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By George Gurley
Lifestyle journalist George Wayne finds himself in an awkward situation. Because of cash issues, he says he doesn’t withdraw more than $20 at a time from ATMs. And yet, he’s a regular customer at high-end restaurants like Cucina 8 1/2″. Midtown Manhattan, where he grabbed a martini at the bar one September afternoon at the end of New York Fashion Week.
“Everybody’s having lunch here,” he says. It’s a coffee shop for hedge fund managers and bigwigs. He’s very secretive.
He wore polarized Oliver Peoples glasses, a Charvet shirt, traditional pants, a pair of socks decorated with what he called a “bingo” pattern, and Gucci loafers. She was in Cucina 8 1/2 to attend a fashion exhibition by designer Cesar Galindo.
Wayne, known as “G. W. ,” rose to prominence in some Manhattan circles in the 1980s, when he introduced R. O. M. E. , a photocopied publication filled with gossip and stinky commentary about celebrities, their loved ones, other people’s fashion, and nightlife creatures.
With its punk design and forceful editorial voice, the magazine caught the attention of media insiders and led him to work on Interview, Paper Magazine, Allure, and Vanity Fair, jobs that sustained him for approximately three decades.
But journalism in fashion magazines has fallen on hard times, and so has he. Now, in an effort to turn things around, Wayne, 62, is putting the finishing touches on a new part of R. O. M. E. , which he says will be available this fall.
The new factor will be a sort of blockbuster collection aimed at bringing back the look of pre-internet New York, with new curtains added. Wayne said he plans to print 200 copies and sell them to Left Bank. Books in the West Village.
He also hinted at a possible special collector’s edition of R. O. M. E. , wrapped in cellophane, to be displayed at the Georges Bergès gallery in SoHo. But on Tuesday, he said part of the task was in jeopardy because of a dispute with the gallery’s owner.
Bergès, who presented the first solo exhibition of Hunter Biden’s paintings in 2021, said Tuesday that he plans to move all R. O. M. E. exhibitions. to his gallery. ” We will have one very well displayed on the wall as a work of art. ,” he said.
In a previous interview, Bergès had noted that his disagreements with Wayne were not new. We fought and blocked for a month, and then we unblocked,” he said. “He’s going to send me mass text messages in the middle of the night telling me that I’m opposed to him and that I’m going to destroy him. “He added, “He’s actually one of my most productive friends. I love this guy.
Differences aside, Bergès described R. O. M. E. as a vital component of New York’s media history. “If you’re looking to get a sense of what’s going on culturally, in fashion or with other people, R. O. M. E. I gave it to you,” she said. I think in many ways, magazines have replaced the way they do things because of R. O. M. E. , whether others know it or not. “
In the nearly finished edition shared through Mr. Wayne, the new R. O. M. E. it’s an explosion of nostalgia, an album full of ambitious old names: Cindy Adams, Warren Beatty, Barbara Bush, Keith Haring, Rock Hudson, Madonna, Lee Majors, Tennessee Williams, Ed Koch, etc. It also comes with an imaginary verbal language. exchange with Truman Capote and thanks from Grace Jones and Naomi Campbell. At the time of this edition, Wayne was hesitant whether or not to come up with a feature film in the 1999 film “Black and White,” in which he and Mike Tyson had cameo appearances.
ROME had a cult following in its heyday, and M. Wayne is probably best known for his previous role as a cheeky interviewer for Vanity Fair. From the mid-1990s to 2015, he worked his way through interviews with a group of celebrities. adding Milton Berle, Jackie Collins, Fabio, Geraldo Rivera, Donatella Versace and Anna Wintour. His paintings for Vanity Fair and other magazines are collected in the 2018 e-book “Anyone Who’s Any: The Astonishing Celebrity Interviews, 1987-2017. “
Today he is editor-in-chief of Park, a quarterly luxury magazine sent free of charge to the homes of Manhattan citizens whose “annual household incomes exceed $500,000,” according to his report to the media. “That’s how I survive,” Mr. Schulz said. Wayne said, “You don’t have to write, but you do have to swoon and pay to run ads. “
“At my age, I’m still working,” he continued. When you don’t have a contract with Condé Nast, it’s sink or swim, baby. There are days when I live on a $1 pizza. And there are days when I have a friend who has a place to eat where I can stop by and say, “You have to feed me tonight. “And they will.
Mr. Wayne grew up in Jamaica and attended Munro College, a boarding school in St. John’s. John’s. “I discovered his calling at age 15,” he says, “when a school nurse took him to People and Interview magazines. “That’s when I knew I wanted to move to New York,” she said. “I just enjoyed reading about Bianca Jagger and Andy Warhol at Studio 54. That’s it. “
He arrived in Manhattan in 1984, shortly after graduating from the University of Georgia with a degree in journalism. He said he still lives in the same studio near Washington Square that he rented shortly after arriving in the city.
“My little shack is nothing,” he said. I call it Lilliput. I have a bunk bed and folders full of my files. That’s it. “
He came up with the idea for R. O. M. E. in his senior year of college. ” I said to my best friend, ‘When I go to New York, I’m going to start my magazine, R. O. M. E. ,’ and I’m moving on to putting dots between the letters,'” he recalls. “It doesn’t mean anything. I just like: “Make it an acronym. I’ve never been to Rome, but I love it. “all that this entails.
He set up the new edition in part at the SoHo Works, a members-only workspace in Lower Manhattan. He said he was not yet a member and had managed to express himself.
“I want Gen Z to understand what they’ve been missing,” he said of his business, between sips of his martini. “I think those kids today are fascinated by the analog era. “
Near the bar, Carol Alt chatting with Cucina 8 1/2’s owner, August Ceradini, whom Mr. Wayne called his “number one godfather consigliere. “Mr. Wayne pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the couple.
“How are you, Carole?” she said as she passed by. You are very beautiful. “
“Thank you,” she replied. “Are you doing it right?”
“I’m on the move,” he says.
Mrs. Alt moved with an organization of other people heading to a giant back room, where the fashion exhibition was about to take place. Andre Landeros Michel, a fashion designer who was also on his way to the exhibition, stopped to find R. O. M. E. in. 1992.
“I thought, ‘This is so wonderful, such a wonderful idea, created through Xerox,'” he said, adding that he appreciated Wayne making up for the lack of advertisers by photocopying classified ads from other magazines and pasting them into R. O. M. E. “If you didn’t have the advertisers, just photocopy them anyway,” Mr. Landeros Michel said. “It’s so ahead of the curve. “
Before joining the others at the show, Mr. Wayne pinched his martini and caught the bartender’s attention.
“So, Jordan, I’m going to order food, okay?” He said, “But I’ll stay like this. I’ll take it home, to go. August said I can get whatever I want, so I’ll take him at his word. “
He ordered medium-cooked New York tenderloin, Tuscan potatoes, broccoli rabe, and focaccia. When he placed an order for spaghetti, the waiter said it probably wouldn’t go well and advised tortellini or cavatelli.
“Cavatelli,” said Mr. Wayne. “I love you, Jordan. “
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