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A Final Note Regarding Last Night's Racked Awards

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Racked is no longer publishing. Thank you to everyone who read our work over the years. The archives will remain available here; for new stories, head over to, where our staff is covering consumer culture for The Goods by Vox. You can also see what we’re up to by signing up here.

You know Frank—he's been writing about menswear, sales, television, new shops, the recession, Lisa Loeb, the Golden Girls and getting blasted for Racked for over two years. Well, we think it's time you got to know him and his quirky-irreverent views on life and fashion even better with his column: Love, Frank. Taking the form of an open letter and always signed with love, Frank will rant about whatever style-related conundrum he encounters in a given week. So buckle your two-toned leather Moschino belts, folks, it's going to be ? Something.

Dear Racked Awards,

Last night was pretty fun, huh?

Taking over Westway—a former lower west side strip club turned hipster dance den that manages to retain a little old New York seediness without being totally grim or terrifying—we of Racked (all four sites!) present and past celebrated the winners of, you, our second annual Racked Awards.

And we celebrated hard.

Winners—a cavalcade of on-line and brick and mortar retailers, style memes, adorable shop pets and web personae as chosen by readers (and also us)—were awarded the official Racked Awards Golden Turban (not to mention the turquoise mannequin head each turban gingerly rested upon). Said glittering lamé turbans and aqua-heads were pretty spectacularly displayed upon an undulating crepe paper fixture in the middle of the dance floor.

A highlight: Watching winners in attendance pose with (and/or in!) their fabulous turbans. The ladies of shoe store Melissa (best new shoe store, New York) were especially charmed—and charming.

But back to atmosphere: Over those many heads—Westway's deejay booth cum stripper stage where twin go-go girls in Racked T-shirts and lamé superhero capes danced idly to Daft Punk.

In the club's other room, this crazy photobooth thing was set up, allowing winners and revelers the opportunity to pose for extended periods before receiving a custom flipbook featuring their on-stage shenanigans. Meanwhile, said shenanigans were projected on a big screen. Basically, it was awesome.

As were the vodka cocktails and margaritas (butlered about by cape-clad waiters!) we all needed just one or two more of to wash down the risotto balls, spinach soup shots and huge blobs of flavored cotton candy. Yes, cotton candy. I dropped mine.

In closing—last night was all kinds of good times. Congratulations to all our winners (even those who could not make it: Kate Upton's boobs, a pug, and the Marc Jacobs graffiti incident (which—incidentally beat out roving vibrator carts for best publicity stunt) among them). Wear those turbans with pride! Along with, probably, a jewel-toned silk jumpsuit and a nude heel. Halston moment!

· Love, Frank [Racked]