Chace Crawford and J.C. Chasez hung out with girls and drank Cristal at a Vegas party thrown by Michael Strahan. A bunch of Upper East Side housewives at the premiere of The Real Housewives of New York City hated on the show. Because they were jealous. Among the stipulations in Kimora Lee Simmons's contract rider is that her glass of Champagne must be filled whenever it gets below one inch. Employees at Philippe may have been watching celebs like Tom Brady and Gisele hook up in the restaurant's private room via security camera. A party in honor of Baird Jones (open bar, naturally) will be held at Plumm this Friday, with a memorial service to be held at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine Saturday afternoon.
Veronica Hearst is using her Fifth Avenue apartment and a property in upstate New York as collateral in case the auction for her 52-room mansion in Palm Beach doesn't hit $40 million. Meanwhile, her step-granddaughter Lydia Hearst just bought a $1.49 million apartment in the Sheffield 57 on West 57th. Damon Dash got freaked out by the lunar eclipse. CNBC's Money Honey, Maria Bartiromo, has joined the board at her alma mater, NYU. Cindy Adams thinks Ellen Page is, uh, "a young, white, female Obama."
Because it took us 45 minutes to get to Lincoln Center in rush-hour traffic, we might have been a little late for Tommy Hilfiger. And because we might have been a little late for Tommy Hilfiger, we might have missed the chance to sit in our actual assigned seats. This may be how we ended up loitering in a glass-enclosed balcony, fighting for a spot past the folks in standing room who'd gotten there at a reasonable hour. And that's how we found ourselves at our lowest Fashion Week point, both emotionally and physically: kneeling on the carpet, peering through people's legs down at the front row below.
It's a bad sign that the first thing we wondered while trying to make our way into the Rock & Republic show tonight was, "Is this the new Heatherette?" The answer is not quite, if only because the show didn't feature the campy deliciousness of assless pants.
Even though we're only two days in, it just seems wrong somehow that we've seen more of socialites and Sophia Bush than we have of Anna Wintour. Sure, we know that soon enough the Bob will be sitting in stony silence about six rows ahead of us, but it's hard not to get impatient for that first glimpse of the coif that Suri Cruise is currently getting unfair credit for inventing.
Leven Rambin, the 17-year-old soap star, has landed a role in the new Lipstick Jungle series. She plays an actress, so it couldn’t have been much of a stretch. At the Saks party celebrating the new show, she said she prepared for her role by studying all her gay best friends. “They were like, 'This girl’s over the top! She’s dramatic, she’s mood-swingy, she’s bitchy, she’s out of control!' And I was like, 'Hmmm who do I know?'” So, who does she know? “I have one person in mind, but I don’t want to say his name. I already told him he was my inspiration, and he’s very, like, proud of that,” she said. At this point, Rambin left us, dashed across the red carpet and wrapped Über-dandy Patrick McDonald in a hug, and exclaimed, “Patrick! You better work!” Aha! Did she base her character on McDonald? “No, no no! This one is, like, she’s flamboyant," said Rambin. "She’s like, all over the place.” Wait, "she"? Leven, we wondered, are you a fag hag? “I would say so. He says I’m the youngest one he knows.” —Bennett Marcus
At Gwen Stefani's L.A.M.B. show, both of our fondest wishes came true: The clothes were totally fun, and little Kingston — all blinged out in what appeared to be bedazzled jeans, like the biggest badass in the sandbox — made an appearance, bouncing on dad — Gavin Rossdale's lap in the front row.
In addition to playing the autistic teenager Lily Montgomery on All My Children, Leven Rambin, the face of Caressa jewelry, has been a party fixture ever since she moved from her mom’s house in Connecticut to a place on the Upper West Side. When making the scene, she skips the hors d’oeurve. “After working from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m.,” says the 17-year-old, “the last thing I want to do is go to the gym. So I try to eat light.” That is, except for those addictions to peanut butter and protein bars — and the occasional serotonin-boosting chocolate splurge.
Today's BCBG show was our very first fashion event, and we feel brainwashed by the pomp and circumstance. So much so that we each seriously considered accepting a free pair of tragically trendy bright-red leggings on our way out.