For many New Yorkers, myself included, weekends are sacred, a time to catch up on TiVo, devour mozzarella sticks, and, most of all, sleep. But this Saturday night left little time for social detoxing. First up was the Lady Gaga concert at Terminal 5 on 56th Street, which drew the likes of Steven Klein, Zac Posen, Cyndi Lauper—and, wait for it, Madonna. (I actually saw Madge pull up in the back—in a three-SUV caravan, by the way—with Lourdes in tow.) I can’t say I was a Gaga fan before, but when the girl came out blowing bubbles while wearing a dress made of bubbles to sit at a clear glass piano filled with bubbles and seriously belted out some musical numbers, I can say with some certainty I started to get the obsession. From there it was a race to Webster Hall to see the Kills concert. By the time I arrived, both Alison Mosshart and Jamie Hince were half covered in sweat. Afterward, I stuck around backstage—I’m not gonna lie here—to smoke cigarettes with Winona Ryder, Jessica Stam, and Alexa Chung, the last of whom explained that she had chopped her hair into a bob because she worried that if she moved to America she’d be tempted to get blow-outs for her MTV show, which debuts next month. Then it was on to Harry Josh and Nur Khan’s Spring Fling party at the Gramercy Park, which was a tabloid magazine come to life: Goldie Hawn, Kate Hudson, Jessica Alba, Elizabeth Banks, Kate Bosworth, etc. (Check back later for a party report.) And then, finally, I huffed it down to Tribeca to Stuart Parr’s marble palace for a party Carlos Mota was throwing for Giambattista Valli—I got there just in time to give an exiting Giamba my taxi. Still, I went in for one last cocktail with Margherita Missoni, Jen Brill, Adam Lippes, and Lauren Santo Domingo. Sean Avery came over at the last minute—but just to see the indoor swimming pool in the marble basement. Hey, a Valli dress might be impressive, but a swimming pool in Manhattan can make a girl swoon.