District L

Last night's party involved scented undergarments, vodka lemonade, and Alan Cumming.

Held in Liberty Hall of The Ace Hotel, his provocative "anti-celebrity" launch party drew us in with a lively crowd of industry insiders.

Gone are the days of being accosted by aggressive perfume ladies with scented paper strips. Thursday’s event provided a table of fragrance-soaked briefs by Nasty Pig. Naturally, guests were encouraged to take a whiff.

Balancing a glass of organic vodka in one hand and twirling a tiny, scented pair of men's briefs in the other? Forget what you learned in Consumer Behavior 101, kids -- because that's what we call 'marketing'.

Post by Amanda LaMela

As the last designer bowed out after her finale on Friday, the DL darlings took that cue to celebrate. Seconds after finishing up our final words for Sally LaPointe’s coverage, Nick, Madisen, and I wandered over to Bedlam for the Nomia afterparty. While enjoying our fair share of vodka sodas, we admired taxidermy decor, shared photos from our shows, and literally stumbled into Alan Cumming.

Needless to say, making it to General Idea the following morning was not easy – but it happened. The menswear collection was inspired by the letter-M, from the consonant’s shape to the words “mountain” and “military.”

After camping out in the Studio, I headed over to Binetti’s presentation in The Box. The first phrases jotted down in my pad were “foreign opulence” and “luxury safari.” And before you even ask: Yes, I would wear an ostrich-fringe silk-layered dress while hunting a tiger at the Ivory Lodge. Or maybe a beaded caftan.

Thirty-six photos later, I ambled out of The Box to grab yet another life-saving Starbucks. Betsey Johnson was holding a very animated interview a few feet away. At this point, I knew a phone call was necessary, “Nick, wake the hell up. You’re missing shows. And the many faces of Betsey.”

Post by Amanda LaMela

Today is Tuesday, but we are still feeling the ache from weekend separation pains. There is nothing like waking up without an alarm and heading to brunch for bottomless mimosas at 2pm, hunting around for designer mesh at the Gilt Warehouse Sale and stomping around the East Village late at night in faux fur.

The weekend began at White Noise for “The Wild Ones” party. Hosted by Samuel Valentine, the party attracted the most eclectic, irreverent crowd found south of 14^th Street. Every Friday, the wild ones of Lower Manhattan are lured to this quasi-hidden location with nostalgic music, glamrock décor and about a half-a-dozen photographers.

Saturday arrived in the blink of an eye. Nicolas spent the better part of his day revisiting the long-lost Altman building for the Gilt Warehouse Sale. While he sifted through rare, discounted designer merchandise amongst cocktails and Vita Coco, I spent the morning shopping around the West Village. But when the January doldrums rendered regular retail hopeless, I shared an afternoon of gluten-free goodness at two Lower East Side establishments, Pala and Babycakes.

The sun went down and it was time to plan the night’s festivities once more: Bedlam was the first stop on the itinerary. Anderson Cooper’s boyfriend, Benjamin Maisani, opened Bedlam in September 2010 and the bar has since welcomed bold-faces names like Matthew Broderick, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Alan Cumming. Full of large taxidermy projects, vintage anatomy graphs, and yellowed photo wallpaper, the bar also attracts an anonymous mix of stylish PYTs.

When Sunday morning rolled around, it was time to make the last make-or-break decision: Where to brunch?

Nicolas, Rachel, and I decided to venture away from the norm and head uptown to Zucchero E Pomodori. While the crowd was more “B&T state school sorority reunion” than “pre-fashion week urbanite,” the three of us wholeheartedly enjoyed our delicious dishes and unlimited mimosas. After our brunchtastic rendezvous, we made our way to Rachel’s abode to check out some of her newest projects.

To ease the pain of having our weekend ripped away like a sticky band-aid, I aimlessly sifted through Saturday’s neglected mail. And what do I find, but a certain unmistakable plexi-glass Fashion Week invite? Withdrawals, be gone: With Fashion Week just around the corner, we have no time to fret the hours between 9-and-5!

Post by Amanda LaMela