The pretentious and ostentatious gathered this past Tuesday under the auspices of a groundbreaking magazine that would etch itself into the forefront of luxury, via a silent launch at the Waterside Restaurant in North Bergen. It would be a night of celestial classless money totting gaudiness that would rival any similarly situated New York based soiree.
From the valet whisking away in my BMW Z3, I immediately knew I was under-dressed for the occasion; namely, the four DuPont color way Lamborghinis parked to the immediate left of the main entrance. Upon entering the former Frank’s Steakhouse, I was greeted by two succulent collagen lipped mid-forties New Jersey housewives that mistook my long hair, All Saints Henley, Hugo Boss one button blazer, and Santoni shoes as a sign that I was festive eye-candy without the hopes of formulating any recognizable structure to my words that would be so audacious to pose as a sentence. I smiled briefly as I passed them, knowing that there was an outdoor patio overlooking the City that required my attention. My ensuing journey towards the panoramic view of the Hudson would become an Odyssey in strictly the terse turgid sense of Homer’s epic.
My first detour was a woman from ECRU/NY, who was working the Braid Bar. It was allegedly a “luxurious” (this word was trending without the need for a hash tag throughout the evening) way of doing hair, yet I respectfully declined the offer with a politician’s gesticulation. Next, there was a Chanel booth set up for all the Glamazons that saw fit to add yet another caked up layering of foundation and make-up. After a brief word with HudsonMOD’s Editor in Chief Richard Pe’rez-Feria, and another discourse on the word luxury and how it is synonymous with silence, I finally reached the precipice of my destination. The doors were gaping open with the regalia that is the New York City skyline, and I took my final steps towards my final resting place for the evening. Suddenly, there was a drove of patrons with ill-fitting suits and overpriced prom dresses that rushed towards me. It was Pamplona’s Running of the Yves Saint Laurent sample sale, for the premier issue’s cover girl had made her way inside. The cover model for the first issue of this eccentric approach at consolidating Alpine, New Jersey resident’s interests was foreign born to these locals, but they had come to accept her as their own. She is none other than Harrison, New Jersey’s Daisy Fuentes. The ensuing step n’ repeat (pictured above) photo-op besides the kitchen’s double doors was quintessentially Jersey wayward haute.
The massive pillars and pulpits springing about from the gargantuan egos spun in a vortex of Babylonian conflagrations surrounded me. I was slowly losing my consciousness, but recalled a simpler life reminiscent of times without the drab cliché gatherings of a younger Mr. Saturday. It was a place where originals, innovators, and eccentrics congregated to exchange ideas, not business cards.
The HudsonMOD launch was impressive indeed; look no further than the various station identification interruptions from “legendary” DJ Chris Anthony to remind you exactly where you were. It was a Havana Night themed event, with not one Guayabera amongst the patrons joining the festivities. Maybe the luxury is silence motto of the magazine lends itself to informing its readership that you shouldn’t brazenly show off your stockpiles of legacy trust funds in these economically challenged times.