4 posts tagged "Mondrian Soho"
There’s never a shortage of wild parties during fashion week, but one NYFW bash in particular is still being talked about—the VMan 21 party at the Mondrian Soho two Februarys ago where Kanye West made it rain money. Yes, real money, and lots of it. (OK, admittedly, Alexander Wang’s frat party and Valentino’s epic karaoke performance at Westway, both last September, were also standouts.) As we study our invites for next week, we’re wondering which shindig, if any, will measure up. Stay tuned.
While Paris’ week of défilés and fashion fêtes finally drew to an end, a coterie of New York and Hollywood power brokers, including Bill Clinton, Ivanka Trump, and Wyclef Jean, convened at the School of Visual Arts Theater in Chelsea last night for the premiere of The Way, benefiting the Walkabout Foundation. The heartwarming film stars Golden Globe-winning actor Martin Sheen as a father who loses his son and treks through El Camino de Santiago.
The film had Donna Karan thinking about her own travels—the designer is gearing up for her Eat, Pray, Love odyssey to Haiti, Australia, and Bali. “I love to travel,” Karan told Style.com, sporting her quintessential urban warrior look, including an African mask necklace she found in Senegal and recycled horn cuffs from Haiti. “I’ve always been obsessed with anything handcrafted and artisanal; it’s the story of my life,” Karan said. Never one to shy away from steroidal bling, honorary chair Ivanka Trump reveled in her eponymous diamond line and in her new role as mom. “It’s been unreal,” gushed Trump about her 3-month-old daughter Arabella. Still, she admits, “it’s good not to be nine and a half months pregnant.”
But the real showstopper, before the crowd defected to the after-party at the Mondrian Soho, was when host President Bill Clinton took to the podium, causing the audience to erupt into a standing ovation. Ever the media darling, Clinton started directing shots while posing for a phalanx of photographers, prompting his daughter, Chelsea, to quip to a nearby handler, “He’s always a stage manager.”
Last night’s dinner for Jade Jagger gave new meaning to the expression “tie one on.” The designer was in town to show off her new collection of jewelry, which included “disco diamonds” and baubles featuring Corinthian leaves and Apollonian arrows. “I wasn’t thinking of the Olympics, I promise,” noted Jagger, as plates of crab claws and fish tacos landed on the table at Mister H. Guests at the dinner, including Anna Dello Russo, left the party with a Jagger piece of their own—a red string bracelet flecked with ribbon and beads, which Jagger personally tied onto every wrist. One diner entertained a scruple: Was there, er, any kind of religious meaning to this bracelet? “No—it’s a temple bracelet,” Jagger said, going on to explain that the bracelets are commonplace in India, where she produces all her jewelry. “That would be funny, though, if there was,” she added, knotting the bracelet. “Ha ha, guess what? You’re in my cult now.”
The spitting weather wasn’t enough to kill the Mondrian SoHo’s buzz last night. Russell Simmons, Prabal Gurung, Richard Chai, Thakoon and Eve stopped all by to celebrate the hotel’s official opening, dine at chef Sam Talbot’s Imperial No. Nine restaurant, catch a set by The Kills’ Jamie Hince and Allison Mosshart (above), and then head for the hotel’s club, Mister H.
Prabal Gurung, stylist Brad Goreski, and friends showed off their dance moves under a neon sign that reads—in Chinese letters—”Happy, Love, Drunk.” Overdo it on that last one and you might be tempted to take a turn on the newly-installed stripper pole, but you’d have to compete with the evening’s hired entertainment. A group of scantily clad dancers were wrapped around it.
“I kind of feel like I am in L.A.,” confessed Ally Hilfiger, as she gazed at the decadent chandeliers and a table topped with crystal vases of all shapes and sizes. “I am a big fan of the Mondrian—their bedding is very soft, which I appreciate as a designer.” Goreski, for his part, had meant to leave after dinner and make his way home to to his own bed—lthe better to rest up for a “big job on Saturday”—but the call of the Mister H after-party was too strong, and off he went.
The evening’s DJ, Mia Moretti, also had to soldier on. The dance floor was still full, after all, and after that? “I’m off to Austin tomorrow morning for South by Southwest and I can’t even look at my schedule past then!”
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