Fashion Week Frenzy

My Blackberry was screaming at me to get to subMercer, as “everyone was there.” The reopening of the underground spot I call home had me covered in goose bumps. They could have been caused by the cool, cool night, but I love goose bumps no matter what the cause. I was dying to get to subMercer, but it was quite early and I was dining in Brooklyn. Manhattan Inn in Greenpoint is yet another reason there’s no way you’re gonna keep me in Manhattan. Fashion Week events were beckoning me from across the East River, but I was in a better place. I think someone should organize a Brooklyn Fashion Week.

We scurried into Manhattan to catch the BB Dakota Fashion Week Kick Off Party. Despite the very pleasant people at the event door and inside the still-chic Chloe 81, we were in and out faster than you can say Chloe 81-2-3-4. We’d arrived there a little too deep into the open bar, and even the fabulous people we knew didn’t know us anymore. It was like going to a masquerade party without a costume. I must admit that everyone was having a blast. We hit the streets hard and headed to see Gabby and Richard at subMercer. We passed by Travertine. The basement boite, XIX, is on my list of things to visit. We paused outside the joint, where a fabulous herd of foreign correspondents, debutantes, hipsters, and bally-hoos amused us on the sidewalk as we chatted up the door peeps. Door guru “Disco” (ex-Bungalow 8 and many other sweet spots) was supervising the scene. My beautiful friend Alexis Clemente was there as well. They insist the place is hot and I believe them, as Disco has never lied to me. I clicked my ruby sneakers together and repeated “there’s no place like home” and headed to my home away from home, subMercer.

A huge throng was smoking and cruising outside The Mercer Hotel. As we neared I asked Amanda if she hated Fashion Week yet.”Is it like this everywhere?” she queried, and I told her, “It only gets worse as the week goes on.” Every joint worth its lemon zest is doing something incredible every night. Soon, the fashion flock, victims, and the peeps who actually work will be hit with tremendous exhaustion. But they’ll still need to be out. A feeding frenzy will make the classy turn crass. The innocent and sweet will morph into sleep-deprived cocktail and stimulant monsters. The beautiful will get ugly.

Courtney Love was holding court on one of the benches as we approached. She was surrounded by the most fabulous peeps, and, as often is the case with subMercer, hanging outside is a big part of the party. Door god Richard Alvarez and I caught up. We exchanged a battery of “You look greats” and “Whatchabeendoings?” while he and Amanda spoke in a strange Spanish dialect that apparently needed hands, hips, and lots of prancing around to understand. They both broke down laughing at the end, and I still have no idea what was said. We were whisked down to Gabby Meija, the queen of the joint. It was mobbed with balloons and wonderful folk who don’t need Fashion Week to tell them what to wear. Gabby showed me the newly appointed DJ booth, where I’ve bored so many. It has Plexiglas up to the ceiling to prevent drinks from ruining the night. She told me it would stop a tossed tomato on nights when I spin. Andre Balazs was there but gone by the time we arrived. I’ll see him tonight at the Boom Boom Room (or whatever they call it) re-launch.

We were off to Kenmare. A huge crowd of hipsters was smoking up the street, which made me think to myself, great…not inside. It was refreshing to think that this wouldn’t be a deal breaker here. Megan greeted us in and we were instantly among friends. Everybody was hanging on everybody as Kenmare remains the sexiest place around where clothes are still required. I couldn’t find Nur , who was over here but then over there and back that way as everyone insisted they just saw him. I’ll see him tonight at Don Hill’s. I can’t wait to see what he and Paul Sevigny have done to the place. A sneak peek I had just a little while back indicated they were keeping all the good stuff but adding much needed seating, bathrooms, as well as cleaning up the place. I hope it’s not too clean. The great Andy Warhol once said, “Anyplace that’s too neat or too clean can’t be any fun.” Don Hill’s was always kind of perfectly grungy. I will then make my way, way up to Good Units at the Hudson Hotel. Tonight Susanne Bartsch and Desi Monster will kick off their monthly soiree, Bloody Mary. Every queen this side of Elizabeth II will be in attendance.

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