Entertainment

The city is my playground!

Toy mogul Alex Shlaferman is also new York's party boss.

Toy mogul Alex Shlaferman is also new York’s party boss. (Anne Wermiel/NY Post)

BOAT BASH! Shlaferman invited glow-stick-wielding partiers on a July 20 boat ride.

BOAT BASH! Shlaferman invited glow-stick-wielding partiers on a July 20 boat ride. (
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MANHATTAN BRIDGE! His biggest bash yet was on a bridge last weekend, when he was arrested.

MANHATTAN BRIDGE! His biggest bash yet was on a bridge last weekend, when he was arrested. (
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FLOATING PARTY! Partygoers were pacified by a July 20 boat ride on the Queen of Hearts, which Shlaferman rented.

FLOATING PARTY! Partygoers were pacified by a July 20 boat ride on the Queen of Hearts, which Shlaferman rented. (
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BENSONHURST BLOWOUT! Fun-seekers danced late into the night at a bash Shlaferman set up in an empty Bensonhurst field last summer.

BENSONHURST BLOWOUT! Fun-seekers danced late into the night at a bash Shlaferman set up in an empty Bensonhurst field last summer. (
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When Alexander Shlaferman was arrested early Sunday for throwing a free rager for nearly 1,000 revelers atop the Manhattan Bridge, the cops couldn’t help but tip a hat to the 19-year-old.

“They said, ‘Wow, we really wish we weren’t in uniform so we could go to this party,’ ” recalls Shlaferman with a sly smile.

Three days and three misdemeanors later (his court date is Sept. 13) — and the NYU dropout is still gloating.

And why not? After all, Shlaferman — who goes by his Facebook pseudonym, Alex Xander — is the teenage party boy of the moment.

After sundown, he’s bringing NYC’s nightlife scene to its knees with his wild and oft-illegal bashes. And by day, well, he’s running a successful toy company that he founded at the tender age of 15.

Shlaferman, all 6 feet 2 inches of him, is perched at his desk at the Vante Toys office in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn. His eyes are so blue and his side-sweep so high, he could easily pass for a fourth Jonas brother. He’s wearing a gray Diesel cardigan his mother bought him in Switzerland, “Cool Grey” Air Jordans and skinny gray jeans.

“The event is a statement I wanted to make, and people finally listened,” Shlaferman says of his Manhattan Bridge rave.

Over the past two years, the Bensonhurst native has thrown epic, always-free parties (except one, for which he regrets charging) at locations across the city — from abandoned warehouses to the air hangar at Floyd Bennett Field. Bouncy castles, pools of beer and the rush of trespassing have all become staples of “Xandernation.”

The Xandernation logo — an illustration of a faceless Shlaferman, with only a pair of aviators and his trademark ’do — is supposed to be a sort of presidential portrait.

“President Xander. The hair is the signature,” Shlaferman admits, adding that all his mane requires is “just some careful blowdrying and, I don’t know, some wax from CVS.”

He promotes the bashes on Facebook, typically providing the location to approved fun-seekers once they are vetted (gang members are a no-no, says Shlaferman). Instructions are detailed: “Enter discreetly like a ninja. You are going somewhere secret,” read one party missive.

“I really want to inspire people to realize that they’re just human beings like everyone else,” he says. “They should do things like this. It’s cool that I do it. But do it, too. Give back.”

Shlaferman is incredibly cocky and earnest — a combination that can only be chalked up to adolescence. (He’s also clearly basking in the recent press — a huge stack of New York Posts detailing this weekend’s Manhattan Bridge escapade sits in his office.)

“I have a really good connection with people,” he continues. “I know what people want, when it comes to products or parties.”

Behind the teen hangs a huge “Vincent van NO” poster of hipster-meme “Grumpy Cat” given van Gogh’s “Starry Night” treatment. Surrounding him are Vante Toys products, including a Babounca Ball and a Super Looper, a boomerang airplane that was a Bed Bath & Beyond top seller last year, according to Shlaferman. Donald Trump liked his gifted Super Looper so much, the teen says, that the tycoon played with it for three hours straight.

While Shlaferman boasts all the trappings of a mini-mogul — including a gray Maserati GranTourismo with black rims that he bought for cash early this year (“It was kind of a Christmas present to myself”) — he firmly maintains his distaste for the flashier things in life.

“I hate associating myself with money. Honestly, believe it or not. I hate money . . . we live in a world where, ‘Oh, he has money, let me do something bad to him.’ To me, it’s not important.”

Which is why he throws parties.

“It’s part of why I enjoy helping people, because it alleviates my stress of having money,” says Shlaferman, who adds that he plans to sell the Maserati.

Another alleviating factor: The toy honcho still lives at home with his parents.

“It’s only by choice,” he clarifies. “I’m 19 years old. I’m not ready to leave my mom yet. I’m still a mama’s boy. I love my mom a lot.” (He also loves Selin Kurun, his 22-year-old girlfriend of six months: “She was working in a store right across the street from my office and she was so pretty that I had to come and say hi,” he recalls. Kurun now works part-time for Shlaferman.)

His parents only found out about their son’s arrest after their friends read about the scandal in The Post and called them.

“Like a mother of any son, she was extremely upset that I got arrested,” says Shlaferman, who was held in a cell for four hours alongside his two DJs.

Shlaferman’s parents — who were born in Russia and came to Brooklyn in 1992 as refugees (his mother runs a medical office, his father programs computers) — are more supportive of their son’s business endeavors. (They also have a daughter who’s a lawyer in Ohio.)

He made his first $10,000 at the age of 11 when he sold a DVD online of himself teaching an admittedly “really, really sh - -ty” levitation trick.

“I sold 100 copies of it at $100 [each] in one week,” says Shlaferman. “I guess I’m just naturally really good at marketing. Because I marketed the hell out of it and made it into something that everyone wanted and it just blew up.”

When he was 15, he teamed up with a family friend 10 years older to travel around America for the summer, hawking toys, kitchen gadgets and “anything we could get our hands on” at state fairs.

“I had days when I would make $8,000 a day in cash,” he says.

Shlaferman saved up $30,000 and launched Vante Toys in 2009. The company, which has 10 full-time employees, reels in $600,000 in annual revenue, according to Dun & Bradstreet, which provides global business reports. He also says he owns a 15,000-square-foot factory in China staffed by nearly 100 workers.

Once the teen started making money, he wanted to give back. To Shlaferman, that meant spending anywhere from $1,500 to $25,000 throwing parties for his pals.

His first foray into the world of underground parties was the Fourth of July rager he hosted in 2012 in an abandoned field in Bensonhurst.

“I would have possibly spent that money on something stupid; instead I did it for all these people and I saw a couple hundred smiling faces. I got some street cred and people called me ‘the man.’ It was cool.”

Sometimes, the parties would get broken up by cops. But Shlaferman says he wasn’t scared about taking over a New York City bridge for his own fun.

“You have to have a little bit of balls to do something like that,” he says matter-of-factly.

Shlaferman just spent “something like 10 days” planning the bash.

“There wasn’t really any effort put into it at all,” he insists.

The DJs wheeled their equipment down the walkway. The bridge was lit up. And Shlaferman brought a 12-foot banner.

“Initially, at 9 o’clock, there were maybe 30 people . . . and people were starting to get antsy. I’m like, ‘Guys, just chill out. Don’t worry. Everything will come together perfectly.’ 

“Sure enough, I went to the store, we got some snacks and stuff and came back and I could barely walk through,” Shlaferman says.

“As soon as people saw me, the crowd just went nuts. I just stood on the speaker. I couldn’t even say anything. And everyone’s chanting, ‘Xander! Xander!’ I felt like a king.”

Party royalty or not, the raves are only the start, says Shlaferman, who adds that since last weekend’s bash, he’s received calls from producers looking to turn his life into a reality TV show.

“People come out to see me. They’re not interested in the parties, they’re interested in me,” he says. “I’m doing things other people wouldn’t do. I’m the one taking all the risks. But I’m fine with that.

“Like the Spider-Man quote: ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ I don’t know why, but I guess people trust me that everything will be fine.”

dschuster@nypost.com