Blasblog: A Fashion Week By Any Other Name?
I’d heard Cannes was like a fashion week for the film industry, but when I arrived here yesterday, I found that only half true. Yes, lots of dressed-up people were milling about, looking busy and stressed—fashion week to a T. But unlike fashion week, I didn’t see too many people I knew, and the spotting of those I didn’t know were a little less than inspiring. I made my first celebrity spotting the day I arrived at the du Cap hotel. It was Jean-Claude Van Damme.
But by sunset, I was hooked. The folks at Chivas invited me to the premiere of Robin Hood, starring Cate Blanchett and Russell Crowe. Now, that was some glamour. After the film we hit up the Palme d’Or restaurant in the Martinez hotel for a four-course meal and a whiskey tasting. A self-proclaimed vodka man—lest we forget, a Blasberg is a vodka and ginger ale, according to Amy Sacco—I wasn’t too enthusiastic about the prospect of whiskey, but turns out I had just been drinking the wrong stuff. The 25-year-old Chivas was worth the wait. Maybe it was the whiskey goggles, but I was starting to see the whole film’s-fashion-week comparison. And then, like a vision, I ran into a fashion week veteran: my friend Liya Kebede, who’d just gotten into town. She was looking a little nervous—for good reason. The model-turned-actress is here to promote her film, Desert Flower, and she told me she’s receiving this year’s Chopard Trophy for Female Revelation—joining the ranks of Marion Cotillard, Diane Kruger, and Ludivine Sagnier—in recognition of her breakthrough performance.
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