How exclusive was French Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld's Saturday-night party for the young swans of fashion, Julia Restoin-Roitfeld, Bee Shaffer, and Margherita Missoni? Too exclusive for us. But the scene outside the velvet ropes at the Gramercy Park Hotel might have been as entertaining as the one inside.
Not everyone feels glamorous at Fashion Week. Here are a few scenes from the weekend's parties. Chris Noth and Whoopi Goldberg, attending the Rainforest Action Network party at the Plumm, freely admitted their fashion don'ts.
For those of us who communicate via hand gestures and scrunched faces, Fashion Week is a real exercise in restraint. Thank God for actress Tracee Ellis Ross, whose enthusiasm broke the mold at this morning's Brian Reyes show.
If there's one thing we've learned in our two days of roaming Bryant Park, it's that there is no such thing as "Hurry up, the show starts in 30 seconds."
Our evening began with a 6 p.m. Karen Walker show, her first-ever U.S. presentation. Now, when neither of you is a local and one of you was born without a sense of direction, it's best if the other is not terribly trusting. Sadly, that's not the case.
Your panties may be pretty, but next season they're going undercover. Designers are hiking waistlines practically up to the neck. Rachel Roy offered belted ivory silk skirts while Verrier's ruffled number stopped just short of the ribs. United Bamboo's sailor-buttoned black skirt aims high but has a loose fit, so you can breathe even though you're covered up.
Barneys hosted the Balenciaga Paris book party on Friday night with stars (Courtney Cox, the Olsen twins), designers (Anait Bian, Nicolas Ghesquière), and three different kinds of caviar. New York's Jada Yuan chatted with Iman.
So far, our sojourn here at Fashion Week has been fun and fascinating and, surprisingly, pretty organized. But no more. The Baby Phat show was a total mob scene literally: A fight broke out in the front rows while we were waiting for the show to start.
Admittedly, after standing in line in the lobby for what felt like about ten years (fine, it was probably more like 45 minutes), we felt a little violent, too. Especially when we realized we were going to be suffering the slings and arrows of Standing Room Only Seating.
It was a harried day for 50 Cent. He spent the afternoon in the Midtown South precinct house after being pulled over for a traffic violation. He got out in time for the Baby Phat show, only to wait around an hour for it to actually begin. And then he got in a fight with another show-goer.