Sometimes, you come across random websites for a design label you’ve never heard of but…DAMN where’s the praise for it?? I’d say this happens more often for menswear. So many designers are overlooked thanks to very popular (and slightly over rated) brands like Lacoste and Rocawear and even Sean John. Sorry but its true! How many . . . → Read More: By Robert James
Love it or hate it, Paris Hilton is a pioneer. As a nerdy Jewish bookworm growing up in the ghetto Lower East Side of the early ’90s, Paris is my shiksa goddess wet dream and inspiration to succeed. Bowlmor Lanes, where I spent so many Sundays knocking down pins to de-stress after Hebrew School, . . . → Read More: Pomp Goes Paris
Pomp recently partied at Picante Thursdays, taking back the Lower East Side. For a native New Yorker growing up in the hood during the ’90s before its multi million dollar facelift I rarely return to these congested streets. But now, Sin Sin hosts a night of Latin flavor that lures old school locals and . . . → Read More: Picante
I was surprised to read about Junkies and Prostitutes in my ten year-old journal. Granted, I grew up on the ghetto Lower East Side of the ’90s, but still, seeing those words in my scratchy hand was haunting. I guess that should have prepared me for my preteen musings on Holden Caulfield, “He’s angry . . . → Read More: Bring It Back!
If you want to forward the white supremacist cause, do it intelligently. Bigoted entitlement is never smart, but you can at least package it as fighting for the disenfranchised white shitheads of America, rather than dementedly shooting a security guard and giving Jews from Crown Heights to Kibbutzim reason to rationalize their persecution fantasies with . . . → Read More: Viva Hate!
My mom bribed me into getting Bar Mitzvahed by buying me traif (non-Kosher) Burritos after Hebrew School. I loved The Big Enchilada, but I was into fame, sex and drama not davening. Growing up in the ghetto Lower East Side of the ’90s, I thought Torah was trife. Urban Dictionary defines trife as
adjective . . . → Read More: Bring It Back!
Sex saturated, but naive twelve year-olds, my friends and I cybered. Not with each other. Seventh grade the next year ushered in wet dreams, phone sex, my shrink mom’s birthday present to me What’s Happening To My Body? Book for Boys. But before I gawked at female flesh, I giggled over HotGirl69 from a Christian Sex . . . → Read More: Bring It Back!
Greetings from Chile’s charmingly seedy second largest city! No Big Macs, I order “guaton” a triple decker 5 inch round sandwich layered with meat, melted cheese, lettuce, tomato, and guacamole. Taking a launch boat in the harbor I motor past ocean liners, tankers, the Chilean armada, and sea lions basking on buoys.
My . . . → Read More: Pomp Goes Global: Mom Writes from Chile, Valparaiso
In seventh grade at my Chelsea middle school across from a gay bar called Rawhide, my Puerto Rican friend with a mushroom cut proclaimed his lunch time pizza was “Butta.”
Urban Dictionaryhas a few definitions. In the Lower East Side of the mid ’90s, it mostly meant:
“having a particularly illmatic quality; sweet; nice‘If lookin’ good is like . . . → Read More: Bring It Back!