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“I was still an architecture student learning the correct orders and order of things when I would come down to New York late at night and walk the streets of Midtown, broad and deserted at night, until I came to the small crowd gathered around the door of Studio 54. A doorman, often clad in an oversized parka, stood on a raised stoop, singling out those who were, for some reason of fashion or urban mix, worthy. Continue reading
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