Sunday, December 23, 2012


"Can my Facebook qualify as performance art?"

I'm not saying I hate reality, I've just made my own which happens to be 100% fantasy fueled. Instead of embarking on an insipidly poignant expository piece which meticulously digs into our psyche like a lackluster college sociology textbook, I'm approaching the subject matter in a more shallow way. And I swear to God (read as: Suzie Orman/God) that anyone who has fostered a memorable presence on the Internet will resonate with the following banter that has been circulating my cerebellum for the past few months.

It's unequivocally clear we're living in a digital age. Our inundation with social networking allows us to forge online identities and tailor our personas in whatever way we desire. Our virtual existence is performative. Our profiles highlight this performative nature of identity by virtue of having the ability to select what we project and by doing so, create multiple versions of ourselves.

As an active participant in NYC nightlife, I've learned that the importance of having a "schtick" is an undeniable prerequisite if you want to be noticed. You cultivate your persona and display it shamelessly in the digital realm. You are then expected to corroborate the same fascination and aura in person as you exude online. In other words, you're supposed present yourself in a way that captures that latest Instagram photo you've posted.

My personal mantra is the age-old Italian phrase "la bella figura" essentially meaning "always put your best foot forward." Even if you're taking out the garbage you better be wearing your best pair of Louboutins. You know that feeling of being watched? I feel it every minute. It's like a spotlight that is always on me. I don't even go to bed without looking a least bit presentable in case a burglar invades my space. I don't want said intruder to witness me looking like a god damn muggle!

At the same time, this pressure can become overwhelming. Even though I'm a self-proclaimed visual entity and Internet spectacle, appropriately calling myself "Mania," I'm expected to be Mania around the clock. There are some days where I just want to sit back and enjoy a PBR and not dance on tables, terrorizing the local crowd gathering at whatever venue and slinging cheap vodka in peoples' faces. I feel like if I show up dawning flaccid hair and looking relatively tame that I will disappoint everyone.  However, my insatiable appetite for receiving an eyebrow raise is fed by the perpetual need for shameless attention seeking. It's ultimately rooted in vanity and narcissism, but the purpose for portraying myself in this manner isn't purely for the sake of shock value. It's merely to inspire; to ameliorate any feelings of inadequacy or insecurity an individual may harbor and to reject the axioms of beauty society bears on us.

Reputable sociologist Erving Goffman is known for his theory that we as humans are on stage every minute. We play multiple characters a day depending on the social interaction taking place: when we're with family, socializing with cohorts, or even alone. Social media's indisputable ubiquity in our lives has taken this theory a step further. It has become a whole different ball game; one can even argue our online presence can shapeshift into a bizarre form of performance art which parallels reality in an uncanny way. We are blurring the lines between the virtual and physical world. The Internet gives us the opportunity to carve our own space in this world and provides us with the chance to have our voice heard. I mean sure, there's that constant access to the web that is readily available to us from an array of devices which poses a threat to face-to-face communication and the overall annihilation of articulating ourselves without using Internet jargon...but hey! If you're media literate and conscious of the impact this digital boom presents, the possibilities are endless. 

Saturday, December 8, 2012

The SI Unit of Swag: Brittany Campbell

A few weeks ago I did a write-up (click HERE to read it) on NYC artist Brittany Campbell, who I fell in love with after witnessing her kill it on stage at Tammany Hall over the summer.  She recently contacted me about writing an artist bio for her press kit! It's posted below, check it out! 

Dubbed by Next Magazine as “Brooklyn’s pop princess,” Brittany Campbell is a singer, songwriter, and producer making a splash in the NYC music scene with her infectious and eclectic mix of pop-hip-hop-Motown tunes. A classically trained NYC native, Brittany dazzles crowds night after night with her notoriously energetic and upbeat performances. Her stripped down acoustic set accompanied by a guitar display her impressive vocal abilities reminiscent of Gloria Gaynor and Lauryn Hill. Her vast array of influences include Amy Winehouse, Aaliyah, Phil Spector, Robyn, and Timbaland.

Born in 1989, Brittany’s knack for music wasn’t initially pop. Her multi-faceted musical arsenal began to blossom after winning the Rosa Ponsell Opera Competition at Carnegie Hall, which subsequently landed her multiple performances at the MET. After appearing on stage in productions such as Broadway’s A Christmas Carol and The Civil War, she went on to pursue her musical education at Carnegie Mellon, graduating with a BFA in Musical Theater. Shortly after, Brittany realized her raison d’être was to make music.

In the summer of 2009, Brittany was picked up by Sony producer/engineer and Grammy Award winner Rich Keller. The pair worked on making music together until Brittany discovered the NYC nightlife scene and the influx of uncanny style, music, and inspiration it brought with it. Her music evolved to become more dance orientated which is made evident by crowd favorites such as “Clown” and “Call Me Baby.”

Brittany was adopted into nightlife after drag queen goddess Epiphany beckoned her on stage at Sugarland where she sang one of her own songs entitled “Nerd.”  The next day she found herself opening for Katy Perry at popular NYC gay club “Splash,” and has been making a mark on staple venues such as Highline Ballroom, Greenhouse, and Webster Hall ever since.

Now the SI Unit of swag, Brittany’s unique sound has also cultivated a relationship with her style. As a street artist she paints her own clothes, dawning her usual snapback and colorful attire on stage and off. Her visual and musical aesthetic blur the lines of punk and urban and pay homage to NYC’s cultural foundations.

In 2011 she released her debut EP, Nerd. She then released her full-length album Black Summer in 2012,followed by several music videos for “Let Me Stay a While,” “Oh Way Oh,” and crowd pleaser “Call Me Baby.” Coroneted as “Rnb songtress” by Source Mag, Brittany is the recipient of various awards such as Best Pop Record for “Call Me Baby” and MTV’s Ourstage for Best Female Vocalist.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

No Guts, No Glory

Check out this article written about me for a journalism class at Hofstra University by Class of 2015's Rachel Carruthers! Thanks for telling my story, babe!

Greg Mania sporting his recent hair stencil art piece "We The People" during the recent election.
“It’s really important for me to inspire people to harness their inner freak,” said Greg Mania. Hofstra University’s blonde tall-haired fashion icon works the unispan like a runway and brings comedic relief via social media to the school’s stressed students. Senior Greg Michael Mania is a 21 year-old Mass Media Studies major, with a minor in German. His parents, Bogdan and Alicja Mania, “right off the boat” from Poland, had Greg and his brother, Andrew, after moving to Lawrenceville, New Jersey.

“No one believes that ‘Mania’ is actually my last name,” stated Mania, leaning back and brushing his long, yellow-blonde hair to its skyscraper-like shape. “My last name is actually spelled ‘M-a-n-i-a,’ but pronounced 'monyah.' Mania said he adapted his Polish last name into ‘Mania’ to fit his persona. “Bouncers think my ID is fake, ha!”

Jenn “Jinx” Ramirez, a close friend of Mania, said, “I consider myself very lucky to know both Greg Mania (pronounced Mania) and the elusive Greg Mania (pronounced Mah-nyah).” Ramirez believes that both “Mah-nyah” and “Mania” are “over-the-top and eccentric” but also “sweet, sincere, and genuine” people.

Mania has dyed his hair 13 times and concocts his outfits from thrift stores in NYC. “I like to cause a spectacle,” he said, pointing towards a bright pink, nail (yes, as in Home Depot nail) studded vest hanging over his bed in his dorm room.

“He’ll tell me an idea for one of his outfits and I’ll help him make it. That’s how we collaborate,” said Lizzy Goodrich, a fellow senior Hofstra student. She describes Mania as “gregarious…ironically.” His persona attracts reactions wherever he goes. Ramirez said, “My favorite (of reactions) is when complete strangers come to him and ask for pictures.”

Creative projects allow Mania to express who he is, as well as de-stress and relax. “Depression is in my mother’s family and my father’s family,” Mania said. He deals with the steady contest of depression everyday by doing what makes him most happy. After his first panic attack in summer of 2011 left him in bed for days, Mania has learned how to, “distract (himself) with work and creativity.”

Mania constantly reinvents himself realizing that it is a “blessing” to be able to do so. Goodrich said that she has seen him grow. “Greg was more reserved when I met him four years ago.” One day Mania wishes to get his father’s motto, “No guts, no glory,” tattooed on the inside of his left bicep in remembrance of his personal strength.

Mania’s parents are from Poland and sometimes question his edgy fashion sense. However, his mother is supportive of gay rights. “He’s not your stereotypical gay man,” said Goodrich. It's not a big discussion in his household and this has allowed him to truly become who he is. “I was bullied in high school not because I was gay, but because I was different.” Mania defined himself in high school as ‘bisexual,’ but when he came to Hofstra from his public school in New Jersey, he said he was, “out and about," followed by a sultry wink. 

“I want to have some type of creative control no matter what field I go into,” Mania said referring to what he wishes to do after graduating in May. He defines himself as a writer right of the bat. “My perception of the English language is very different from some people”. I like to make sure my personality exudes through my writing.” His blog, Le Caberet De Mania, is filled with write-ups on bands and witty commentary on New York City’s nightlife, as well as his daily life. “I wanna make sure that if there was no name, you could tell that it was written by me.”

In addition to writing, Mania also finds inspiration in, “the whole blending of music and image.” He says that if he could have a job at Rolling Stone by day and a job in New York City nightlife by night, he would be content. Mania takes his inspiration from, “the streets of the NYC,” as well as his, “friends…anyone who isn’t scared of being stared at.”

Everyone knows of him, yet few really know him. Mania is certainly not as shallow as his droll comedy. After a swig of Jameson Mania says, “If I can inspire that one girl who has been aching to wear that t-shirt that’s ripped up or make her lips a little redder or get her eyelashes a little longer or that one guy who’s been, aching to come out and wear ridiculous clothing…then I have done my job. At the end of the day you define beauty, not society. If it makes you feel good, that's all that matters."

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Greg Mania Loves Boys, And Briana Layon & The Boys, And More Boys

Much like my previous music post, there's nothing that makes me smile more than hearing new jams from my friends. They go from my inbox to iPod faster than you can say MittRomneySucksABagofBurningDongs. The latest songs I've been the lucky recipient of were sent from my friends Briana Layon & The Boys, a heavy rock n'roll band comprised of three dudes appropriately dawning long hair and an eccentric front woman who storms the stage as audiences gaze in admiration and panic.

Briana Layon & The Boys. Photography by Ky DiGregorio

I was fortunate enough to hear a sneak peek of Briana Layon & The Boys' highly anticipated single "All Yours" along with a few other tracks entitled "Playing Dead" and "Rope" off their upcoming album Blood Words. It's like the sounds of all my favorite bands like The Runaways permeating through my speakers, rejuvenating the allegedly dead spirit of rock n'roll. The recently released song "All Yours" is a coy, playful head banger, fueled with infectious guitar riffs that's sure to be a crowd pleaser when performed live. "Playing Dead" is a powerful, blues based rock n'roll track equipped with a soulful vibrato with nods to Janis Joplin. If you're not listening to it with a glass of Jameson in your hand and a cigarette in your mouth, you're doing it wrong. "Rope" is a song that makes you feel like you're a high school sophomore who just discovered things happen after curfew.

Briana Layon & The Boys performing at Tammany Hall. Greg Mania fangirling. 

Capturing the spirit of Courtney Love and Cherie Currie, bold front woman Briana Layon packs a punch on stage. Listeners can't help but want to get up and head bang while this fiery rockstar saunters on stage adorned in ostentatious attire whipping her luscious blonde locks. Classically trained, her versatile vocal range goes from belting out her band's notorious melodic vocal lines to sultry blues records. Sonically reminiscent to AC/DC, The Runaways, Wolfmother, and Hole, this band injects a dose of badassery and rowdiness into the frivolous, overproduced music scene.

Briana has become a friend for life since I met her at a Rolling Stones tribute for their 1978 record "Some Girls" back in April.

So make sure you download their new single "All Yours" HERE and spread it like herpes. 

Also check out a video of Briana Layon & The Boys performing live:

Monday, October 29, 2012

Alternative Hurricane Names

I've compiled a list of alternative hurricane names for the National Weather Service to consider when naming future tropical storms:

Hurricane Yasser Arafat

Hurricane Casey Anthony

Hurricane Newt Gingrich

Hurricane JonBenét Ramsey

Hurricane Maleficent

Hurricane Pontius Pilate

Hurricane Susan B. Anthony

Hurricane Edict of Nantes

Hurricane Hyuandai Sontata

Hurricane Boo Boo Child

Hurricane Joan Rivers

Hurricane Christiane Amanpour

Hurricane Francis Ford Coppola

Hurricane Celine Dion

Hurricane Kim Jong Il

Hurricane Donald Rumsfeld

Hurricane Whose Line Is It Anyway

Hurricane Hakuna Matata

Hurricane Hurricane Hurricane Hurricane Hurricane Hurricane Hurricane

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Call Me Baby>Call Me Maybe

One of my favorite things about immersing myself in NYC nightlife is the tremendous talent of local music that permeates from downtown's creative landscape. Brooklyn native Brittany Campbell is making a splash in the scene with infectious, hip hop pop songs sonically similar to what would happen if Prince and Beyoncé had a musical love child.

Her energy packs a punch during her live sets. I popped my Brittany Campbell cherry a few weeks ago at Tammany Hall's Magic Monday, dancing like my naughty area was on fire. The energy was pulverizing, exuding from the stage like a Category 4 hurricane thoroughly pleasing my musical g-spot along with the bevy of punk rockers and social anomalies that the Magic Monday fête attracts monthly.

And as if being a classically trained illustrious performer wasn't enough, she harbors more in her arsenal of musical craft like producing her own music. Equipped with a Carnegie Mellon education, her throat is unequivocally the residence of a 60's diva; radiating a powerful voice that can hold up to the sonic enormity of songs such as "Call Me Baby," an uplifting 60's-esque Motown song supplemented with a comical and playful video with nods to various 90's R&B imagery and vocal parallels to Gloria Gaynor.

If you fancy stripped down performances, Brittany's YouTube channel offers a bundle of musical covers from popular tunes such as "We Found Love" to "I've Just Seen A Face," chaperoned with a guitar and a soulful vibrato.

Her albums Black Summer and Nerd can be purchased on iTunes HERE. My personal favorites include "Motherfucker", "Clown", and "Call Me Baby" (not to be confused with frivolous pop Top 40 hit "Call Me Maybe.") Make sure you check out her Facebook page HERE and make sure to download all of her fabulous music!

Thursday, October 4, 2012

People Who Would Make A Better President Than Mitt Romney

Anderson Cooper

Judy Blume

A drunk Huguenot

Victoria (Beckham or 's secret)

A roll of Charmin Ultra (FLORAL SCENTED)

A peeled grape

Terry Schiavo

Your local barista


Jake Gyllenhaal

Jake Gyllenhaal's pants

Jake Gyllenhaal's divinely proportioned pectorals

Jake, why won't you love me, Jake?!

A crouton

Your drunk uncle that asked you to play "Tetris" in the basement during Thanksgiving of '96


50 Shades of Grey (HARDCOVER)

Apple (actual fruit and/or Gwyneth Paltrow's daughter)

Kathy Griffin's cameltoe

Cars 2

Someone who is not a homo/women/Mexican/dog/poor people phobic twat

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Chanel Memorandum No. 666

I've always been oblivious to the world of high fashion, however since I started working at a consignment shop I've meticulously paid attention to labels and what people buy. Consumers are seduced by the iconic Chanel logo and pitch bitch fits at faux Birkin bags. As a creative individual who uses his body as a canvas, my struggle is with the notion that there are no new ideas in creating and innovating. How does the business of fashion correlate with self-worth? Do these high labels reflect wealth or convey taste? It's what everyone with a creative drive strives for; contriving a unique image that is unlike any other. Originality, in truth, is non-existant. Originality is a dense subject hiding behind false frivolity in today's generation. Is Greg Mania merely a projection of a kaleidoscope of styles and references from all over the spectrum? Well here's how I feel about it:

Today's era of thematic relevance perpetuate the theme of "being yourself." Top 40 radio exudes that you are born this way or that you're a firework. However, my ongoing struggle is questioning how much of our brains are willfully our own ideas and not just a subconscious stamp of what we hear, see, and observe. Consumers are so inundated with media and pop culture that is subconsciously seeps into our cerebellums. We invest money into a multi-million dollar skeleton with a corporate backbone and capitalist heart. However, it's designers who produce such beautiful garments that help stimulate the financial blood flow of the industry. It's the name you're paying for. It's like I can feel the pair of Karl Lagerfeld pants wince in pain as I pierce a security tag through them at work.

The idea which burns my skull is how do I mold myself to attain a unique style and not fail as many before me have by obsessively trying to reach the top that only gets higher as they climb?

My latest work is taking high fashion and leveling it with street punk culture, blurring the lines between two opposite worlds on my own body. I'm taking how we view ourselves when we put high brand labels on and smearing it into the ground and getting it dirty. I've made myself become obsessed with Chanel, Moschino, Dolce&Gabbana, and Versace and to carefully observe their aesthetic in style and wealth. I study the shoppers at my store as they fondle a high label bag. It's not about how much you have in your wallet, but using what you have at your disposal now. Once you see the beauty in a low-brow accessory, it instantly attains more value than any price tag. It's making $5 look like $5,000.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

My Birthday Wish List

-To tattoo "laissez faire" on my forehead

-A sweater made out of someone who failed the GEDs

-A giftcard to Anderson Cooper's dick

-For children not to speak for 24 hours

-A tour of Octomom's vagina

-A Ferrero Rocher the size of Willow Smith

-Skype (the entire company)

-Delete the word "moist" from the English language

-To engage in a threesome with Jake from State Farm and Siri

-To milk one of nature's more tame beasts (bat, eel, etc)

-Watch Mila Kunis get a pap smear

-To go back in time and have sex with a Hessian during the Battle of Trenton

-Bathe in croutons

-Play Battleship with Fran Drescher

-Drink with my friends

-Drink alone

-Drink alone while my friends judge me in the corner

-I have no friends


Saturday, July 14, 2012

Up Here Together Forever

As many of you know, I'm no stranger to the party that is known as Magic Monday which resides at its latest home on the Lower East Side's Tammany Hall. On its first night, I sat in the less than impressive air conditioned St. Jerome's sipping on a Bud unaware of the fact that I was about to be charmed by a sequin clad man with a peculiar haircut and 70's porn reminiscent glasses. Two years later,  the glamrock dance party has evolved into a multi-faceted event heralding a mass influx of local bands and performers, surrounded by a jubilant atmosphere with free beer, rock n'roll, and me probably making out with you in some outrageous garb.

The Derek Mega directed clip does more than justice to the creative landscape of downtown New York City. NYC's notorious rock n'roll scene is famous for the acts that have spurred from it over the years. Legends, icons, party hosts, and just a bunch of really cool kids make up a kaleidoscope different from any other part of the world and this video truly embodies what we're all about.


I'm truly honored to be a part of this video and want to thank Derek and Breedlove for asking me to be in it. I kind of had a pseudo-epiphany throughout shooting the music video (subsequent to getting kicked out of an apartment building at 2 AM by virtue of excessive fog machine use no less) about my future, work, and identity. We had a great acting coach; the divine, charming, and extremely talented MaryAnne Piccolo, who reminded us why we are the way we are and why we do the things we do.  Why we chose to come to NYC. Why we stuck together. She extracted it from the deepest crevices of our souls and put it on film, urging us to tell our individual stories over PBR and fog.

Many people ask me: what do you want to do? How do you want to choke the world?

...And then I'd spew out some thoughtless, bullshit answer which really had nothing to do with the grand scheme of things. Sure, over the past few years I was able to muster enough confidence and bravery to finally exude the person I wanted to be to the world. This video is dedicated to my 17 year old self, sitting in math class dreaming about David Bowie, freaking out the world with gender ambiguous clothing, and becoming a face (read as: hair) that no one will forget. So what is my raison d'être?

To be perfectly honest, sometimes I don't wake up feeling fabulous or like a million bucks. I'm still as insecure as I was 3 years ago. I remember on the last day of filming this video I dawned a severely faux Versace shirt (courtesy of Etsy), garters, and a pair of communist boots. The "Bitch of Bushwick" as I named it. Something that wouldn't surprise anyone if you know me. I wasn't sure if I liked the look. I had a knot in my stomach on the way to the video, but as soon as I walked into the familiar sea of friends on top of the Bushwick rooftop, a calming wave came over me as I was exuberantly greeted. People lived for my look that night. We all drooled over each others ensembles, held each other, and worked together to create a beautiful piece of imagery for the world to see. And I realized this is what it is all about. We all live each other.

My artistry, style, and mission statement is evolving and becoming more crystal clear every day. I realized, sitting there in a plethora of disco punch and Marlboro fumes what I want the world to know about Greg Mania. No more is it about validation. Sure, it originated from a very shallow place. Attention seeking, limelight hogging, and getting my picture taken as much as possible. But it's more than that now. It's about collective identity. I guess I'll use one of my metaphors and call it an "intrinsic zit." It's becoming more and more apparent. During the stages of infancy, the zit makes an appearance and hurts. It becomes more obvious and clear as time passes. Then finally: BOOM, it's ready to pop. This is how I have felt about who I am and how I want to make my mark in this world. It has become more and more apparent over the past few months.

I want the world to know that anyone can form their own community like we do. A community where you're free to be yourself, where insecurities fade away and the masks we wear come off. You may not get smashed with your friends like we do, but you may find a place to call home with people who love you for you.  I hope I can tell my story one day and pass on what I can to another soul or two. So they can find where they belong and surround themselves with the right people and feel just as limitless as I do now.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Summer Tunes Part Deux

Summer is the perfect time to sit outside your humble abode, light up a few candles, and drink enough beer to start making out with your landlord and get kicked out of a cab for masturbating. But, you're going to need a playlist first. Every year I tend to gravitate to a few particular songs that I find myself blasting in the car more than others. While terrorizing the tri-state area as your favorite left lane kamikaze, you'll probably hear these tunes obnoxiously exuding from my car while I speed past you to cut you off:

13. The Cranberries- "Dreams"

I mean, duh. Cruise in your ride and you'll instantly feel like you're in a Sunday afternoon AMC feature film.

12. Blondie- "Heart of Glass"

Blondie is always relevant

11. Cheap Trick- "I Want You to Want Me"

Ah yes, summer's proclivities such as having a crush and desire to be with someone. Unless you're me and just inhale a tub of Ben&Jerry's, masturbate, and pass out from crying every night. 

10. ABBA- "Waterloo"

If you don't like ABBA we can't be friends.

9. AC/DC- "You Shook Me All Night Long"

Drink Four Loko and get sloppily fingered on a park bench while listening to this gem!

8. The Runaways- "American Nights"

The goddesses of rock n'roll need to be present on any playlist. 

7. Hole- "Celebrity Skin"

This is a great song to black out to and then tell the bouncer you'd like to accost him in the parking lot.

6. Led Zeppelin- "Out On The Tiles"

My favorite Zeppelin record!

5. Paper Lace- "The Night Chicago Died"

I must have heard this song 5,000,000 times growing up.

4. Pixies- "Where Is My Mind"

Really into the Pixies lately and I'm not mad at it.

3. No Doubt- "Sunday Morning"

I guess I've resurrected my affinity for No Doubt. Can't wait for the new record!

2.  BREEDLOVE -"New York City Rooftop"

Wait until you see my friend's music video for this song (starring moi and your favorite glamdisco junkies directed by Derek Mega) and NEW version of this song produced by the immaculate Chew Fu.

1. The Kinks- "Lola"

The Kinks make my no-no area happy. 

Thursday, June 7, 2012

I'm Not a God Damn Fashion Blogger But...

As summer 2012 drops its anchor, I've decided to compose sort of a cumulative self-reflective lookback at the evolution of my style throughout the past couple of months. I feel like my artistry has gained turbo-speed momentum undergoing constant evolution and it's only going to get more experimental and over-the-top. Buckle up, bitch.

Here is a smorgasbord of the recent looks I've sported:

Really into crop tops of my favorite bands lately. So I've been ripping/fringing everything that crosses my path. Including humans.

Soho stories.
The higher the hair, the closer to God. Heart shaped sunglasses, homage to 60's and hippie movement. 
Sorry Simba, you look better on my body.
Handcuffs, because why the fuck not?

My favorite color is chetah print.

I've been fantasizing about long hair recently, so I've been working with an array of synthetic hair. Unbeweavable. 

Simply, boom.

Avant garde that is trying to be classy but reeks of trash. 
I was listening to Def Leppard one day so my denim just acid washed itself. 
Home Depot glamour. 

Punk around the clock.

I colored my hair red with a dozen used tampons.
Rosie the Riveter Warhol deluxe edition.

My goat. His name is Balthazar. 
Statue of Douchery.

These tights are my version of "sweatpants."

Tumblr vomited on me. 

Ok, these Studio 54-esque Lennons are getting more famous than me. Maybe it's time to adopt a few new pairs. 

Because I'm a schizophrenic hair dyer: yellow Cyndi Lauper 80's realness.

On the whole, I consider my look to be high punk street fashion. Usually any look I'm pulling has to do with what music and period I'm into at the time. I'm overwhelmingly cognizant of the symbiotic relationship between sound and image and I usually mirror and re-interpret the looks of an era, but always add my own magical Mania elixir.

I like a mild juxtaposition of religious motifs and goth imagery, especially with accessories. My wardrobe is 75% black, so as a perpetual mourner I enjoy fabulous morbid garments. Because sometimes I like to look to look like a really gay glamrocking Pope. I've recently been obsessed with incorporating an amalgamation of hip hop, punk, avant garde, sort of 90's NYC club kid scene into what I wear.

For me, it's not about throwing on a leather jacket and ripped tights anymore. Don't get me wrong, it's a classic and one of my favorite looks but it has become too stagnant for me. I feel like I'm at a stage where I'm going beyond the stud and spike. I want to explore and bring elements from other scenes and eras. Repetition is important, and once you have branded your most iconic look into the brains of your audience, then you may experiment and let your style freely evolve through intrinsic approaches. For me, I've got the big hair and glasses. Now I'm tip toeing into foreign territory, such as hip hop/avant garde movements.

Every article of clothing I put on my body has a meaning and derivative influence. For example, I don't just throw on an American flag shirt because it's "edgy." It's the emblem of thematic elements from 70's rock. It perpetuates the image of American society: American cars, American women, etc. My goal isn't to be trendy or sexy; I want to look interesting and I want you to think and to realize you're capable of molding yourself in any direction you choose. It's no longer about me anymore, I've found myself through myself. Now it's about making other people realize their creative freedom and that they possess the ability to relinquish their vision of how they see themselves from dream to reality.

So, I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes from here. If you care to scrutinize my stylistic endeavors and designer heart, follow my Tumblr HERE.

Well that concludes my first "official" fashion blog post. That was terrifying, but nonetheless thank you for reading, I love you!

Friday, May 25, 2012

Coup de Mania 2012

Hope you nuggets have been enjoying the recent influx of comedic posts. They were really fun to write and there are more on the way! 

Above: GregMania and his newly acquired goat-friend, Balthazar. 


Turbulent emotional anxiety, an insatiable appetite for success and change, pushing the envelope of my artistry, rollercoasting stress, and abundant amounts of spandex; I've endured and survived the 2012 spring semester with a few minor cuts and bruises but overall success achieving a 3.8 GPA and Dean's List. Especially when the last couple of months have revealed itself to me as a borderline double life. Student by day, nightlife crusader by night. And not even 21 yet (just a few more weeks---I feel like the poster for my birthday festivities should just be a big mushroom cloud).

Since January, I've been struggling to keep my head up and maintain a stable attitude about everything going on around me. I was quite apprehensive prior to the semester starting, worrying that my grades would cripple as a result of recent cirumstances. However, no matter how many times I've gotten kicked in the teeth, I'd remind myself the blood will only define any greatness I'm meant to do. *cue Rocky theme song* And I really couldn't have done it without the amazing people in my life, who have kicked my ass and made sure I didn't slip from my studies. No matter how many times I'd scowl and stomp my foot on the ground, protesting in fervent angst like a prepubescent 14 year old because I wanted to go to some event on a Tuesday night and stay out to 5 AM, I'd be reminded that those parties and events will still be there, however my grades should remain a top priority. Thanks for keeping me in check, it would not have been possible without you.

I'm really looking forward towards this summer and all the magic that it will bring. I'm making it my goal to reject any negativity and just focus on myself and those who matter. So bring it, summer, and buckle up bitch. 

Tuesday, April 24, 2012


Cheap whiskey, cheaper beer, fake eyelashes, faker nails, leather jackets, disco balls, late night booty calls; all the things we hold near and dear to our hearts. "American Nights" is a photography book about New York City nightlife through the lens of Brooklyn based photographer and Nuclears manager Ky DiGregorio. It scrutinizes the tales of friends, love, music, creation, fashion, passion, sadness, and hard work of one of NYC's most illustrious and beloved parties: Magic Monday.

I was on the verge of tears when I found out this book would become a reality. I feel like a legend. I frequently glimpse through my CBGB book and would think about how we're creating a second generation of the "Golden Age" of New York rock n'roll. I would tell Ky her iconic photos reminded me of the people I look up to and idolize in my CBGB book, a 160 page spread capturing 30 years of NYC's underground rock from 1973 to the present, only to be told her book featuring our faces was in the works.

A small town Jersey boy who idolizes 70's culture/music and dreamed about NYC stardom, would survive high school by styling his hair in crazy styles and adorning himself in gender ambiguous garments would eventually begin his journey to conquer the city of neon lights and dive bars. So this means a lot to me. I still have a long way to go, but if this isn't validation for my vision and future, I don't what is. So thanks you crazy wig-wearing, photo-snapping, partner-in-crime and all over perfect human being...and keep taking my picture.

I hope Iggy, Keith, Joan, Debbie, etc, don't mind making room for some more people I'm inspired by who are seen in this book. And I hope you, faboosh reader of mine, are inspired by us as well. Make sure you purchase the book HERE, available in hardcover and softcover!


Friday, April 13, 2012

Abolish Legislative Douchery

Since 1977, the Federal Advisory Committee on Blood Safety and Availability has instituted an archaic and discriminatory rule that forbids men from donating blood if they have engaged in sexual intercourse with another man, even ONCE. This bears an unfortunate circumstance by virtue of our nation's recent blood shortage, and if the ban were lifted an estimated 219,000 pints of blood could be donated according to Williams Institute for Sexual Orientation Law and Public Policy at the University of California, Los Angeles School of Law. It's a really fucking trite restriction considering ALL blood donated today is screened, and with today's technology HIV and AIDs can be detected up to two weeks before it is contracted. 

I myself have endured the effects of abominable prejudice from blood donating services which monopolize a large portion of my campus' social activity and fundraising events. Blood drives appoint people to persuade passerby students to donate blood, however make it abundantly clear to avoid students who fit a homosexual stereotype. I myself, notorious for an eccentric wardrobe considering 85% is dominated by womens' clothing (thanks mom), fear not to strut the corridors of the university in a purple cardigan from 1984. However, should I ask to donate blood, I receive a look of disapproval and repugnant disdain. 

Thanks to a brave individual and also a personal close friend of mine, Michael Heroux has taken a massive step forward towards lifting the restriction on gay men from donating blood. His petition has already heralded a massive impetus of 700+ signatures since its inception four days ago and has potential to get federal attention. By sharing and spreading it, we have a chance to lift this ban and save the lives of countless people. Tweet your twats, share on Facebook, post a bulletin on Myspace, or word of mouth works too! 

It takes two seconds to sign, so don't be a cuntbucket. Sign it HERE.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Nuclear Mania!

I rolled out of my bed in Long Island, vomited, threw on a denim vest, and made the pilgrimage to Brooklyn to shoot the video for The Nuclears' single "Myrtle Avenue at 4:00 AM." It's just what Jesus would have wanted on a bright and early Sunday morning. I was in Brooklyn a few hours earlier drinking the most potent margaritas ever, thus the subsequent puking pre-video shoot, and there I am 4 hours later getting styled a la Nazi youth (see below) and drinking beer. Pizza, beer, and rock n'roll. I couldn't have asked for a better Sunday morning.

Sporting a new look for the video which premiered at a jam packed Tammany Hall on April 9th! Affectionally dubbed as GregMania 2.0--Hitler's Wet Dream

The premise of the video was a recreation of a German TV show, which was named under fraudulent purposes as "MusikScheibe." Shot at House of Yes in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the set featured a "live performance" as a crowd of 70's-esque teens insipidly danced along to the infectious tune of "Myrtle Avenue at 4:00 AM." Check out the clip below:

So make sure you purchase the single HERE along with the B-side "Don't Like it, Don't Get It, Don't Care" featuring some of the most impressive guitar riffs I have ever heard (I'm looking at you, Mick) along with artwork shot by one of my best friends, Ky DiGregorio.

Thirty seconds into watching these boys rehearse my pants are already drenched. Words do no justice for my love of these boys. Coming from a music snob, I vehemently agree with their title as NYC's best rock n'roll band. Talented and captivating musicians who pulverize the stage after every performance, as well as blossoming friends of mine, I'm proud to say I don't go a day without listening to a Nukes tune. So make sure you check these motherfuckers out. GregMania stamped and approved. Boom.

Friday, April 6, 2012

Detox Diary

Well, if you've checked this blog for an update in the past few weeks you probably just saw a tumbleweed blow by. It's been an overwhelming whirlwind of stress, confusion, fabulosity, with a hint of mental instability. I just wasn't cut out for the archetypal college life as much as I was the for antithetical college life. Not many people go to class and directly after adorn themselves in leopard sequined tights and studded jacket and head to an event. I haven't been out and about on the scene lately as often as I would like to be by virtue of abundant amounts of work, but that's going to change in a few months. I'll going to call the movement Coup Dé Mania. Summer 2012. Stay tuned ;).

You need Plan B after staring at my legs

I feel like I'm living a double life in a way, so I'm thanking baby J for spring break right now.  At this point it's not even conducive to any form of a salubrious lifestyle. I would have let Donald Trump sit on my face for a few days off. Stress, stress, stress! Premature gray hair is not the look!

My babe Leah and I posing for photographer Derek Soto, BOOM.

In other news, I'm enjoying a few quiet days off home in the 'burbs. It's nice because I get to drink tequila and masturbate in my own bed until I pass out!!! That and my cat totally judged me when he saw me sucking spilled beer from my sweater. Also, my dad has been in a sour mood and I'm not really sure why. It might be because I didn't take the garbage out like he asked. Or it might be because I posted "I <3 big black cock" on his LinkedIn account. Not sure!! 

So it's been interesting. My battery needs recharging. Hopefully I'll get to blog more while I'm at home rotting and touching myself to Dawson's Creek. 

Also, I've been having too much fun with different hair color:

80's Cyndi Lauper realness