Every building supports a certain kind of life, and sometimes that life is larger than the building itself.  The new Nicola Formichetti pop-up by Gage/Clemenceau Architects, constructed under the auspices of BOFFO for Fashion Week, is like that, crushing the boundary between theater and architecture.  A typical storefront space on a quiet TriBeCa sidestreet, it’s lined inside with faceted mirror acrylic panels.  Stepping inside is like stepping into another universe with its own peculiar logic of vision and light.  The ceiling armature, which is symmetrically and elegantly conceived, like the body of a racing car, returns reflections in complex ways that confound perspective.

The giddy, gaudy effect is that of an exclusive, underground discotheque.  There are, on display, costumes Formichetti devised for Lady Gaga and mannequins he styled for Uniqlo.  And there is, for sale, jewelry and clothing he’s curated, including a rack of vintage 1990’s Versace printed silk shirts.  There’s also a live DJ, monitors showing Formichetti-styled runway shows and music videos, and, acting as doorman, Rico “Zombie Boy."  When I visited, on a sunny Monday afternoon, there were groups of splendidly attired Gaga fans and fashionistas inside, just standing around being fabulous.  It’s a very high level of theater, made possible by a very high level of architecture.

I saw U2 twice, once in high school when they were touring for “The Unforgettable Fire,” and then again a few years ago at Madison Square Garden, when they were touring for “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb."  In between I did not pay attention.  Then last weekend, while out with high school friends at an Irish bar, I spotted a U2 poster on the wall and it sent me back, reeling, wanting to fill in the missing years.

Between "Fire” and “Bomb” U2 were practicing astounding stagecraft.  Looking at clips from the 1997 “Pop Mart” tour, I barely recognize the band or the boys.  They arrived on stage in a lemon-shaped disco ball and performed beneath a giant LED curtain, framed by a single Golden Arch.  And they wore costumes designed for them by the most fevered and irreverent of the Antwerp Six, Walter Van Beirendonck.  It’s a bit like the avant-garde schtick Lady Gaga is doing now.  The CD they were touring for, “Pop,” isn’t great, but the costumes are undeniably super-great.  Edge is dressed as a space cowboy, Bono as a prizefighter, a cartoon superhero, and the Unabomber, and Larry, who seems less enthusiastic about the whole business, in embellished black tees.  But it’s Adam whom the outre costumes serve best.  He’s dressed in flashified work uniforms: a dotted orange Hazmat jumper, camouflage suits, hard hats, and face masks.  I can’t believe I missed the spectacle of it all.

Walking down the most rarified stretch of Madison Avenue last night, between 79th and 68th Streets, I caught sight of these shoes on a small, spinning platform in the window at Christian Louboutin and stopped in my tracks.  Amid storefronts peddling paintings, antique furniture, designer gowns, jewelry, and other massively expensive stuff, this pair had a hot, supernatural glow.

The Lady Peeps, as they’re called, might have been concocted, Frankenstein-like, from all the different things that makes a woman’s shoe sexy: swaggering height, a pointed heel,  figure-emulating curves, dazzling surfaces, and, most of all, a hooker-red sole, which Louboutin is trying, unsuccessfully, to patent.  I know at least one girl (well, actually, a boy) who spray paints the bottoms of bargain-store heels to get the effect.  Would anyone wear these shoes, except on a red carpet, or except Lady Gaga?  If, for a woman at least, each shoe is a balance of function and desire, than Lady Peeps approach pure desire.