15 posts tagged "Byrdie Bell"
Last week, after two glorious days in Chicago, my love affair with America’s heartland continued this weekend. This time, I was back home in St. Louis, Missouri, for two days of fashion and art. On Friday night, I spoke at a panel discussion at Washington University’s Sam Fox School, which has the oldest four-year fashion design program in the U.S. Decades’ Cameron Silver joined me onstage alongside local fashion editors Ellen Futterman and Nicole Benoist Edgerton for a chat moderated by Professor Jeigh Singleton. I shared the heartbreaking tale of my childhood rat tail and crying when my mother cut it off. It was then that I learned just how emotionally attached we human beings can be to personal style. Even when it’s heinous.
The highlight of the weekend was Saturday night’s DADA Gala at the Contemporary Art Museum of St. Louis, featuring a vintage couture fashion show. Silver, who produced the show, had introduced me to two lovely local ladies, Susan Sherman and Tania Beasley-Jolly (pictured below) last year, and they promptly signed me up. Chloë Sevigny was happy to join as an honorary chair (seen in Versus, with my mom, left), as did fellow St. Louis native Karlie Kloss (pictured with two of her three sisters, above), who actually grew up only a few streets away from where I did—though I should say it was about a decade later. She was taking in her first fashion show not on the runway; the Olivier Theyskens for Rochas-clad model told me that when she’s on the catwalk, she can often hear entire conversations people are having in the front row. (Make a mental note, fellow editors.) My three good girlfriends Claire Bernard, Byrdie Bell, and Fabiola Beracasa (below, with museum director Paul Ha) may be able to confirm that. They graciously filled in for three models who weren’t able to make the show. The ladies looked smashing in the vintage couture, and were rivaled only by the vintage couture in the audience—a sea of Scaasi, Chanel, and Halston.
I’ve made no secret of my love for what my East and West Coast friends call the fly-over states, but two magical days in Chicago—hosted by fashion’s favorite teen blogger and Oprah’s favorite interiors guru—just reinforced my Midwest pride. I arrived in the Windy City early on Wednesday morning and headed for Nate Berkus’ digs overlooking Lake Michigan, which made me want to immediately go back to my messy apartment in downtown New York and set it ablaze. Perhaps Nate sensed my real estate insecurities, because soon after his home tour, he took me to nearby P.J. Clarke’s to drown my sorrows in all sorts of desserts. Later that night, we were joined by some New York pals—Fabiola Beracasa, Byrdie Bell, Lyle Maltz, and MTV’s SuChin—for a fête Berkus hosted with Alexis Maybank, the founder of the online fashion site Gilt Groupe, on top of the W hotel to toast my new book, Classy (take our Classy Quiz here). With an appearance on the WGN morning show at 6 a.m. the next day, I really should have called it a night, but after our cocktail party, a few of us met visiting designer Chris Benz, who was in another part of town for a private trunk show of his Fall collection. Chris and I have been friends since our freshman years at college (Parsons and NYU, respectively), so it was nice that our careers crossed paths—on my turf!
Thursday’s call time was brutal, but the day turned out just as pleasant as the day before, especially the afternoon I spent at the Art Institute of Chicago with Style Rookie‘s Tavi Gevinson. Not one to mess around with her looks, the city’s most stylish teenager showed up in a Miu Miu removable collar, a Prada lipstick skirt she purchased on eBay, and floral-print Dr. Martens boots. We had planned to see the museum’s Matisse exhibit, which I had been told was top-notch, but it closed at 5 p.m.—too early a last call when you’re waiting for your friend to meet you downtown after she gets out of her eighth grade gym class. No worries, though; we happily whiled away the late afternoon looking at an inspiring collection of early French, English, and American interior designs in miniature menageries. (Viewing the chicest dollhouses ever, we agreed the nineteenth-century French bathroom was the place to be.) The night ended at the famed Gino’s Pizza with a way-too-filling deepest deep dish ever. Tavi removed her Miu Miu collar for that, lest she spill on it. Yes, the food was that good.
“I figured a barbecue was a good way to celebrate the end of summer,” Charlotte Ronson explained at her blowout fête at the Chelsea Piers last night. Given the heat index, the event didn’t much feel like a last hurrah. What with the fried chicken, burgers, cotton candy, and ice cream on offer, the party, given in honor of the I Heart Ronson Fall collection for JCPenney, came off more like a conspicuously haute state fair. One where Champagne is served instead of pork rinds, and where guests are invited to take home, say, a body-con top with cutouts, rather than check out the latest in ag technology. Nevertheless, Fall was definitely in the air: Ronson admitted that she’s been burning the midnight oil prepping for fashion week, and Chris Benz made the scene along with buddy Eva Amurri, despite similar preoccupations. Inside, Byrdie Bell, Fabiola Beracasa, and Jennifer Creel awaited. (Socials! In the city! In August!) And of course, the full complement of Ronsons turned up—Sam and Mark worked the decks, Ann Dexter-Jones worked the crowd. And for what it’s worth, Cintra Wilson: Despite the Penney’s imprimatur, pretty much everyone in attendance was fashionably slender. Then again, what with all the fried chicken and ice cream, maybe the department store is trying to fatten us New Yorkers up.
There was so very much to ogle at last night’s party on the roof deck of David Yurman’s Tribeca headquarters. First, the panoramic views of the Hudson, doused in end-of-day sunlight, and second, Yurman’s signature bling, glinting on guests and arrayed in display cases. (In case the glare from either view was too bright, an assistant was on hand with loaner shades.) Third, a gaggle of models, including Hilary Rhoda, who was camped out on a white banquette in the corner; Selita Ebanks; and Du Juan, the face of Yurman’s Fall 2008 campaign. (That’s not even mentioning PYTs Byrdie Bell and Leigh Lezark.) The jeweler’s next poseur, Dominican stunner Arlenis Sosa, glowing in coral pink Hervé Léger and plenty of gratis gems, was all business, staying on message for her new employer. “I think this one’s my favorite,” she said, picking out a particularly shiny bangle from the stack on her wrist. Sosa, who follows the likes of Kate Moss and Natalia Vodianova as David Yurman’s new face, eyed current campaign girl Anna Selezneva’s larger-than-life Yurman ads. “Anna’s pictures look so pretty,” she gushed. “But mine will be better. I love Anna, so I can say that.”
The enormous hole left agape in New York’s downtown lounge circuit when the Beatrice Inn was closed for a laundry list of violations a few months ago has been partially filled by the Tribeca bar 77 Warren, conveniently opened by Beatrice regular (and sometime New York Ranger) Sean Avery, Smith & Mills co-owner Chris Miller, and Beatrice Inn co-founder Matt Abramcyk. Although the chic nightspot—which somehow blends posh wood paneling and Diane Arbus artwork with hockey jerseys and flat-screen TVs that, yes, occasionally showcase sporting events (but only the trendy ones, like Lakers games)—has been open a few weeks now. Thursday night tested the new place’s staying power when it hosted the unofficial Burberry after-party. It passed. Kelly Klein and Aerin Lauder Zinterhofer were holding court with Catherine Keener and Brendan Shanahan at the booth nearest the door; next to them were Jen Brill, Byrdie Bell, Hilary Rhoda, and Bonnie Morrison having a late-night dinner; and bringing up the rear were Julia Restoin-Roitfeld, Sophia Hesketh, Magnus Berger, and Brooke Geahan. Not bad for a soft opening. “The best part about this place is the food,” said Brill. She wasn’t kidding: At her table was a roast chicken, a house salad, grilled cheese, and, according to Avery himself, the best mac and cheese in New York City.
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