
The reigning downtown It party known as Misshapes came to a neon-tinged end early Sunday morning.
In line the kids passed their time smoking, checking one another out and eating free ice cream. Mark Hunter, the party photographer better known as the Cobrasnake, bopped around snapping photos of people. Mr. Tatreau-Sherwood had a broken foot, but that did not hinder his style. Decked out in shorts and a bow tie, he had sheathed his crutches in gold lamé, made from a pair of American Apparel leggings snipped in half. Ms. Lezark, who has become a designer muse with mentions in Vogue, teetered around in an expensive-looking black frock and shiny gray booties.
“They came to New York and they set it ablaze,” Jimmy Webb, 50, the wiry manager of the East Village punk boutique Trash and Vaudeville, said of the trio. “I was around for the Studio 54 days, and this is the only thing that ever matched it.”
Inside the club the dance floor was never less than packed. Fed by a soundtrack of almost-new music (Bloc Party, Arcade Fire) and retro kitsch (Cher, “All I Want for Christmas”), the dancing crowd made full use of the stage, the tables, the banquettes and a stripper pole. In the D.J. booth, which the party’s founders often outsource to celebrities, the model Agyness Deyn took a turn, alongside other regulars like Spencer Product and the apprentice Misshape, Jackson Pollis. Judging by the scene ’80s spandex and ’90s stripes are hot (again) and marching-band uniforms are the new new thing.
Appropriately enough for a crowd hung up on the fashions and music of the past, the nostalgizing began almost immediately.
“It’s the end of an era, darling,” said Jonny Makeup, a devotee who will be writing a blog on a new online magazine at misshapes.com.
But since a central tenet of hipsterism is an avowed disdain for all things hipster, and since half the fun of Misshapes has always been making fun of Misshapes, some people were ready for the denouement. Jeremy Lipkin, a short-shorts-wearing art director from Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and two of his friends left before midnight. “We’re all adults here,” Mr. Lipkin, 23, said. “It’s time to move on.”
For their part the Misshapes crew also seemed prepared to say good-bye. Though the three founders have become fashion and media darlings, their party has suffered a backlash. Sleep, Mr. Nicol said, is newly appealing.
The lights at this one went on at 4 a.m., but the kids kept dancing, cheering and waving their arms. Mr. Meriam snapped more photos. For a few moments, the prevailing feeling was sincere, overwhelming fun.
The final song was “Disco 2000,” recorded by Pulp. From the D.J. booth Mr. Pollis sprayed the crowd with water. The Misshapes hugged; Ms. Lezark smiled.
Nearby a man in pegged jeans, pointy brown ankle boots and an oversize jersey vest looked forlorn. “Misshapes is so over,” he said, and sighed.
Link: "The Last Night of Misshapes: Hip, Post-New-Wave and Through" By MELENA RYZIK, The New York Times