“What are doing for New Year’s Eve?”
“I don’t know. What are you doing?”
“Hitting up 21 parties.”
“Can I come, too?”
Check out our slide show of all the best New Year’s Eve fetes in town.
If you only do two things tomorrow, that’s fine. Just make them count. We’ll make it easy for you:
1. Vote for Barack!
Unless you’d be happy to see Bostonista move to Switzerland, and you very well may be, please help implement change tomorrow. That’s all we’ll say on that and no, it’s not because we’ve got a problem with red skirt suits. (Though, separately, we probably do.) (more…)
Should you still be feigning ignorance to the fact that you’ve been wearing your “just in case” jacket with regularity, let Bostonista break it to you—summer is over. Say it with us… It’s over!
It’s time to back away from the flip flops and loosen your death grip on those summer scarves. No seriously, let go. We’ll get through this together.
Let us guess: You’ve lived in the area for years but have never actually made much effort to explore the city (and look like a day-tripper? Quel horreur!).
At Bostonista, we love brushing up on our town’s scenic history, but, like you, can’t stomach waddling aboard one of those clunky neon tour tanks and squawking up and down Beacon Hill. Instead, we’ve been satisfying our curiosity under the radar with Audissey Guides, a locally owned company that offers free self-guided audio tours available for download on its site.
A few months ago, we trekked from the Park Street Church to the harbor, but skipped out on an equally overlooked (by locals, that is) part of town. Luckily, Audissey recently released a new walk specifically devoted to the nation’s first public botanical garden. Here are some of our favorite stops in the aptly named Public Garden.
I’m not in the business of throwing around terms like “dictator,” or “fascist state,” but I will say that here at Boston magazine our candy supply is largely at the whim of one woman. This woman really likes M&Ms. Not that I’m complaining.
Over at Cambridge chocolatier L.A. Burdick, locals have a real choice, and it’s not peanut versus plain: a box of Barack Obama, or chocolate a la John McCain. Available through the November election, the shop’s SElection 2008 features assortments of chocolates “meant to celebrate the all-American background of two of the Presidential candidates.” (more…)
If you dig art but hate pretense, or just want to revel in others’ ineptitude, head over to the Museum of Bad Art’s (MOBA) installation in the basement of the Somerville Theater. The museum’s impressive collection was culled from dumpsters, yard sales, private donations, and trash day heists.
Each carefully chosen piece demonstrates a depth of incompetence nearly impossible to fake—misguided attempts at perspective, cornball subject matter, and/or bizarre color palettes. But while the art is bewilderingly, um, challenged, the terse observations by the curator(s) make this collection an absolute late-night “to do.” (more…)
Bostonista loves being driven around in pretty much anything. Except, that is, stuffy, malodorous hotel courtesy vans (we swear they must be universally manned by Fung Wah grads). Is it too much to ask to get carted to and fro in something a little cooler—not to mention greener—than those air polluting gas guzzlers?
Apparently, it isn’t. This month, one of Boston’s favorite warm-weather hotspots (you know, the one with the rooftop pool we’ve been raving about all summer) is starting a transportation revolution.
Yes, we made it to work today. And, considering last night was the annual Best of Boston party, that’s no small feat.
Creatively held at the Conley Container Terminal in South Boston, the summer’s most talked about bash (and most exclusive guest list) hosted 1,500 partiers and celebrated 350 award winners. For security reasons, guests were shuttled from drop-off points via trolleys (which gave the evening a bit of sorority formal flair) and school buses (which lent a dose of summer camp nostalgia) to the event entrance. As PR riot Chris Haynes spun it, “The school buses are hilarious! What fun!”
With such a vast crowd of winners, socialites, and publicists, it was impossible to get face time with everyone, but Bostonista—and our silk Alexander Wang romper suit, which was not a Fashion Masochist test drive, thank you very much—stole moments with some of our favorites: Mario Russo (whose Louis Boston locale won Best Salon), Ben and Tonya Mezrich (both were fresh of a plane from Paris, the latter wearing a spangled Paillette dress and Louboutins she bought there), an old man who says he does something in politics called Tony Nunziante, Jeffrey Lyle (Best Hair Colorist, Blonde), Bryan Rafanelli (who masterminded the party along with Boston’s crackerjack marketing team), and Debi Greenberg of Louis Boston (winner of multiple awards), among others.
And though we were too busy schmoozing and sipping on Moet , our cube neighbor just told us the Celtics’ NBA trophy also made an appearance. Victory all around! (more…)
Yesterday was dark, moody, with occasional downpours, a perfect backdrop for a trip to check out one of the strangest buildings I’ve ever stumbled upon in Boston. Squeezed between the Fenway and the turnpike is a creaky, century-old edifice built specifically for artists during the gilded age, called Fenway Studios.
Stepping in from the rain, I was greeted by a terra cotta tile floor, a wrought iron pendant lamp, and deep wood paneling. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see the elevator ahead—one of those expanding metal grate kinds that you can lose a finger in. All of which felt vaguely foreboding.
Once on a floor (there are four), the long hallway hosts an endless number of wooden doors, each with a unique knocker, some brass, so wood, which give a glimpse at the artist working within. Every unit has 14-foot high ceilings, a loft for sleeping, and boatloads of windows, all facing north for that perfect indirect light that artists adore. And each artist, some of whom have lived here for more than four decades, presents his or her own interpretation of what it means to be an esthete. (more…)
The next time Bostonista accepts an invitation from Chowder for an evening on the town, you can bet your bile duct it won’t be a weeknight. Especially if said evening involves the bar at Eastern Standard. More specifically, an evening at Eastern Standard that entails a flight of cocktails numbering in the double digits.
(To review: Chowder, weeknight, Eastern Standard, double-digit cocktail flight, not happening again. Any. Time. Soon. Or at least not until August.)
Here’s how it happened. (more…)
