Let me start by saying I didn't go to everything. (Parties I missed: Ms. Lauryn Hill's performance at Alexander Wang's store, the Purple magazine event at the Top of the Standard, the Scissor Sisters at The Box.) This is due, mostly, to not being invited to everything. And to having reached that point of life wherein I venture out to bars and clubs far less often than I used to. I'm pretty new to New York, so I won't pretend to be an insider, though my freelance writing does grant me some party invites and perspective. Which is excellent news, because I do enjoy fun. After all, I used to write exclusively about nightlife, music and style stuff. And I'm still into pop culture, human behavior and what the trend-setters are up to -- even if it's just as a fly on the wall. That's why I love my relative NYC anonymity. I can lurk in dark corners with a drink and a smile, taking it all in, or let loose without fear of retribution. Good times with no apologies. That humbly sums up my Fashion Week experience this time around.
Kicking things off with glamor and street cred last Thursday (i.e. a lifetime ago) was the first New York solo exhibit of Los Angeles-based street artist RETNA. Curated by PM Tenore, sponsored by Bombardier Business Aircraft and VistaJet and presented by Andy Valmorbida and Vladimir Restoin Roitfeld (former French Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld's son -- yes she was there), the Hallelujah World Tour featured RETNA's large scale graffiti-inspired paintings, sculptures and photographs.
Guests (2,000 of them throughout the evening) paraded down a dark hallway and into the spacious warehouse-turned-gallery at 560 Washington St. to mingle with that amazingly eclectic combo of partygoers you can only get in New York, from street artists to fashion fancypants and everything in between, like pop star Chris Brown and TV and film producer Brian Grazer (who won an Oscar for A Beautiful Mind.) As for RETNA, sporting shades and a huge grin, dude looked right in his element as the toast of the contemporary art world. (He's apparently doing a piece on a $60,000,000 Bombardier jet. Not too shabby.)
As the night wore on, the drinkers congregated at the rear of the room, where glasses of wine and tumblers of vodka were snatched from trays borne by foxy servers as soon as they emerged from the back. Vultures! I thought, lamenting civilization's decline, until I became one of them. What can I say? I was thirsty. The after party, at Indochine, supposedly ruled but I skipped it and went to bed. What can I say? I was tired.
Sunday night was all about Kenmare, as pop star Sky Ferreira and Nur Khan (who co-owns the restaurant and bar with Paul Sevigny) hosted a fun little shindig for Vs. Magazine. We came, we saw, we people watched. In attendance were the likes of Jared Leto, Casey Affleck and designer Erin Fetherston, as well as more fashion peeps and the usual creatures of the night. We laughed, we danced and had a grand old time. Good music, too.
Literally and figuratively, Tuesday's big money shindig went down at the brand new Mondrian SoHo hotel. The VMan party celebrated the launch of VMAN21 with Kanye West on the cover, his mouth stuffed with dollar bills, as shot by Karl Lagerfeld. The event's climax was the so-called "money drop" from the Garden Room ceiling, when real dollar bills, drink tickets and fake Kanye cash rained down on the happy, stylish crowd like manna from the disco heavens. Woo hoo! (Most guests donated their loot to the God's Love We Deliver non-profit by dropping their dollars into boxes carried around by models.) DJs A-Trak, Lady Bunny and Mark Hunter the Cobra Snake supplied the tunes. Many celebs, too, like Chloe Sevigny, Keri Hilson, Alexander Wang, Sean Lennon, Zoe Kravitz, Taryn Manning, Chromeo, Vera Wang, Julia Restoin Roitfeld, Stephen Gan (I'm just copying these names from the press release at this point). Even Kanye made an appearance.
Wednesday night, the Harleys and bikers hanging outside Don Hill's were apparently so intimidating that the nice driver of the car service I had taken into the city from Brooklyn (was too rushed for the subway) was extremely concerned for my well-being. Too many beards or something, who knows. I told him he was being silly, of course, and headed into what turned out to be a terrific party. A fun crowd of rockers, hipsters, and fashion types packed the joint (also owned by Paul Sevigny and Nur Khan) to celebrate Adam Kimmel's working man-inspired collection for Carhartt. DJs Nate Lowman and Leo Fitzpatrick set the tone for a live performance by punk- and metal-tinged country band Hank 3 -- which can only be described as bad ass, i.e. completely amazing. Fronted by Hank William's grandson Hank III, the talented Nashville, TN based outfit were Fashion Week antiheroes, lassoing us in with their lengthy, energetic set. Even celeb guests like Leelee Sobieski, Terry Richardson, Juergen Teller, David Blaine and Ethan Coen seemed to appreciate the party's cool and unpretentious vibe, as people hooted, hollered and smiled.
Dare I say, it was a very good week. Thanks, New York.
RETNA photo credit: Billy Farrell Agency/Neil Rasmus