Count ’em: 4 fashion monarchs from around the globe spotted last night at NY’s tony Waverly Inn.

As we alighted at the Village hotspot du jour, paparazzi were piling up hot and heavy along sleepy Bank Street where signs warned strollers to keep quiet. We proceeded in scratching our heads wondering who they were trying to catch in some sordid tryst now and whether this would greatly hinder any chance of getting a table before next Ice age. Luckily they sat us before we could finish our glass of champers (alas it was in the Siberia of the front room where we luckily could keep tabs on who was coming and going but where we were oppressively shielded from the glitz of the main dining room).

Soon enough we found what the barrage of media outside was waiting for: a fit and fresh-from-rehab (again?) Marc Jacobs with full faggot entourage in tow. Cue round 1 of flash bulb snaps. Along with Marc’s exit came our entire meal — our appetizer and 2 main courses and side dish ALL AT ONCE! I’m rarely one to complain but, come on! Who does this? So after the immgrant bus boy suffered my bitchiness the waiter came over to ask if all was OK. Duh?! No, since when do you serve appetizers and entrees at the same time on a table that is barely 2feet by 2 feet?! So he retired one main course and the side dish (probably not before baking an extra special something into our chicken pot pie).

In need of the loo, I made my way through the busy dining room only to catch a glimpse of the seemingly AIDS ridden and seriously aging eighties/nineties god of minimalist New York, Mr. Calvin Klein. Poor guy, no matter how much exercise he’s doing to keep that body buff, age is wearing on him and he’s looking mighty sidoso if you ask me. (Que dios me perdone). I returned to my seat and chicken pot pie. Sidenote: despite the hasty service, the food was delicious. As we dug into the pot pie, London’s reigning king of fashion more-is-more, Alexander McQueen made a regal exit sadly to the flash of nary a bulb.

Just seconds later it seemed that the pap had gotten a tip that this guy is actually big, as a lightning storm of flashes went off. However the door swung open and in waltzed none other than this century’s powdered hair genius de la mode, Karl Lagerfeld (with fire-alarm-setting-off hottie and KL arm candy cum "bodyguard" Sebastian Jondeau). Fashion’s heavyweights from the four corners of the fashion globe had convened, albeit separately, on the WI all to see lil ol me! Isn’t life grand?

March 18, 2008