Fresh off his naked-in-the-wilderness campaign for Wrangler jeans, Ryan McGinley's been tapped for a...naked-in-the-wilderness campaign for Levi's jeans. (All of this, of course, follows an ongoing career fascination with nudity in the wilderness.) The campaign Web site, levis.com/goforth, launches tomorrow.

[Creative Review via Selectism]

Given our exhaustive coverage of the Milan and Paris shows, you might have thought we'd overlooked São Paulo's own festival of Brazilian apparel (which, not surprisingly, includes a very healthy dose of beachwear). You would be wrong—though sometimes it takes a bit longer to find the actual clothing. (Just for the record: This one's from Movimento, and you're welcome.)

The woman whose poster graced the bedroom of every single guy who came of age in the seventies—and a good many before and after—died of cancer in Santa Monica today. After her iconic portrayal of Jill Munroe in Charlie's Angels, Fawcett took on serious roles in the eighties and Playboy in the nineties. Of her Angels days (pictured), she noted, "When the show got to be No. 3, I figured it was our acting. When it got to be No. 1, I decided it could only be because none of us wears a bra." She was 62.

[NYT]

Dad never asks for much—maybe that's why he's the recipient of such predictable booty come Father's Day. (In case you forgot, that's Sunday.) In the name of better gifting, we've sampled two delicious whiskeys guaranteed to trump cuff links.

First is the new 30-year-old Ardmore, a highly limited single malt scotch, available exclusively in the States. Ardmore (unlike most Highlanders) peats its barley; this one is bottled at cask strength and individually numbered. With water, it just sings, with notes of smoke, honeysuckle, and licorice. It's a game-changer. But at close to $500, in these lean times, Dad might question your budgeting, if not your taste. And of course, there's always good ol' American bourbon. Willett Pot Still Reserve appeared in 2008, but the family's been distilling spirits for centuries. All that practice pays off in this delicate, hard-to-quit bourbon, bottled in a slick decanter shaped like—you guessed it—a pot still (pictured). It's an odd duck on the liquor-cabinet shelf, but the good news is, with its subtle hints of vanilla and coconut, it won't be there long. The coup de grâce: Sure be a shame for Pops to drink alone…
Ardmore 30 year, $449.99, ardmorewhisky.com; Willett Pot Still Reserve, $39, kentuckybourbonwhiskey.com

Terry Richardson shooting on location for the 2010 Pirelli calendar.

[via Refinery 29]

There was a time not too long ago when a martini meant one thing: ice-cold vodka—usually from a smoked-glass, tricked-out bottle, with a healthy advertising budget—and a twist. Call it the Wall Street special. Of course, there was also a time not too long ago when the Dow was at 14,000 and General Motors was a healthy business. Things change.

Now gin is making something of a comeback, with super-premium sales up 49 percent this year, and with it comes its rightful partner in crime: vermouth. And though how-dry-can-you-go anecdotes about martinis abound—let a ray of sunlight shine through a vermouth bottle onto the gin, Luis Buñuel famously recommended—without it, frankly, you don't have a martini.

"When I opened Pegu Club in 2005, nobody was serving wet martinis," says Audrey Saunders, one of Manhattan's premier mixologists. Now she serves the wetter-than-wet Fitty-Fitty. And she's not alone. "Gin and vermouth complement each other as nicely as ham and eggs," says Toby Maloney, partner at Chicago's The Violet Hour. "The botanicals play off each other in a myriad of strata." He attributes our long-standing vermouth aversion to misunderstanding. It's a wine, not a spirit. It spoils. Keep yours in the fridge, and chuck it when it turns.

It's time to embrace the stuff, today in particular: National Martini Day. (Well, sources disagree on the exact date, but every day, in our opinion, deserves to be.) Jim Meehan, of New York's PDT, a fellow gin (and vermouth) appreciator, suggests a traditional ratio of 3:1 gin to vermouth. Or, go big with the Fitty-Fitty. Meet vermouth. Shake hands. And say you're sorry for your years of neglect.

FITTY-FITTY (Audrey Saunders, The Pegu Club)
1 ½ oz. Plymouth gin
1 ½ oz. Dolin Dry Vermouth
1 good dash orange bitters
Stir over ice, stain into a chilled cocktail glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.

CLASSIC MARTINI (Jim Meehan, PDT)
2 ½ oz. Plymouth gin
¾ oz. Noilly Prat dry vermouth
Put everything in a mixing glass, then add ice. Stir and strain into a chilled coupe. Garnish with a lemon twist.

On-the-rocks or neat guys, take a pass. Everyone else may want to check out Jill Santopietro's handy bitters roundup at The Moment, a helpful guide (and, for the truly ambitious, recipe) to the generally misunderstood or ignored cocktail component. We've noticed that nonpotable bitters—an infusion of a herbs, barks, fruits, or aromatics in a high-proof liquor used to complement cocktails—are appearing at more and more bars and restaurants. The brand of the moment, Bittermens, developed by a husband and wife team, can now appear at your place, too—it goes on sale on today. (That's some well-reasoned diversifying, given that the wife in question, Janet Glasser, works in finance.) You don't have to take our word for it—just ask the pros. Prime spots like Death & Company and Mayahuel are already shaking it into their drinks.
About $15, available at bittermens.com

As if Portland, Oregon—reputed to have the most microbreweries per capita of any U.S. city—needed any further tourist attractions, porn star Ron "The Hedgehog" Jeremy opens his first swingers' club, Club Sesso, in the city later this month. (One guess what "sesso" means in italiano.) In our ongoing effort to provide you with up-to-date style tips anywhere and everywhere, here's a small selection from the Sesso dress code:

Recommended:
- Casual slacks or designer jeans
- Button-down or pullover collared shirt
- "Dress-shorts"

Unacceptable:
- Work-style blue jeans
- Muscle shirts
- Workout gear
- Hats (religious head coverings welcome)

And for the ladies: "whatever makes you feel sexy & sassy."

[via Transracial]

When jewelry designer Evan Yurman told us about his recent high-speed supercar sojourn through the South for our road trips feature, he tipped us off to another sort of road-less-traveled destination that, frankly, we just didn't have the space for at the time. (There was also a certain, um, overblown media scare going 'round at the time about a porcine-related influenza outbreak that made a trip to the Yucatán seem foolhardy, if not death-defying.) Those problems now assuaged, we think it's high time to share what Yurman had to say. (And send a postcard, won't you?)

"My fiancée and I went to Tulum, which we ended up hating—so we just hit the road and started driving our rental car with the windows down to a place called Chichin Itza. It was about a hundred degrees, and there were all these cenotes along the way—natural waterholes, sometimes with underwater caves, that you can go swimming in. Some cost a quarter, some a dollar; some are free. We rolled the windows down and turned the air-conditioning off and just pulled over at every cenote we saw—probably eight or ten—and went swimming.

"When we got to Chichin Itza, we saw the ruins, and a guide there had this really unique gold ring on. I asked him where he got it, and he told me about this town called Merida. Very few people know about it. We got there and were trying to figure out where to stay; the information place directed us to a Hyatt, which was a total dump with about 200 rooms—so I thought I'd try to find the place with the fewest rooms. We ended up finding this place with seven. It was in the worst part of town, but once you got inside the doors it was like an eighteenth-century palazzo—just unbelievably beautiful. It was like staying at a private mansion in Morocco: five-star service, Four Seasons standards. I called in sick to work for four days.

"The roots of Merida date from the sixteenth century; later it became, briefly, the wealthiest city in the Americas because it supplied all the hemp and rope for Spain's huge fleet of ships. And then it all just died—so there's all these mansions in town which are mostly dormant; it's like a ghost town, with 20 or 30 mansions lining some streets, all of them unoccupied. You can buy them for $100,000 or so.

"The butler at the hotel was a ninth-generation Merida guy—his family owned about a third of the city, but he was interested in opening hotels—and he fed us these drinks made with this huge green leaf minced up with citrus and sugar in a blender, and it was like a natural amphetamine. Everything got very vivid—colors got brighter, your hearing got more on-point—and we'd go out and visit ruins and cenotes just tripping. He wouldn't tell me what the drink was—no locals would, either—but it was a nice body high that got you very toasty for your day but was still very manageable; there were no withdrawals, and you weren't drinking them every 20 minutes.

"We drove eight or nine hours to get to Merida from Tulum, because we took the local roads, but you could take the superhighway and do it in about two hours from Tulum or three or four hours from Cancun. It's the perfect three-day weekend. I highly recommend it." —Evan Yurman
Hotel Villa Merida, Calle 59 #615A x 80 y 82, Colonia Centro, Merida, Yucatán, Mexico; rates start at $235 per suite; (888) 737-2124; thevillasgroup.com

This morning's fashion news: Supermodel Bar Refaeli has designed a tiny bikini for Hurley, on sale today at Victoria's Secret locations. Yes, this is reason enough to run a photo of Bar Refaeli in a tiny bikini.

[via WWD]