Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Debbie's Guest Diary: End of Summer

Moving daughter in.
by Debbie Bancroft
Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Labor Day — so aptly named.
The tender labor of packing away this summer's memories — the laborious haul of kids to schools, and too many caftans back into city closets, with the real labor ahead of us, as vacations end and real life and jobs slap us back in to reality.

Somehow, the natural order of August eases the adjustment. Kids, especially students at southern colleges, start to fade mid-August. Our fashion friends go back to tend to their upcoming shows, and those long shadows remind us it's time to dust off the sand and trot back to the asphalt.

I was mostly an island girl this summer — Long Island, I mean — with one little sojourn to the south of France. I think contrast brings appreciation. I loved the hip sophistication of St. Tropez's Le Club 55, but missed the unpretentious, kid-centric beach at home. The food was undeniably more sublime over there, but darned if I didn't miss La Parmigiana's fresh mozzarella, Southsides with fresh mint, and the best, pearly kernels of corn in any country.

The sun was relentless — good news for those toasty girls we know, just more hats and sunscreen for the rest of us-nothing to complain about.

It seemed like this was a summer where many of us found ourselves saying, 'Where have you been all summer?' and many people answering — 'traveling', 'looking at schools,' and the thing that supports both of those — 'working.' Or just staying at home with family and a few friends.

Though Pippa, Gwyneth and Madge were said to be local, they must've been barbequing too, as there were almost nary a sighting. I don't blame them. My favorite nights were the quiet ones, and the ones I can't tell you about. I can tell you that they all seemed a little smaller, more carefully edited, more sincere.

Unless one had a charity, a book or a dress to promote, parties were, by request, private. And while that makes for a less interesting column, it often makes for a more relaxed evening.

There are of course, plenty of very public events to discuss. There were battles of the ballgowns, though none of the events were black tie. There were sharp elbows, perched on designer clad hips, in that famously unsuccessful pose, meant to be slimming.

There were whines of not being invited, hostessing competing for those six summer Saturdays, and changed place cards. Just like home.

All the more reason to barbeque.

But the big three were all pretty lovely, after Bill Cunningham left, and the tension died down.

The Parrish Art Museum celebrated its last year on Jobs Lane in Southampton, before its much anticipated November move to its exciting new Herzog de Meuron designed home in Watermill ("the Switzerland of the Hamptons," as Director Terrie Sultan calls it).

Southampton Hospital manages to give 1,200 people a well organized, delicious, and fun time, and simultaneously support that crucial John and Jenny Paulson Emergency Room, while they're at it.

And Bob Wilson's Watermill Center Benefit is always the most interesting event of the summer and it reigned while it rained — cats and dogs.
Parrish Art Museum's Midsummer Party.
Paola Bacchini Rosenshein, Suzanne Murphy, Nancy Silberkleit, Lucia Hwong Gordon, Jean Shafiroff, Joy Marks, Sara Herbert-Galloway, and Cheri Kaufman at Southampton Hospital's Summer Benefit.
THE BIG BANG: 19th Annual Watermill Center Summer Benefit.
The candidates came to town — well Romney and Biden, anyway, and black sedans surrounded by troopers, sailed up and down Gin Lane, then off to Further(Lane).

In the last few days, the fund raisers, the stylists, the private chefs, drivers, manny's, publicists, and yes, the reporters heads west. We, our simple 3, went north to Newport to drop our daughter off at school. Even she said, 'Mo-om' (2 syllables mean she's really ticked), 'No pictures!' so we drove away from her Hogwarts, me clicking people-less pics, and back to town, where Fashion Week is about to unleash more popping cameras and posers (though thankfully, these are the pros) than our little summer sojourn ever coughed up. I'm getting ready.
Yes, Hogwarts.
Running from mummy's camera.
Beauty view. Not so much, walker.
Going ...
Going ...
So gone ...