Dressed to the Kilt
At Capitale for Dressed To Kilt.
| Last night in New York. This
is Passover week and also Spring break for the private and the public
schools, so many New
Yorkers are away.
The city is somewhat quieter, although there are always places to go
where “quieter” is not operative.
I started out the evening at Georgette Mosbacher’s baronial apartment
overlooking the Met. She was having a cocktail reception in honor of
the publication of Christopher Buckley’s new novel “Boomsday.”
The Mosbacher parties are always very glamorous in that they are exactly
what you’d expect to see in a movie of a glamorous cocktail party
in New York. Publishing people, film and media people, business people,
social people. Waiters in black tie at the ready bearing silver trays
with flutes of champagne or sparkling water; and lots and lots of talking.
Many of these people know each other, or know of each other, or have
worked together, dined together, whatever together. New York becomes
a hipped-up small town for a moment. Except high above the metropolis
in the realm of the worldly and the wealthy.
| Chris Buckley signing
Mr. Buckley is a very popular fellow (as are his parents Pat
His lady friend is Jolie Hunt, a very pretty, as you can see, and dynamic
young woman who is a director of public relations at IBM. Before that
she was at the FT. Public relations executives at that level are facilitators.
They are often shrewdly bright, often charming, and have a talent, a
facility, for connecting – themselves and others. Ms. Hunt is all
of that and more. They very often move New York along.
The party was through its first of two hours when I arrived. I tend to
move around quickly at these receptions, looking to get photos to record
The Presence, and having the chance to say hello. This is probably true
for most people. But Georgette Mosbacher’s parties have a kind
of effervescence about them (maybe it’s partly the champagne) and
I felt like staying and chatting with people.
The author was pretty much besieged, signing copies for friends. The
hostess moved about the crowd, looking as if she’d just left the
serenity of yoga, wearing a dark chocolate silk tunic that offset her
flaming tresses (well, how else could they be described accurately?)
and her big bright eyes. And barefooted.
Buckley and Jolie Hunt
Collins and Georgette Mosbacher
|Joan Collins and Percy Gibson came in,
having just arrived from Cleveland (where Joan was appearing in the play
she’s touring in with Linda Evans). Joan’s
writing her own play about touring the provinces (I know, they’re
not really provinces) in a show with another star. Which is what the
play she’s touring in is about. A play within a play. Or without
a play. I’m making this up, but you never know. Next they go to
Fort Worth where the show must go on and where they’ll be wined
and dined by Joanie Schnitzer Levy who is one of Texas’ ambassadors-at-large.
The party was supposed to be over at 7:30 but at quarter to eight, there were
dozens still clustered in conversations in several rooms. Mrs. Mosbacher’s
staff very subtly but officiously began removing the accoutrements of hospitality
and soon we were getting the picture. Almost seamlessly they cleared the rooms,
then the gallery, and then the apartment. Of us hold-outs. That’s what
a good New York cocktail party is like.
|I walked down the avenue to 79th Street and
caught a cab to take me down the FDR Drive to the Bowery
and Capitale where I was to be one of the “judges” in
the annual Dressed to Kilt runway show.
Dressed to Kilt is, as far as a I know, the brainchild of a very congenial Scotsman
named Geoffrey Carroll. It is an annual event staged by “Friends of Scotland” which
is the primary US organization promoting a contemporary view of modern Scotland.
The objcctive is to showcase Scottish cultural, educational, historical and genealogical
connections between the United States and Scotland.
All of which is good for business. All kinds of business, from Johnnie Walker
Scotch (which sponsored last night’s party) to Victoria’s Secret
(who sponsored part of last night) to the textile and tourist business, not to
mention international relations. The night itself is meant for fun, and fun it
is. Big time and glitzy, but again, kind of small town in its homey-ness. Good
clean fun, actually, which is becoming more and more of a rarity.
They’ve been staging this for several years. Longtime readers of NSYD have
seen pictures from previous events. It’s mainly a big fashion show which
is also a party, with all kinds of men and women participating, and full of jest
and full of fun. Last night at Capitale must have been their biggest party thus
far, as there were hundreds in the crowd.
and Eric Villency
Morris and Geoffrey Carroll
|Capitale is a magnificent old bank building which was
converted several years ago into a very grand event space. The Bowery
where it’s located was for
decades known for it’s “bums.” That’s over. Now it’s
part of the whole downtown renaissance, gentrified into hip and luxurious (although
much of it might not look that way from the outside).
I arrived just as people were lining up outside to get in. As a judge I was taken
upstairs to the rooms where all the models were putting on their costumes and
the women were having their hair and makeup done. It was a real backstage scene
and I was snapping away at what I saw, although most of those images will have
to wait until tomorrow, like the rest of the story. The Donald, the
only tycoon in the world who is also a television star, was there, as you can
see, also as
a judge, while his beautiful daughter Ivanka modeled. Michael
Strahan of the
Giants was kilted out, as was Stone Phillips, and Eric
Villency and his beautiful
new wife Kimberly Guilfoyle, and Tinsley Mortimer taking
the runway with Euan
Rellie. But all that’s for tomorrow’s Diary.
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