We Would Give Anything to Fug Clive Owen

From left, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Hilary Swank, Demi Moore, and the Father of Our Babies. Photo: Getty Images

Turns out there's something to be said for making a late entrance. In the past, we may have called Demi Moore a drama queen for swooping into a front-row seat at the very last possible minute, but at this morning's Miss Sixty show, when she tried to take her place at a reasonable hour, the photographers swarmed like sharks after chum.

When Moore and her entourage were seated, we found out why: Yes, she looked fantastic, but she'd also swapped her man-candy husband for the company of none other than devastating British hottie Clive Owen. We still haven't fully regained the power of speech.

The hubbub around Owen and Moore (who were also joined by Hilary Swank, practically an afterthought in the wake of His Hotness) was so extreme that a dressed-down Mischa Barton was able to slink unmolested to her own front-row spot. She looked like she rolled out of bed in last night's boozing clothes and threw her hair up in an elastic before running out the door. It made for an interesting study in contrasts when she spent much of the show chatting and giggling with her casually glam seatmate Joy Bryant. In a total Anna Wintour moment, Demi donned large dark shades for the show, while two seats down Maggie Gyllenhaal whispered animatedly with a friend. Perry Farrell seemed rapt — maybe the tight clothes and short shorts reminded him of the old days when he had groupies — and Cat Deeley seemed to be enjoying her freedom now that she can stop pretending to care if people think they can dance. We also suspect, although we couldn't be entirely sure, that she was wearing a denim jumpsuit. Just in case we're right (and we're probably not — yesterday we were totally sure that we spotted Victor Garber chatting up Shirley Manson. Um, turns out not so much): Don't do that, Cat.

Once the show ended, though, it was back to business. A bare second after the lights came up, a guard signaled to the Moore Posse and it leaped up en masse and sprinted backstage in a massive blur of perfect hair. We haven't seen that kind of speed since the last time we were at an open bar. —The Fug Girls

Watch a slideshow of the Miss Sixty collection.