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HEALTHY FOOD TIPS FALL FASHION STYLE PHARELL WILLIAMS: Life on neptune WHAT WOMAN LOVE BEST MOVIES OF THE YEAR

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gadgets & Styles OMA MONARCH SPEAKERSA TWO WAY SPEAKER. The OMA Monarch is the new standard for a two way speaker. Two 15” woofers mounted in a unique enclosure deliver bass that no high end design using small woofers can even hope to match. 104db efficiency (1w/1m) means any low powered tube amplifier can drive the Monarch. Large solid wood baffles help load the woofers and make room placement far less demanding. OMA’s proprietary cast aluminum alloy horn and compression driver cover the midrange and high frequencies, with superb integration due to a simple crossover.

MISSION WORKSHOP SANCTION The Sanction is a compact weatherproof rucksack designed to hold the daily essentials. Built to last a lifetime with waterproof fabrics and military spec. construction. The Sanction also features multiple weatherproof compartments, urethane coated zippers, waterproof materials, and an internal frame sheet. Large zippered pocket fits laptop computers such as the 15in MacBook Pro, 13in MacBook Air, or iPad. Made in the USA with a lifetime warranty.

RJ ROMAIN JEROME SPACE INVADERS WATCH RUCKSACK

WHISKEY HOLSTER Oh hell yes. Blending perfectly with the beverage’s wild west image, the Whiskey Holster ($39) keeps your favorite bourbon right where it should be: on your belt, preferably right next to your trusty six-shooter. Made from high-quality vegetable tanned leather, it’s the perfect size to hold a 200mL whiskey bottle, and even offers up a tiny window on the front to let your label show through. Al Swearengen would be proud.

Retro gaming mixes with high-end timepieces in the RJ Romain Jerome Space Invaders Watch. Available in two 78-piece limited editions one with colored Invaders, one with white these unique watches feature round shapes set within a 46mm cambered square, steel coalesced with fragments of the Apollo 11 capsule, four functional ball and-socket joints designed to recall the feet of lunar landing modules, a dedicated plate of Moon Silver on the back, and a black rubber strap.

45TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION CHEVROLET CAMARO It might not have been available for each of those 45 years, but it has been around since ‘67, so we’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. The 2012 45th Anniversary Edition Chevrolet Camaro ($TBA) celebrates the birthday of Chevy’s pony car by adding 11 horsepower to its V6 LFX engine and offering 20-inch dark silver wheels, dark silver trim for the fog lamps and taillight bezels, HID headlights and a rear spoiler standard, body-color roof molding, a jet black interior with red, white, and blue stitching on the seats, white gauges, a 45th Anniversary hood and desk stripes, and tons of badges.

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Old Fashion Style Hat, $95 Black Blazer, $250 Smooth Cotton white shirt, $80 Khaki cotton pant, $150 1-800-568-8963 www.bananarepublic.com


therandomish CONTENT

158 BUILT FOR THE BEACH

158 A NEW MALIBI, IN A NEW FORM.

How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

10 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

120 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

40 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

134 EATING HEALTHY THE RIGHT WAY How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

70 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

158 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

98 BUILT FOR THE BEACH How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

179 HOW TO DRESS FOR THE FALL How an unassuming grocery clerk took the lives of at least forty-eight—and became Russia’s deadlist murderer BY PETER SAVODNIK

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“Fashion has to reflect who you are, what you feel at the moment, and where you’re going. It doesn’t have to be bright, doesn’t have to be loud. Just has to be you.” Pharrell Williams.

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PHARELL WILLIAMS LIFE ON NEPTUNES

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orty stories above Miami, The Neptunes’ Pharrell Williams is living the high life— surrounded by a mess of Murakamis, a closetful of kicks, and enough Vuitton trunks to sink a steamer. Mayer Rus takes stock. The view from Pharrell Williams’s penthouse makes an unequivocal statement: “I am monarch of all I survey.” Topped by a frosted-glass dome, the empyrean apartment floats 40 stories above Miami. A gargantuan great room rises the full three levels of the space, which pivots around a white spiral staircase. Bold contemporary art lines the walls, and sybaritic delights—an outdoor pool overhung with an improbable vine-covered trellis, a supersize purple crocodile Hermès bag—can be found at every turn. But the coups de théâtre are the massive window walls, which provide a breathtaking panorama over the city, across Biscayne Bay and Miami Beach, and out to the Atlantic. “Living your life 40 floors up, looking out every day on ocean and skies, you see the world from a different point of view,” Williams says. “It’s like living in a very interesting fishbowl, but since no one can see up here, it’s like a fishbowl with a limo tint.” More than a fishbowl, Williams’s penthouse

feels like the world’s most luxurious tree fort. “Kidult”—a portmanteau of “kid” and “adult”—is a term he often uses to describe himself. For the adult half of the equation, there’s his track record as a producer and performer, a series of triumphs that makes him one of the most sought-after talents in the industry. And his work beyond the music world is also undoubtedly grownup: In the past eight years, he has put his stamp on fashion, jewelry, furniture, contemporary art, and industrial design. But it is Williams’s inner child that is most immediately apparent in his quirky-luxe apartment, where he shuffles around on this bright Miami morning in a white T-shirt, sweatpants, and bulbous yellow Mickey Mouse slippers, his solid gold BlackBerry never far out of reach. His steroidal closet is filled with a teenager’s fan­tasy trove of Technicolor sneakers. In the living room, a pair of Christian Liaigre armchairs is drawn up to a low video-game table offering Ms. Pac Man and Galaga. And the home theater, furnished with cushy red leather seats, has been converted into another personal arcade. “I don’t watch movies here. I mainly use it to play Mario Kart,” Williams explains. Even at age 38, he says, “I’m finding it hard to grow up.” Childlike is one thing, childish another.


Though the penthouse bears all the hallmarks of an MTV Cribs pleasure palace, ripe for louche and Lucullan delights, Williams eschews the kind of bacchanals endemic to the music business. “I only entertain very close friends,” he says. As for the caricatured rap-star ethos of Cristal, hot tubs, and hotties and homies by the score, he insists, “I don’t even understand that.” Still, like any kid, he can’t resist a prank. When visitors arrive at the penthouse, they are confronted with a life-size and startlingly lifelike statue of Agent Smith, Keanu Reeves’s relentless nemesis in The Matrix. A gift from film producer Joel Silver, the replica of the grim-faced villain strikes the only menacing note in the place, which Williams purchased from Miami real-estate titan Ugo Colombo in 2007. In addition to his video-game addiction, Williams is a hard-core fan of cartoons, especially SpongeBob SquarePants, Family Guy, The Simpsons, and The Smurfs. It’s a quirk that’s reflected in the contemporary paintings and sculptures that dominate the apartment. A Takashi Murakami sculpture—a sphere covered in smileyface plush fabric flowers—sits center stage on a round white platform on the main level. A Keith Haring drawing that depicts his moppets being gunned down by flying saucers hangs in a hallway off the great room. And the stars of the show are the dozen or so works by Brooklyn artist Brian Donnelly, known as KAWS, who made his name on the street devising sly alterations to advertising posters on bus kiosks and telephone booths. His early trademark was a sperm-shaped character with x-ed out eyes, which turns up here in a series of prints that riff on an old Chanel No. 5 image by Andy Warhol. More theatrical still are KAWS’s mural-size odes to SpongeBob characters and banner-size paintings of Stewie and Brian Griffin from Family Guy, which flank the second-floor landing. His seven-foot-tall sculpture of the Michelin Man stands vigil nearby, like a security guard minding the shop. “I just like the pop life,” Williams says. “And I like the way KAWS looks at it. Every time you look at KAWS’s paintings or sculptures, you’re trying on his glasses.” Williams’s passion for collecting was ignited during his travels through the increasingly intertwined demimondes of art, fashion, and music, where collaborations and mutual admiration have been the order of the day for the past decade. He is a popular presence at Art Basel Miami Beach—the annual orgy of kunst and commerce fueled on


cross-promotion—stirring curiosity among the jaded gallery set whenever he appears. It’s a far cry from Virginia Beach (or “Normalville, USA,” as Williams refers to it), where he grew up and kicked off his career, forming an off-tilt house music group called The Neptunes with high school pal Chad Hugo in 1990. During the next few years, the group morphed into a production duo, with a signature sound based on a platform of luscious beats, sparked by tweets, blips, sirens, and a heavy layer of sexy sighs. Soon Williams and Hugo were shaping tunes for the likes of Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, Gwen Stefani, and Mary J Blige. An oft-cited survey from August 2003 found that The Neptunes had produced nearly half the songs playing on pop radio stations that month. For a music impresario to expand his purview beyond the recording industry is hardly a rarity these days (see Jay-Z, Diddy, and Russell Simmons). But Williams’s side projects have had a uniquely sophisticated spin from the start. In 2005, with Tomoaki “Nigo” Nagao—the Japanese record producer and designer of the street-wear label A Bathing Ape, he founded two fashion lines, Billionaire Boys Club and Ice Cream, which straddle the line between hipster and hip hop. That same year Williams’s fashion cred got a major boost when he and Tomoaki designed a sunglasses collection for Louis Vuitton. And in 2008 he returned to the venerable French luxury goods house to create Blason, a line of hefty, diamond-frosted jewelry with cherub, crown, and shield motifs. Today a dozen vintage Vuitton steamer trunks—some covered in stickers from customs inspectors, grand hotels, and defunct airlines dot the apartment. “We’re fam­ ily,” Williams says of the label. “They’re good to me; I’m good to them.” His recent entrée into furniture design, meanwhile, came through another French connection, which lend him to further expand.

“Injecting dressed-up luxury into hip-hop style and thereby influencing a new generation of guys to consider more than just a pair of baggy jeans a reflection of their youthful vitality.”



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