BLENDING IN.(Loren Kreiss)

Loren Kreiss, the twenty-six-year-old scion of a family-owned furnishings company that is based in San Diego, moved to Manhattan in 2005 and would be the first to admit that becoming a New Yorker has been an education. First, there was the profile in the Real Estate section of the Times, which poked fun at his carefully tousled hair and at the contrived whimsicality of his Chelsea loft, in which all the clocks are deliberately set to the wrong time. ("His three-times-a-week maid often resets the clocks correctly, forcing Mr. Kreiss to reset them quirky again," the paper noted.) Then there was the item in Gawker.com, which asked, "If you're straight, why move to Chel-sea and have such perfect eyebrows?"

"I got made fun of a bunch," Kreiss said the other day, insisting that his image as a party boy is a misrepresentation. "People are always saying, like, 'Oh, you must know Paris Hilton.What is she like?' Well, I have met Paris Hilton--our family is friendly with the Hilton family. But I am not going to knock someone who is more accomplished than I am at the moment."

Currently, Kreiss is using his measure of notoriety on behalf of the New York Foundling's Mott Haven Leadership Program, an after-school program for boys age eight and up, in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the Bronx. Last year, he provided disposable cameras to ten participants in the program, and asked them to shoot pictures that depicted their lives. Starting this week, Kreiss's selection of the best photographs will be on display at the Foundling headquarters, under the title "Hey Mister." One day last week, he headed uptown to meet with some of his young documentarians.

"At first, it was a little--I am not going to say awkward, but they were a little bit skeptical of me," he recalled, as his hired Town Car coursed along the F.D.R. Drive. "I am not sure if I blend in, especially with my hair gel and all that. But I always wear a pin with a picture of my dog, Dexter, so that warmed them up a bit." Kreiss's dog pin was fastened to the lapel of a corduroy sports jacket, which he wore over a shirt and a cashmere sweater. "The first time I came up here, I felt a little--I don't want to say foolish, but I came up in my car, which doesn't blend in so much," he said. (Usually, Kreiss drives a Jaguar.) "I don't want to hide who I am," he said. "But coming up here you realize how petty material possessions can be."

Several of Kreiss's photographers have moved on from the Foundling since last summer: one has been sent by his family to the Dominican Republic; another is moving among shelters; another has been ...