Greetings, fellow chippies, and welcome to another edition of Manor Music Monday, today highlighting one of my favorite genres: Swing Era Jazz! Popular from the late 1920s through the mid-40s, its distinctively bouncy Big Band sound - those "swinging" eighth notes make the rhythm seem uneven and springy - guarantees that my spirits will soar and I'll be up on my feet. You, too? Then you're in luck, because tonight, at the Manor's exclusive "Jumpin' Junk" after-hours bar and dinette, DJ Li'l Scratch will be spinning one of its finest practitioners. In other words, it's time for some high-kicking fun with swing legend Ivie Anderson.  When I did a search to find pictures of her, it seemed like she was always laughing, or making others laugh. Below, she's having a fine old time with the fabulously named jazz trumpeter,  Hot Lips Page . And, yes, I would have. Ivie knew how to put on a show. Born in Gilroy, California, she was orphaned as a ch...

    In Williamsburg, before the rents ballooned and the irony calcified, there was a window of time when people believed they were creating something important. It was 1997/8 and for one humid, candlelit evening, we were in Notting Hill — or at least pretending hard enough that it almost held. This was before 9/11, before algorithms, before Uber and influencers and curated realities. Nostalgia has turned it golden, but even then, we knew something delicate was happening. Fragile. Possibly delusional. But pure in its own chaotic sincerity.   The apartment belonged to Caulder, a 29-year-old gallerist with no formal gallery and no formal income. He wore tuxedo pants every day and claimed not to believe in chairs. His loft had one couch, no television, a salvaged butcher block table, and a faint, inescapable scent of eucalyptus.   The party began late because parties always began late. The guests arrived in staggered waves, all limbs and linen, clutching wine bottles wit...

  Back on July 3rd, participants braved the Madrid heat to race in the streets wearing heels no shorter than 5.9 inches! This is a part of the Pride Month activities and both runners and supporters came out in droves for the event. Phew! My feet hurt just looking at this! Here are some more photos: Source: AP Photo/Manu Fernandez

I'm a particular fan of Bleecker's mugshot game, "Guess the Offense", so let's play today! What, oh what, could this ethereal earth angel have possibly done to land herself in the slammer?! I'll reveal the ALLEGED crime later tonight! Reveal: Hors, meet Christa Sokacz of Louisville, KY, arrested for the following!  Escape Second DEGREE (Identity/Facility)  Violation of a Kentucky  Order of Protection/DV Probation of Violation (Felony Offense) 

 

"Hey gang! I know it's summer vaca but I just had to call you, you'll never believe it! As a reward for my (almost) straight-A grades last year (okay, I got a C in chemistry) (what do you expect, I'm a cheerleader, lol), my parents just bought me a brand-new Galaxy 5000! Isn't it the most, to say the least? "Oh! And I saw a new girl from Austria named Sandy signing up for next semester and she's dreadfully pretty and I just know we're going to be life-long friends! She said she's going to try out for the cheerleading team. Oh, I'm sure she'll be peachy-keen, jellybean - though I bet she hasn't got even half my moves! Behold:  "Oh, well, see you in September!" The older I get the more stupidly sentimental I become. Much love to these two beautiful people, Olivia Newton-John and Susan Buckner, both gone now. (Photo Credit: Paramount Pictures) Wistful, but happy, Wednesday, darlings. Don't forget to show us your own cheerlead...

Source: TripAdvisor One of our resident Peckers, LMN, sent us an email about their husband stopping by the charming town of Hooker, Oklahoma during a roadtrip. According to Wikipedia, the town's motto is "it's a location, not a vocation." Ha! With just over 1,700 residents, what the town lacks in size it makes up for in humour! LMN's hubby knows we Peckers love a cheeky fashion statement, so he generously procured this t-shirt for the town's high school baseball team. To be seen is to be loved!

Greetings, fellow tramps, and welcome to another edition of Manor Music Monday - this week with an extra-long holiday hangover. But you know the solution to that, don't you? More cocktails! Obvi. And tonight at the Manor's swingin' club, "Pocket Rocket," bartenders will be serving Hank Panky cocktails , while DJ Li'l Scratch will be playing outta-sight tunes performed by a somewhat forgotten chanteuse who richly deserves rediscovery. I speak of Rita Moss, a dazzling jazz-pop vocalist whose "Talk To Me Tiger" from 1966 is a thrilling, one-of-a-kind LP. Known for her stunning four-octave range, Rita only recorded five full-length LPs (that I can find), and trust me, you'll never forget her once you've heard her. She's often compared to  Yma Sumac , but I think of her more as a precursor to  Minnie Riperton , what with her eerily floating, way-up-high soprano, ersatz instrumentations and jazz-pop stylings. The title track is actually the LP...

Darlings, throw on your pearls and peel yourself off the fainting couch — this Sunday, we’re going somewhere deliciously decadent. Tonight’s setting? A roaring 1920s dinner party that would make Gatsby feel underdressed. There is no specific year — we’re simply in the 1920s, the decade that invented champagne-soaked chaos.   Arrivals & Aesthetic The guests arrive in chauffeured Hispano-Suizas and Packards, stepping out in velvet cloaks, chinchilla wraps, and the occasional scandal. Josephine Baker glides in like silk dipped in firelight, fresh from a Paris revue. Ernest Hemingway, still smoldering with youth and trauma, saunters in with a flask of something strong and a story twice as strong. And Cole Porter? He’s already at the piano, turning your indiscretions into sheet music. Dorothy Parker is parked on a tufted velvet chaise in the corner, armed with a gimlet, ready to dismantle everyone’s ego in ten words or less. “Brevity,” she purrs, “is the soul of lingerie.” Oscar Wil...