Bond No. 9 Loves Andy

One whiff of Andy Warhol by Bond No. 9 is Proust’s madeleine to me. It sends me right back to that night at the Palladium when Steve Rubell peeled off a roll of drink tickets and made me give my VIP table to Andy and his boys so they could sit closer to Anthony Quinn.

Or, flashback to the Mike Todd Room when Andy’s assistant, Ming Vase a.k.a. Benjamin Liu, introduced us after Andy and Jean Michel Basquiat’s opening at the Tony Shafrazi Gallery. I remember taking Andy’s hand — limp as a dead aunt.
“Is Keith [Haring] here?” he said, looking into the crowd. “Is Jean here?” Years later, when all three artists had passed, I imagined Andy at the pearly gates, asking the same question. But, I digress.
No one conjures up New York like Andy Warhol. Not even Liza. Which is precisely why Bond No. 9 pays homage to the mad, mod boho life of Pop Daddy with the December launch of the sixth in a series of fragrances honoring his favorite haunts — Silver Factory, Union Square, Montauk, West Side, Lexington Avenue, and Success is a Job in New York.
No matter where I went in New York, there was Andy. Not that I planned it. In the ‘80s, I preferred Basquiat and Francesco Clemente. Then I wrote for Interview. Later, I became thrift-shopping pals with Warhol filmmaker Paul Morrissey and Interview editor of 10 years, Gael Love. When Andy came to Miami, said Gael, he’d head straight for Jimmie’s Chocolates on Dixie Highway in Hollywood. Who could blame him? The little shop looks like a giant cookie jar. (Andy collected vintage ones.)
Bond No. 9’s bottle design of Andy Warhol, the Parfum, is a front-and-back, Photomat Sixties portrait of a young, Mad Men-esque Warhol at 35, wearing sunglasses, a trench coat, white shirt and tie. The scent is androgynous, yes — honeyed centifolia rose, white patchouli and cistus ambre against outspoken jasmine, lemony-spicy frankincense, and riveting oud. The drydown is a blend of sultry amber, intense red sandalwood, mulled plum, Madagascar vanilla bean, and, not least, musk. A portrait of the artist as a young scent.
Snag a flacon for you and a friend. Top it off with a side of DynoMighty’s Campbell’s Soup Wallet designed by Terrence Kelleman featuring Warhol’s infamous silkscreen. Its ingenious origami construction is tear-resistant, water-resistant, expandable and recyclable. Made from Tyvek (think express mail envelopes). Wow! Put your money where your art is.

– cyn. zarco

ART in Public Spaces

"Rotorelief," Robert Chambers, Sagamore Hotel

When you live in designer-ville South Beach, you don’t have to go to a museum to see great art. Or, wait until December for Art Basel to come around. Leave it to the savvy developers who not only created architecturally profound spaces, they also filled them with rare contemporary art from their collections for us unwashed to enjoy. We’re not talking those paper-mache´ peacocks, either.
Two Andy Warhol silkscreens, “Fatigue,” flank the front desk as you check in to the W Hotel. Out front, water cries from the eyes of three huge Sanrio sculpture fountains — “Hello Kitty,” “My Melody,” and “Miffy.” Not to forget Wynwood, Miami’s East Village, is a feast of graffiti murals and billboards galore.

Here’s our favorite, million-dollar eye candy:

W Hotel, 2201 Collins:  “Hoax,” Jean Michel Basquiat; “Harvest for the World,” Damien Hirst; “Drumstick Reagan Outlays,” Andy Warhol/Jean Michel Basquiat; “Sir Alfred Chipmunk,” George Condo

Mr. Chow, 2201 Collins: “Matador” photographs by Denise De La Rue

Sagamore Hotel, 1671 Collins:  “Rotorelief” modified helicopter by Robert Chambers

Wynwood Kitchen & Bar, 2550 NW 2nd Ave.: Outdoor and indoor murals by Shepard Fairey

DACRA, 3841 NE 2nd Ave.: The Craig Robins Collection: John Baldessari, Richard Tuttle, Marlene Dumas, Paul McCarthy, Mike Kelley, Kai Althoff, Cosima von Bonin, Huang Yong Ping, and Paulina Olowska.

“Harvest for the World,” Damien Hirst

Blog us your art-in-public-spaces faves. E-mail photos to cyn@babalumiami.com.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation: A Montauk Memoir

by Guy de la Toure´

   When I rented an apartment in Montauk on Long Island, I didn’t know I was following the footsteps of the founder of Miami Beach, Carl Fisher. Maybe my subconscious took me to this special place. My love of the 1920s and ’30s is why I live in South Beach.

   I read that Fisher bought Montauk, three times bigger than Miami Beach, for $2.5 million in 1925. He put in $7 million. It was his second, and last, dream resort build-out. His vision — Monte Carlo on the Atlantic. His motto:

                                                  “Miami in the winter, Montauk in the summer.”

But, dampened by the 1927 hurricane then the Depression, the heydays of Montauk Beach were short-lived.

   I had never been to Montauk before. I flew in to New York, rented a car and drove up on Thursday before the bumper-to-bumper weekend traffic. I loved it, especially riding horses on the beach and having lobster for BYOB lunch at Duryea’s Lobster Deck & Seafood Market. duryealobsters.com

 We watched the sun set (and Julianne Moore sitting nearby) at The Crow’s Nest Inn.  I wore my blue-and-white Swims loafers from Babalu. They matched the decor!

   One night we were walking in the dark in the middle of the road waiting for a taxi when we saw this “Psycho” – looking motel. Here is a picture of the Breakers taken with my iPhone 4.

The tales of Montauk live on. I couldn’t stop Google-ing. In the mid-Seventies, Mick Jagger rented a cottage from Andy Warhol and Paul Morrissey for $5,000/month at the huge Eothen estate [now owned by J. Crew]. Mick’s good friend, photographer Peter Beard, also lived there. It didn’t take long for the Stones to turn it into their rehearsal studio.

Mick would bring in his own bottle of Grand Marnier to the Shagwong Tavern. Bianca would duck into the kitchen and shuck clams. shagwong tavern

   Mick wrote this song about Annie Liebovitz, their tour photographer:

Memory Motel

“We spent a lonely night at the Memory Motel

It’s on the ocean, I guess you know it well

It took a starry to steal my breath away

Down on the waterfront Her hair drenched in spray “

(c) 1975 Jagger-Richards/Rolling Stones-Virgin Records