I went to the Muleh/Moet event tonight at the Four Seasons. Not a bad concept, really. A strange crowd--I'd say only 5% were the usual suspects that you see everywhere, although as the night wore on, more began appearing.
A lot of friends got a bounceback email when they tried to rsvp saying that the guest list was full (one of my cohorts made a few phone calls to get us in)--but here's a few pointers: 1.) they didn't have a list at the door. Or at least not at the door that I entered (it was in the courtyard, I think we entered through the back side of the event). 2.) it wasn't crowded at all. 3.) their plan is to do six more of these.
Each week they're getting a different store or boutique (for a fee), to be the feature--with models roaming in the store's clothes, etc. That part didn't work at all--nor does it at any party ever. Models have to be elevated or separated for that to work. But the champagne was flowing and I was with two friends that I love dearly, so all was well and good.
Around 8, it was time to head home. I bid my farewells and headed out. I was looking down at my fabulous shoes, which were starting to hurt like all hell (Viktor + Rolf pumps with gold chain toes--which means that the toes don't give AT ALL, which means that ze big toes start feeling like bigger toes after a few hours). Anyway, I look up whilst concentrating on trying not to limp through The Four Seasons because that just wouldn't be cool at all, and there's Andre Agassi, just walking through the foyer. Just him and another guy, and it was pretty empty save for him and him and me and my two big big toes.
I gave him the "nod"--like "you're frigging famous, but I'm cool enough not to acost you." He looked back like "Um, yeah, whatever, you're the 5 millionth person to give me the 'nod' today."
So dork status confirmed, I said the hell with it and broke into full gingerly-stepping limp down the remainder of the foyer, out past the limos, and across the traffic on M. Viktor + Rolf make some funky shoes, but not shoes destined to walk down cobblestone streets before and after partying/standing up for two hours. And no amount of champagne or heroic tennis players in the world can fix that.