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Looking
north on Fifth Avenue
and 56th Street. 2:15 PM. Photo: JH.
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Fashion Week rushes
on and so did the rain, remnants of Hurricane Francis.
Tory Burch, the New York and Philadelphia socialite who has her
own very successful clothing line (Tory for TRB) and her own shop
in NoLita (north of Little Italy), had a cocktail reception for
the premiere of her own boutique at Bergdorf’s. “A
comprehensive lifestyle collection that evokes a classic feeling
of the past combined with a discerning, modern sensibility that
includes a focus on sportswear and accessories,” according
to the press release – so you get the picture if you don’t
already know.
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Tory
Burch
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Between a business
lunch, Michael Vollbracht’s Bill Blass
show, getting the Friday Diary out so that I could hit a few parties
before dinner ... I missed it. But Tory has lots of friends
among the social set and the boldfaced names and many, I am told,
were on hand to lend support and pick up a few new items too, such
as Kelly Bensimon, Muffie Potter Aston, Susan Burch, CeCe Cord,
Annie Churchill, Gillian Hearst, Mary McFadden, Richard and Marcia
Mishaan, Pamela Gross, Alexandra Lind Rose and Ann
Caruso.
Right across the street (57th and Fifth) Tiffany was
holding a “Make
A Noise For the New York Public Library” Party inaugurating
a fund-raising campaign while, among other things, showing us the
newly completed store renovations – including a sweeping
staircase between the 3rd and 4th floors – and a host of
table setting by authors Candace Bushnell, Pamela Clarke
Keogh, Penny Proddow, Marion Fasel and the fabulous Gloria
Vanderbilt,
who was there with her now famous son, CNN’s Anderson
Cooper.
That afternoon Roger Webster, a public relations man who works
with Couri Hay had called to ask if I’d go down to the Leica
Gallery on Broadway and Bond where Brendan Fraser was having an
exhibition (his first) of photographs. First of all, Roger never
steers you wrong, and second of all Brendan Fraser is a movie star.
So I said I’d stop by.
Roger called me back a few minutes later to tell me that Brendan
Fraser was expecting me. Well, that’s impressive, no? So
about 7:15, the next day’s Diary filed, I hopped in a cab
and eighteen minutes and twenty bucks later I was at the Leica
Gallery at 670 Broadway. I didn’t have a lot of time because
I wanted to get uptown to Christie’s where they were having
a party for Amy Fine Collins and her new book, The God of
Driving.
So, the pictures tell the rest of the Brendan Fraser at the Leica
Gallery Story: |
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| 1. I walked into the Leica Gallery, no sign of the star
except ... |
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| 3. Turning
the corner I see him surrounded by an admiring crowd.
He’s kind of scruffy looking (I’m thinking
of that Firesign Theatre line: “lives of poor
people as told rich Hollywood stars…”),
hair askew, couple of days’ beard, looks like
he just rolled out of bed or off the plane (or maybe
both). |
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4. I
figured I’d get a shot of him talking to the people – that
way we’ve got some material (it’s all about the
publicity). So there he is articulating something, searching
for the right word. Interestingly, the camera covers for
a lot of the aforementioned; it likes him ... a lot. You
can see just observing the man and his body language that
he’s a very nice guy, apparently attitude-less a rarity
among that breed of cat. |
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5. & 6.
I decide rather than wait in line to have a word that I’d
first take a look at some of his work. |
| 7. Ahh, he likes dogs, another good sign. I wondered if one
(or maybe
all) were his. 8. Wrapping up a conversation
with someone, he’s checking out the guy’s business
card. As soon as the guy left, I introduced myself. He thanked
me effusively for coming by. He’s about my height (6’4”),
and a big guy. He looks you right in the eye. I told him
I wanted to get a picture of him taking a picture. “Oh,
let me take a picture of you,” he said. “Nah,” I
said – “I really don’t like having my picture
taken” (believe or not; I always feel self-conscious
and always can see it in the result). “But you’re
so handsome,” he said (I’m thinking “imagine,
a movie star telling me I’m handsome ... that’s
real honest to god humility, no? Or at least lack of vanity.) |
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| 9. He agrees to let me take his picture taking my
picture. And there you have it. I thanked him
and just as I was leaving, he reminded me that
it was MOST IMPORTANT to let it be known that
all proceeds from the sales of his photographs
will go to the Fireman’s Funds of NYFD.
Most important. Don’t forget; it’s
important to all of us. |
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And that was my Brendan Fraser moment. Worth
the trip. For more information about his photographic exhibition,
call the Leica Gallery 212-777-3051.
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Amy
Fine Collins and Ron Rosenthal
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Rain
stopped when I got back out onto Broadway. Muggy
though, heavy traffic. I decided to hop a subway back uptown – much
faster – to make it to Amy Fine Collins' party before
it was over.
There were Bentleys everywhere – they were hosting the party
along with
Simon & Schuster, Amy’s publisher and Vanity Fair magazine
whom Amy writes for. You just wanted to get in and drive one away. $350,000 later,
or whatever
they cost. Fat chance DPC. Meanwhile, there were bars set up inside and out (for
the smokers). There was a silent auction which, if you got it at the right price
(fat chance DPC) had some terrific items such as:
Deluxe Balcony Stateroom for two aboard a six-day transatlantic crossing on Queen
Mary II; Kwiat Diamond Right Hand Ring; Molina Diamond Right Hand Ring; Daniel
K Diamond Right Hand Ring; Weekend in a Bentley Continental GT; Weekend at Claridge’s
in London; Package to the Dodge/Skip Barber Driving School; LambertsonTruex Purse;
Manolo Blahnik gift certificate; 30 hours of driving lessons with Attila – the
"God
of Driving." |
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Caroline
Campion and Georgia Lawther |
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Darlene
Lutz and Mish Tworkowski |
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Charlie
Scheips and Jim Brosseau |
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Joe
Lupo and Peggy Siegal |
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Click
on image to order
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According
to my spies who’d not done the downtown before the uptown
and therefore had some time to have a look around, among the
boldfaces in the crowd
were many who’d been over to Tory Burch’s party at Bergdorfs and
then the Library party at Tiffany’s, and then some: Attila (the “God
of Driving”), Jonathan Adler, Simon Doonan, Earl and Countess Rufus Albemarle,
Dr. Sherrell and Muffie Potter Aston, Richard Avedon, Graydon Carter, Anna Scott,
Cece Cord, Robert Couturier, Jennifer and Larry Creel, Joanne and Roberto de
Guardiola, Jeffrey Podolsky and Milly de Cabrol, Beth Rudin De Woody, Dominick
Dunne, Ahn Duong; Jonathan and Somers Farkas, Reynaldo and Carolina Herrera,
Gale Hayman Haseltine, Susan Fales-Hill and Aaron Hill, Ann Jones, Nan Kempner,
Henry and Leila Hadley Luce, Mary McFadden, Georgette Mosbacher, Patti Raynes,
Lyn Revson, Marina Rust, Ivana Trump, Conchita Sarnoff, Anne Slater, R.L. Stine,
Simon Winchester, Bettina Zilkha.
And of course, our authoress, chic as ever, in her always Geoffrey
Beene best. Amy Fine Collins is one of those (now rare) New Yorkers who is always
turned out impeccably, always, as I said, in Geoffrey Beene. There’s a
thoroughness, an attention to detail, as well as a refinement which you get in
all of her Vanity Fair stories too. I haven’t read the book yet but I know
from knowing Amy that I’m in for a surprise as well as some enlightenment
about something I thought I already knew everything about. |
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L.
to r.: Len Morgan, Angus Willkie, Nancy Novogrod,
Robert Couturier, and Alex Hitz; Mark Gilbertson and
Di Petrov; Roy and Mallory Kean.
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| The
evening was capped off by a dinner at ChinChin
at 216 East 49th Street, the “restaurant chinois” where saw among
the discerningly serene diners, Parker Ladd and Arnold Scaasi (who’s
just
published his memoir – Scaasi: Women I Have Dressed and
Undressed) and Ahmet and Mica Ertegun, back in town after
their annual
summer sojourn to Turkey. |
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Tribute
of Lights. September 11th, 2004. Photo: Charles
Miller.
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