Last night was SUCH fun! The Greenhouse on Varick Street was simply packed with a crush of hangers-on, friends of Chris March, admirers, and drag queens. Tragically, my camera battery was dying. This was early in the evening, before the more, er, interesting guests arrived.
It's not just that the top encircles the bodice like a huge crocheted sausage, but you cannot see the fringed racer back in any of the photos. It was a found object, as I decided to call myself Lady Dada. No hat or jewelry could compete, so I kept it simple with a purple feather fascinator and lace-up leather boots, for that psychedelic saloon girl look.
Early in the evening I met two admirers, Flan and Sahid.
We were highly amused by the sight of men putting tiny pieces of duct tape on the wall lights. "It has to be the best duct tape," Flan observed. (Chris can be observed all the way in the back, in the corner. He did not move for the three hours I was there.)
Chris March could not have been more gracious. For a long time I sat next to him up in the VIP section, and watched as he was bombarded by fans, many of them in outfits and makeup that must have taken most of the day to put together. "I met you ten years ago...it was just for a hot minute!" one woman brayed. "Oh, yes, I remember you," Chris lied.
The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur, particularly because I hit the dance floor! One stocky Asian gentleman spun me in circles for a very long time. Another lovely man took me downstairs to the private room where the boogieing continued.
But when the strobe lights started, that was my cue to return to my beautiful (featured in Architectural Digest) apartment. I simply cannot bear strobes in any way, shape or form.
So that is my report of the night. Saturday night I was in attendance at a book signing for Vintage Fashion Accessories by Stacy LoAlbo, because of course I had written the forward. It was held at the MH Art & Framing Gallery on 9 West 20th St, the better to showcase the gorgeous photography. Not only did I meet one of the superbly talented photographers, Jimmy Lin, but also a woman who calls herself the Idiosyncratic Fashionista. And believe me, she was, and I mean that in the most flattering way possible.
And now it's Monday, and I still haven't done my SAG Awards Best and Worst Dressed List! A working woman's job is never done, even with a staff.
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog