Tragic news: Uber is no more. The economic debacle has hit home, leaving La Vie en Rose and the many, many other sites that lived at this innovative, thriving place without a host.

For those of us weaned on Saturday morning episodes of Style with Elsa Klensch, the pioneering fashion TV mag that ran on CNN for two decades until it was unceremoniously pulled in 2000’s AOL merger, there’s long been a desire to see another incarnation of the show.

The inimitable antidote to the fashion week, er, cycle (since it’s now moved on to Europe), is none other than the high-theatrics rock ensemble The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black.

Dinner capping an exhausting New York Fashion Week didn’t end with the port Friday night. I caught up with several editor pals (all whom I got to know when we slogged for WWD, and who’ve now gone on to some pretty great gigs) for a bloody hangar steak at the Frenchy bistro Belcourt in the East Village.

Following the Obama fundraising fashionathon, met up with my former assistant Robert Barr for a glass of wine at Indochine and a curry in the Village.

As model Jacquetta Wheeler picked through the Alexander Wang tank tops brandishing the single word “Change,” looking for a something smaller than the extra large sizes left in the frenzy, the plead to vote Obama reverberated through the space Tuesday night, an audibly emotional request from none other than Anna Wintour.

Even in my Tiger Beat reading days, I’ve never been one for pop star crushes. Ok, well there was that brief moment as a 7 year old when I not only would go to sleep every night with Shawn Cassidy’s album cover under my pillow.

Had the incredible fortune of sitting down with one my all-time inspirations, Phyllis Diller, not just once but twice in recent weeks. One of the all-time funny girls-make that funny people-Madame Diller (as her assistant advised me to call her) has always been true to her own style, be it her dead-pan and delirious observations on family life or her deliriously dead-on wigs and boots.