It's exactly seven days before the beginning of Fashion Week, and just inside the door of the Duckie Brown showroom on Mercer Street, a gaggle of maybe 20 young men, uniformly clad in ratty jeans and shredded tees, are sitting around, waiting for their close-ups. At first, they seem like normal, nice college boys—but examine them more closely and you'll see that each face has something incredible to recommend it: Either it's dauntingly chiseled with cut-steel cheekbones, or there are piercing aqua eyes and a wicked stubble, or a complexion creamy as milk glass. Though there's not a stray ounce of body fat to be seen, there are also no obvious examples of manorexia—the skinny guys just seem like skinny guys, not desperately ill... More >>>