylor Swift photographed by Paola Kudacki in Harper’s Bazaar December 2012

Summer playlist!

(Source: Spotify)

katemossinthenineties:

Kate waiting for her hair to dry in the nineties. 

Oh hey Kate. 

(via schlinkblog)

capitalnewyork:

During the preproduction of Damsels in Distress, Whit Stillman went missing from the set. 

His staffers, burned out from a day of location scouting, went searching through the gardens and parks that would eventually pass for a college campus in Damsels, looking for clues as to where he could have gone. Then, a production assistant had an idea. The clinking of glasses could be heard echoing off the Victorian temples of Snug Harbor, the historic Staten Island hamlet they were in, accompanied by faint conversation, laughter, hints of music. There was a party in progress.

The assistant ventured into the museum-hosted gala and circulated among the men in suits, hoping to spot the director—the beloved scribe of Metropolitan, Barcelona, and The Last Days of Disco—who had finally come around to making a new movie. And then, between men bearing canapes and women in big dresses, there was Whit Stillman chatting up a guest. The assistant politely waited for the conversation to end before interrupting.  

“I’m sorry, Whit,” he said. “But we have to get back to the scout.”

“How did you find me?” the director said, smiling.

“Whit,” the assistant said. “All of your films are about parties, so when I heard this one going on …”

“That was clever of you,” Whit said.

With ‘Damsels in Distress,’ Whit Stillman gives it the old college try | by Nate Freeman | Capital New York

It’s out today! See it and let’s talk.

bullettmedia:

Official Great Gatsby poster! Now wheres the one with Leo’s face?!?!

He really is that short. She really is that tall. 

(Source: senorgemma, via bullettmedia)

anniewerner:

NOTHING CAN COMPARE.

Season One, Episode 14, “The Countdown.”

(via bbook)

“Start fights.”

Four years ago, the name Moomba epitomized fin-de-siècle New York nightlife. It was the place where the celebrity of that moment, Leonardo DiCaprio, often celebrated his post- Titanic fame in the ridiculously exclusive third-floor V.I.P. room; the place that a steady stream of gossip-column items depicted as almost too hip and happening to be true.

But none of those past glories were reflected in the terse recorded announcement that played for anyone who dialed the nightclub-restaurant’s phone number on April 22. Moomba had abruptly and unceremoniously closed its doors.