Beautiful People, Outdoor Parties, and Valentino

And just like that, the city is alive again. Let’s romanticize this, this end of summer, return to the city, vapid and self-important seven days of fantastic shows and merrymaking that is otherwise known as Fall Fashion Week. You know what I’m about to say. Insert varied Candace Bushnell-esqe clichés insinuating the foray into fall: the September air, the tanned Hamptonites returning from their dream cloud, and day-timers overflowing with party invites. Sounds fine to me, especially since I spent the end of summer checking my spam folder for possibly missing evites. The open bars were closed or existed only in sober memory, the swag bags had no swag -or bag for that matter, and I drank my ego deflation away at the Beatrice an embarrassing number of times. Finally, it began last night at the premiere of The Red Thread: The Inspiration and Passion of Valentino Garavani.

The party was actually a celebration of the “Samsung Imagination Icon Series,” a detail that was nearly overlooked due to my narrowed insight. My mind was swimming. Valentino, Valentino, Valentino, champagne, Valentino. We arrived to walk the red carpet and immediately were introduced to a maze of plasma TVs flashing the film, and glass cases exhibiting astonishing Valentino numbers. Valentino elaborated on the partnership: “It was an opportune time for us to work together and to use the film as content to tell the story of the exhibition. There is something very interesting about technology and fashion coming together to represent the imagination of designers in such a dynamic, innovative way.” Quite a few bold-faced names came to show support for Valentino: The Last Emperor. Liv Tyler, Alan Cumming, Mary J. Blige, Vivica A. Fox, Katie Lee Joel, Christian Siriano, Dominique Swain, Rachel Zoe, Nigel Barker, and designer Yigal Azrouël were spotted by many in my camp. I was too taken with the atmosphere (and the champagne) to really notice. I know it may be tough to top this shin-dig, but we’ve got plenty of time. So get out your shiny cardboard invites, get that narcissistic look off your face, and go crash the Purple party. We’ll be right behind you.