You Get Into Events With A Little Help From Your Friends
In New York, as in The Beatles’ song, you get by with a little help from your friends. So, when you find yourself not invited to any fun events, you reach out to those around you and do everything short of begging to be their plus one.
When on Sunday at the DKNY fragrance launch my publicist/friend Meghan invited me to the GenArt party that Tuesday night, I jumped at the opportunity. The GenArt film festival had already been in full swing since last week and I had yet to attend an event. It seemed fitting the party was hosted at BLVD on the Bowery as this year’s main sponsor was a car company.
Exiting the cab, I had high hopes when I saw paparazzi circling outside like hungry vultures—furtively glancing over in a vain hope one might take my picture. When that inevitably did not occur, I at least expected a celebrity-packed room inside. While there were a few bold-face names including Moby, Jennifer Love-Hewitt and that minx of a teacher from Gossip Girl who seduces Dan Humphrey, they were hidden away as GenArt separated the famous from the ticket-buying fans.
Even though I wasn’t one of the people forking over cash to go and gawk at B-list celebrities, I still couldn’t help but feel a little unfabulous after the event. So attending a party for “Beautiful People” was exactly what I needed to get my spirits and ego back where they belong: in a deluded fairytale world of red carpets and photographers.
You know a party’s exclusive when an editor can’t get into his own magazine’s event. On Thursday night, the stretch of sidewalk around Ninth Avenue and W 16th street was packed shoulder to shoulder with hipsters and downtown nightlife fixtures all vying to get inside Hiro ballroom for Paper Magazine’s “Beautiful People” party, celebrating the latest issue.
Word on the street was the event had received over 4,000 RSVPs and so the door was tighter than Joan River’s face. Thanks to my photo in the last issue and blatant disregard for the two-block-long line, I was lucky enough to make it inside, briefly making an appearance on the step and repeat before heading downstairs to partake in the revelry and company of the evening’s beautiful people.
Guests who made it in before the fire marshals put Hiro in lockdown included Kat DeLuna, Erin Fetherston, The Blonds, and Richie Rich while among those stuck outside were recording artist Estelle, Lydia Hearst, Paper Editor-at-Large Peter Davis and countless others.
While hundreds were left simultaneously fuming and freezing outside, inside DJ Cassidy—who also appeared in the issue—warmed up the party with a set of mostly 80’s dance hits. By 9:30, everyone seemed to be feverishly awaiting cover girl Katy Perry’s performance. Camera flashes exploded as Katy came on stage in a shimmery sequin mini-dress and launched into Hot N’ Cold. She rounded out her four-song set with a spirited rendition of “I Kissed A Girl,” all the while wielding a giant inflatable tube of chapstick.
After a night like that, I would have normally cashed out and ended the week on a high note, but when I heard from a much cooler friend there was a secret “Free Beatrice” party being held to rally support for the recently shuttered haughty hipster haven, I knew I couldn’t miss it—if only for indulging my ego by getting into yet another ultra-exclusive fête.
It was with some nervous excitement that on Friday night I made my way to the chic and newly opened Cooper Square Hotel where an elevator took us up to a giant penthouse with soaring city views on all sides. The picturesque location was probably the furthest thing from the darkened and dungeon-like basement of Beatrice, but the skinny hipsters were very much the same. There was smoking, Mary-Kate Olson and guys relieving themselves off the balcony and in the showers—all proving that you can the hipsters out of The Beatrice, but you can’t take The Beatrice out of the Hipsters.