The wait is over. After a LONG 18-months, Kevin Sharkey’s 2,500 square foot condo in the Village is finally complete, which means that he gets to be on the cover of Living.
The vibe in his new pad can best be described as Gay Asian Badass. You think you have it all figured out – what with the Saarinen furniture, shag rug and silk throw pillows – but then you see the huge rock and over-sized chain in the closet and you’re all like, “Whoa, don’t mess with this guy. I think he might be a badass.”*
But mess with him we will! Anyone who designs his bed to resemble a Bento box and uses monogrammed Ping-Pong paddles is asking for it.
In all honesty, he did a good job. I could live in this place (which means nothing really, but it makes me sound like less of a hater). And now, AT LONG LAST, he can do some of that beloved entertaining he’s always carrying on about.
Indeed, the housewarming looked fun, with its stacked Oreo cake for dessert and Chanel lipstick for Ping-Pong score keeping. But if you look very, very closely, past the balloons and the caviar and Alexis Stewart’s perfect complexion, you can almost make out a collective unease among the guests, a growing pall, a slight sense of foreboding.
Don’t get them wrong: they are damn happy that this project is finally finished and that the bathtub is full of champagne purchased on Martha’s dime, but they also are kinda wondering, “What on earth is this guy going to do now? And what’s up with the giant chain in the closet?”
Odds are they also are lamenting Sharkey’s bad fortune: After all of his hard work and sacrifice, his cover shot comes out the same week that Rolling Stone decides to go for broke. Oh the humanity!
No seriously, CHECK OUT THAT HUMANITY.