The Fabulous, Fabulous Nick

R. Nichols Sale: It's almost over (tomorrow)!: save 30% off your R. Nichols order by listing "SWEET" as your code.

And now there are four whole reasons not to hate Orlando:
1.) Prive for blowouts
2.) Seasons 52
3.) Orlando Premium Outlets
4.) ....and the R. Nichols Shop, opening Fall 2007!

Above: Just The Ladies notecards, which I'm thinking will be the invites for my Pucci and Marimekko-inspired girls afternoon housewarming luncheon. As soon as I get some furniture!

Quick Reprieve From a Busy Day

Four Seasons: so fun! Great bar, decadent grub, good goodie bag (including a great like 12-piece wine opener set), though the thing weighed 800 lbs. and I forgot to get validated so I headed up, then down, then up again (like Balthazar, just with the added plus of carrying the equivalent of a brick-filled backpack).

Ibiza: opening delayed. Show me the restaurant or bar that has opened on schedule. Just one. Ever.

Me: typing this from my now functional kitchen. Granted, it's dusty and there's porch furniture in here at the moment, but who has a magic drawer in their kickass 42" refrigerator that can chill a 6-pack or bottle of wine in 20 minutes? Yes, my friends, that would be me.

A Completely Random Post

Drama hath subsided.

Sister still okay. Cousin out of ICU. Mother--who, like the rest of us in my family, always looks for the absolutely most difficult way to possibly handle anything--couldn't be bothered to buy a ticket to Florida so instead drove there (see a and b, neither of which are related). She arrived okay. Favoritist job I thought I lost I don't think I did. So now it's just my usual crazy work schedule. I think I did myself in when I was starting all of this up and was bragging that my ultimate goal was to have lunch hour by the pool every day in the summer.

I've been once. For a half hour. With my laptop.

Looking forward to tonight's DC Magazine Luxury event at the Four Seasons, though I was just outside doing some quick pre-thunderstorm gardening (like CHB, I also like to work under pressure) and it appears that I earned quite the striped tan. And two blisters on my hands. So I'll be the farmer at tonight's event.

Other random thoughts:
1.) Not to sound too Nicole Richie (esp since I have a good 30 on her, easy), but in a pinch, most of the new Orbit flavors make a decent substitute for lunch.
2.) Why didn't Daisy Too move into the Bethesda space that is now National Jean Company and move Daisy Baby upstairs? They could have even left the salon chairs in upstairs and, a la Cusp, given free pedis to clients.

So. Fashion Girl has asked me to pony up 7 things that you might not know. As I tend to tell everyone everything always, and what I don't tell you in person tends to go on here, there are some of you that might know all of the below. And I think I may have been tagged with something similar before. So maybe this should be "7 Things, At Least Several That You Already Know, But Try Not To Act Too Bored."

Here goes:
1.) I used to be an editor at a woodworking magazine that was owned by a porn company.
2.) I was in Glamour in 1998. It is the worst picture of me ever, ever taken by far. Someday I'll get it through my thick skull that Chanel is just the worst thing for me (though it's been 9 years and I still try, so maybe not).
3.) I'm the quiet, reserved one in my family. Like incredibly so.
4.) My mother took off her skirt at my wedding. And did the Charleston. It gets far worse than that but I'll spare you the gory details.
5.) If you ever notice my slightly sunkissed shoulders, it's actually Sun Kissed by Laura Mercier.
6.) I ALWAYS have the best ideas for Halloween costumes--on November 1 (see Daisy idea above).
7.) I'm about 15% of the way through my first novel.

I won't tag anyone, but if you want to drop something unusual about your fabulous self, definitely do so in the comments!

Three, two...

Well. This day just went to HELL in a handbasket in one 30-second phonecall. Crap.

Too hot, too cold, too late, I'm sold...

Wow. Today. So that was a blur. One of those where I was so up to my eyeballs that the only way I knew it was 6:00 was from the throbbing that is my butt bone from sitting behind my computer for far too long.

But this weekend. Now that, my leetle fashionable friends, was just fine.

For starters: SoHo Grand. I don't know why we always stay there--maybe because due to my old old job, I always could score an upgrade. No upgrade this time--room was okay, though really small. Some air conditioning regulation would really benefit occupants (me). Options were 800, or four, degrees.

And you know how, for example, you see that one, say, fuschia handknit Balenciaga sweaterdress at Kirna Zabete that looks so fab on you but you just can't pull the trigger because, realistically, how many times can you wear a fuschia handknit sweaterdress (that you know you'll drop "thanks--it's Balenciaga" EVERY SINGLE time someone comments on it because you just can't help yourself even though it makes you look like a pompous ass) before you overdo it and it sits in your closet and right when it's about to become truly fantastically retro a family of moths gets to it? BUT for the rest of your shopping trip, nothing else looks good because it's not THAT dress?

That's kind of how shopping was. Well, it was a little about the dress, but much more about the 8 kazillion dollar Oscar Satio Oiwa painting that I've been longing for for about three years. It's still there, at this awesome little shop on Mercer, in need of a home--one that can afford an 8 kazillion dollar Oscar Satio Oiwa painting (which isn't mine). So there was that.

But the food: now that was a whole other story. For starters, Lure. It's kind of like bigger hardwood Fly with food. And Prada. On a boat. If that makes any sense. Oh, and there were potato chips and a drink recipe I texted to TLM in a drunken stupor. So yes, Lure = good.

Then if it's Saturday and it's NYC, it's brunch at Balthazar. Because no one gets their percentages of horseradish, vodka, and tomatoes just as perfectly precise as those geniuses behind the bar. No one. It's summer, so the crowd was mainly comprised of tourists casually looking around to see who they could see. Answer = no one, just more tourists. But yum. Tip: there's an attendant in their very stocked bathroom at all times. So your options are: a.) bring your purse b.) forget your purse, then have to head all the way up, down, and back up 20 crickety stairs to tip said attendant or c.) feel guilty all day. I went for option b. this time--have never, ever been bright enough to go for a.).

Then shopping. See above. But add in the stellar Pucci vintage collection at What Comes Around Goes Around, the fab hippy snotty Plenty dress I got for next to nothing at Scoop, and the great Hendrix shirt I got my son at same.

Next, a little irony: the Meatpacking district for Craftsteak. Oh, and I in my favorite comfy-blanket Manoush grey dress from Alex. Was stopped three times by pretty awesomely clad people asking about it (including a fabulous man who ran up to ask if it was French). Between that and my husband who was given the nod and stopped about 50 times to ask about his Wilco shirt whilst shopping, we actually felt a wee bit cool. In NYC. Kind of unprecendented.

So back to the meats. So Proof (has it opened yet? Anyone?) is modeled on the Craft concept. And if they nail it half as well as the Craft people, then holy bejezus it will be the BESTEST restaurant in DC (at least until Ris' restaurant opens). From the innovative, impeccable decor, to the flawless service to the humongo wine list (Cadence Cabernet--not hugely expensive but a solid choice) to the "medium rare plus option" offered for the greatgreat dinner to the peanut butter caramel deliciousness that was dessert, they just got it.

And just when that was quite decadent enough came the encore--with your check, you get individually wrapped homemade cinnamon muffins for the next morning. And they are frigging perfection.

Dear Mr. Kuller,
Please do that.
Sincerely,
Babsie D.

So be ready to spend the equivalent of a Balenciaga fuschia sweaterdress on your meal, but no regrets at all.

Things we did: saw Tatum O'Neill (who I see EVERY time I'm in NYC, I swear it), debated buying the way cool photograph of Keith Richards with a bottle of Jack that we almost buy every time we're there, napped before going out because we're damn old.
Things we didn't do: Stop a Broome Street, Barneys or Bergdorfs, see the fabulous Holly at HollyWould (damndamndamn!), stop to see preggers p.r. maven K who rules the town, 5 college roommates, or favorite former co-worker L. Had to focus.

So that's about it. I've lost about 10 pounds in the last few months due to stress and sheer laziness, but think I put them all back this weekend. But to spend three days with the man who somehow still loves me, starting it all with great music, ending with great muffins? Yeah, worth it.

Back...

...from Wilco (which ROCKED).
...and NYC (as well!)

...but first, some latebreaking merger news, coming from Miami and my sister whose car lost its breaks yesterday and who had to flip out of her Louboutins and jump out of the (moving) car before it smashed into the back of a CVS. She's a little banged up, but had a flight to catch so she ran into the ER, tended to her bruises, called me, then headed off. (Oh, and called AAA and left her keys with the random CVS guy).

Anyway, I always thought these two guys HATED each other (not sure about the third one--the Wynn, et al guy--but don't think much of his pubs, anyway)--but guess we'll never know now!

And the Winners Are...

Looks like the chosen have been chosen: calls are going out now for the selections for Washingtonian's Best Dressed List in the September issue. Did you get the tap? (No, I didn't--that's why I was asking you, silly!).

No worries, you can always console yourself tonight at one of the myriad of parties:
For the kidliwinks: Smith Point's Kissing Booth for Charity
For the slightly older kidliwinks: Blue Gin's Resort Party
For the truly fabulous of all ages: CF's Black Book Party (a great list this year!)

Me, I'll be at Wilco. If you're heading out there, be sure not to miss the opener, Low: they're great (and the main reason I'm going!).

Then off to NYC tomorrow at 9 a.m. Laptop: at home. Report upon return; have a fabulous weekend!

As To Be Expected...

Once M3 and I get to hang out, which is somewhat rare (she's a high-powered media, well, powerhouse, so she's a little bit busy), we get to chatting. And gossiping. And laughing. And more gossiping. And then it's 11:00 and we're wrapping it up at Milano, the rest of the plans be damned.

So, of note:
Ali Wentworth: hysterical. Her off-color remarks were candid and hilarious and are always such a breath of fresh air.
Ben Bradlee: you know how famous people always look shorter and older in person? He looks neither. He looks EXACTLY like you see him on air and in print. In the presence of a legend.
Norah O'Donnell: So her twins are a month old. And she looks like she's never even had 'em. Perfectly in shape, gorgeous as ever. And she has the same hottie doctor as me. So hot that I was flirting with him on the operating table during an emergency C. (and, note to my friend S, who also shares: he's separating...).
Patrick Kennedy and one of the Shrivers*: at Milano, the Shriver entered carrying an open bottle of rum in hand. And that, my friends, is what's great about being a Kennedy.

So if anyone went to Gore-Dean or Sicko, do tell!

*Not sure which one: grey hair, big teeth? Doesn't quite narrow it down...

A Week Late*

So besides Bridgehampton Polo, The Barefoot Contessa, Nick & Toni's, and celebrity gawking (Aerin Lauder: as perfect in person as you would think), here's another reason to love the Hamptons...

One of my favorite charites. Their Holiday Catalog: highlight of the year every year (and note: most of the items right now are on dirt cheap clearance, so stock up for next Christmas!).

Why did my sister have to leave her cash-encumbered husband?? WHY???? Oh Quogue, you have no idea how much I miss you.

*and, realistically, a grand short.

A Schedule That Could Only Be Tackled With A Ridiculous Amount of RBVs

Tonight:
6:00: Freak out about what in the hell to wear. Am happy with today's outfit, but not sure if it will work tonight. RL outfit I've been saving may be too hot since it's a summer cardy and it's 8,000 degrees outside. Wore gold RL pants to Momzillas. Okay, getting stressed already....

6:45: Meet at friend M3's. Adjust to being the shorter, dumpier, less fabulous friend with much worse karma (she is the NICEST person ever. Like there's a ranking kept by some all-knowing being somewhere, and she's literally #1) for the rest of the evening.

7:00: Head to The Manny party, a fun party where I'm just a guest, not the worker bee. Holly Peterson: father: founded the Blackstone Group (yes, THE BG), stepmother founded the Children's Television Workshop. She's a childhood friend of host Ali Wentworth. So yes, poor and unconnected.

7:45: Head over to Sicko premiere at the Uptown. M3 scored those invites.

8:45: Maybe stop over to Gore-Dean for launch party for Spectacular Homes of Greater Washington, DC; the book features my favorite designer, Jeffrey Akseizer, and his work on my friend M's house.

9:00: Head back over to RL; our friend E from Vogue (sponsors of the event) is in town, and she ROCKS. So off to drinks and late dinner.

So, to recap: I'm thinking I'm all cool, which means that inevitably some completely dorky thing will happen to me at one of the above events (will walk into a pole, fall down a flight of stairs, a huge zit will develop between now and 6:45, etc.). And realistically, we'll probably go to RL and stay there, due to E's fabulousness and our chatty cathiness--we'll start chitchatting away and all of a sudden it will be 9:30.

Will review tomorrow!

Not the thing to attend before a NYC shopping trip...

So tonight's event was the Nordstrom Fall Designer's Preview at the National Building Museum to benefit Knock Out Abuse. Part of a series of these events (it travels to Chicago next), the event was a full-on, New York-caliber fashion show, including 30 models flown in from all over (including Miss Dominican Republic--really), modeling fall fashions from Dior, Michael Kors, Lanvin, Valentino, Jil Sander and others (12 "scenes" in all) with a lil' shopping on the side.

DIT's present: two of the three M's, MF, the charity guru that I came with and one of the coolest people in this town, jewelry maven E that I haven't seen in literally 12 years since we waited tables together in college (she hasn't aged a bit), editors K and K, plus my preggers friend A, who just looks more fashionable by the second, with her gorgeous friend R, wife of famed NBA player (decked in to-die-for silver and purple Choos that looked more Balenciaga than Jimmy--just stellar).

Then press in the front center row, and the rest: Full On Doyennes, no training necessary. From Pat Skantze in her primary colored caftan and hat the size of my car to Pamela Aparicio (dear lord, even more beautiful in person, this city's celebrity-caliber beauty) to every last one of the oft-photographed "wives ofs" and exes-of, it was a crowd not to be reckoned with.

The food: spectacular; the bar, stocked; the fashions: fantastique (yes, deserving of the q).

Of note: Versace's black swing coat; the shoes at Jil Sander (custom made for the event, not available anywhere); the brilliant branding of Michael Kors (the same models throughout the show, yet every woman in the room wanted to emulate the sunglassed jetsetting image that MK portrayed); the Isabella Blow tribute in the very Phillip Treacy-esque feathered hats that must have had the Dior team of milliners working through many a night; the Vintage Gold leather that RL worked into his ensembles (not quite gold, not quite bronze); the black silk front zip Lanvin coatdress. And the cheesecake.

Not of note: Donna Karan and her Seven Easy Pieces redux that just looks 80's rehashed; the fact that you can't find most of these designers at any Nordstrom in our area.

Parting gifts: pink and black full-sized Nordstrom ceramic teapots for one and all. All in all, quite the heady experience.

On the way home, The Cure came on and brought me back to a summer vacation I spent with my friend Angie and her family. I was an awkward 16-year old all over again. And I realized that even now, in my 5" heels and fancy party dress, surrounded by fabulous friends, incredible fashions and not a few Kir Royales, I'm still more her than anyone else.

You can see all of these fashions today at Nordies Tysons from 10-2 in Designer Collections--and a portion of sale proceeds will benefit Knock Out.

Gotta love a beautiful invitation..

(what doesn't translate is the metallic paper and the art inside--quite fabulous, all).

Perhaps a good idea to shop shoving Blazin' Buffalo & Ranch Doritos (aka, crack) down my throat like they're TicTacs if I'm going to fit into my negative-size RL kazillion dollar pants tonight*. Just a thought.

What's everyone wearing?

*Bought w/wholesale credit, of course. Have I said that I love my job?

Ze Weekend

So, while waiting for my decorator to show, a little recap o' the weekend...

Saturday, stopped by the Courage Cup with my friend L. That team put on one hell of an event. It's one thing to throw a launch party, even a tradeshow; a completely different beast to set up a tented fete in a field for 700. It was truly impressive. It brought back so many fun polo memories--walking the VIP tent with my friend K at Bridgehampton, past a cartwheeling Betsy Johnson, and doubling over at her completely catty color commentary (K's about the poseurs in last season's MK, not Betsy's); heading down to last year's CC with TLM...Can't wait for the Young Benefactors Polo Cup on the National Mall.

I was a few feet away from Lezlie Hiner, founder of Work To Ride, for a portion of the afternoon. Watching her coach her boys, quietly watching the event unfold in front of her, was just a humbling experience.

From there, headed down to Annapolis, to our friend's birthday party. His house, listed on the National Register, is just amazing--huge columned porches all around, a few acres of old trees and beautifully manicured hedgerows in front. It used to be in complete disrepair--the band Jimmy's Chicken Shack lived there for a number of years, staging humongous parties in its 14' ceilinged living room and concerts on the lawn. They moved out, the house was left to decay, until a couple bought it and started restoring it. Next came my friends who bought it about 4 years ago and finished the restoration. The original part of the house was built in the early 1700's, and supposedly a ghost lives on the third floor, though I've never seen her.

My son, who used to be painfully shy, walked right up to a bunch of kids, waved hello and asked them to play baseball. The older kids wanted nothing to do with him ("He can't play baseball with us--he's a baby!"), which is such a painful thing to watch. My boy didn't even care, though, grabbed a bat, and hit a ball clear down the field that shut the brats up for a while. Ha.

Yesterday, first Father's Day (presents: a Marimekko messenger bag and the promise to stay off my laptop all day yesterday), then the Rammys. A client was a big sponsor, so we had two really fun tables full of every fabulous club owner around. Save for the part where someone's dress caught on fire, it was a great night. The restaurant community here is just a fascinating, wonderful bunch. And I got to see one of my fave people on the planet, Ris Lacoste, which is always so fun. Cannot wait for her restaurant to open! Original date was set for late fall--not sure if that's still true, but whenever, it's going to be amazing.

Stopped by for a post-event drink at the Ritz, then off to bed after a long, long weekend, which is just a precursor to this week's event-filled schedule, followed by a long weekend at the Soho Grand. I can smell the sale rack at Kirna Zabete already...

Photo: Iglehart, circa 2005 at my friend's wedding. I set them up!

The Price Was Right

Back in the early 80's, my aunt and uncle (family friends, not blood relatives, but they were very close) moved to California. It being LA, they got in a bit over their heads and were quite stressed financially. My uncle took my aunt to see The Price Is Right. He got interviewed in line once, then again. Then was walked to a special seat. He was pretty sure something was up.

Sure enough, he got called. And won. Then won the Showcase Showdown, bidding within $100 so he won them both (he worked for the FBI, he was a pretty detail-oriented guy). If memory serves, he won a Mustang, a vacation, a fur coat and a swingset for his kids amongst other stuff. My aunt was so excited that she ran right past him and straight for the fur.

They sold it all, except for the swingset.

I remember my parents being all kinds of excited, and the fun preprinted Bob postcard we got in the mail (they filled in the date that it would air), and being a little jealous that my really cool and beautiful aunt and uncle took it all for all the world to see.

Although now that I think about it, if Bob's so big on animal rights, what was with the fur coat?

Not the One With George Clooney

So what, you ask, could be more harrowing than being chased down by a mob of angry parents who would like to kill you, the spokesman, for your client's several transgressions in front of their darling little kiddies and who the hell do you think you are and you are a worthless human being and what are you part of the heinous liberal left and are you going to issue a statement of official apology and holy crap where is the back exit?

That, my friends, would be the event I attended today.

Granted, the crowd was very educated and quite pleasant. And the popsicle dessert, not so bad. But the screaming was horrible, and the fainting episode (mine) pretty much sucked.

My 3-year old's first emergency room visit. 5 stitches on the chin. Pushed into a puppet show at school.

I just hope neither of us ever has to live through that again. I'll take crazed parents who want to punch me in the mouth ANY day of the week over that. In fact, if there are any said parents who would like to come over right now and throw a swing or two just so I can get a bit of a leg up on Karma, well, then that would be just great.

Photo: my fabulous friend X and George at the 2006 WH Correspondents Dinner. Yes, it's been over a year; yes, still jealous as HELL.

Tonight

...started out with a spot of rain and a bit of shopping over at Apres Peau to benefit Labels for Love. A lovely crowd, and Ms. Alster in her Vuitton finest (if you missed her shoe closet in the Post last week, look for the upcoming pictorial of her home in the July issue of Washington Spaces). I in my fancy new Julie Brown party dres from Alex, with my BFF's grandmother's vintage billion-chain Monet necklace. 'Twas lovely to see so many friends from the DSS gang, especially as we start to gear up for the fall event.

Next, over to the Kennedy Center Rooftop (second time in a week--first was the VIP party for the KC speakers series) for the Awesomely Bad Ball to benefit the Forum Theatre. A really diverse crowd--different than the 400 same people you see everywhere, but lots of great friends, too. A good auction, though all items had "Buy It Now" pricing--so you could, for example, stop the bidding if you paid $150 for a $200 Milano gift certificate if you acted quick. Didn't make much sense to me from a fundraising standpoint, but for once I was the guest, not the worker bee!

You cannot fault an event that serves fried chicken, mashed potatoes and spaghetti and meatballs on the buffet. The polar opposite from our fabulous dinner at DC Coast last night (complete with complimentary tasting courses prepared by the chef just for our little table--the perfect end to what was prior to that a harrowing day!), but fantastic nonetheless.

I'm betting that this beat the PANTS off of the fundraising dinner across town. To loosely paraphrase my good friend M, "4,000 of your closest friends crammed into a room, including people bussed in from Iowa who paid a kajillion dollars thinking they were going to sit down and have dinner with the president." Fried chicken on a rainy rooftop beats that hands down any day.

Bad Blogger, Party of One...

Okay. So. A bit of a maelstrom.

Today, I had a group of, oh, about 100 parents of 10 year olds that literally wanted to rip me limb from limb at my alma mater. Seriously. Long story. But limb from limb.

Then there was the boat. From Kazakhstan. That has the vodka. That's not here.

So here. Come tomorrow. I'll be the frazzled one.

Fabulous Washington Hostesses: Marjorie Merriweather Post

Sorry, another crazy week. This event:

....is going to kick serious ass due to its complete and utter fabulousness. Once it's done killing me. (I cannot take credit for its brilliant concept, however).

So.
Random Trait: Serial (and Cereal!) marrier. Actually, untrue, as she was born a cereal barroness. Married the Birds Eye guy, though.

Buy: If you're modern/transitional, Grange furniture. If you're old school, some Faberge.

Read: American Empress by Nancy Rubin Stuart; The Side of a Cereal Box by C. Chocula.

Do: Summer in the Adirondacks (see you there in a few weeks--though our stay is no Topridge!), winter in Palm Beach (though I much prefer Middle Road in downtown PB*); smoke a doobie at Merriweather, since the acoustics pretty much suck anyway (lord knows it's a bazillion times more preferable than evilheinousvulgar Nissan, however); spend the 8 bucks and finally head down to Hillwood.

*My 30th birthday: 15 of my very bestest friends in a 12-bedroom PB house, fully staffed, for the week. Then Christmas: getting COMPLETELY loaded, trapsing across the street, like 10 family members, and belting out Happy Birthday to Jimmy Buffet's window. Loud. And that, kids, was a very good year.

Fabulous Washington Hostesses: Alice Roosevelt Longworth

I'm back! Sorry, life of a publicist: end of the month is a BEAST.

Random trait: Delightfully catty: her famed embroidered pillow said, “If you haven’t anything nice to say, come sit by me.”

Buy: Delightfully catty embroidered pillows (anyone have a source? I could have sworn Artsy Fartsy in Bethesda had them, but nope, and I know somewhere in Middleburg does, but can’t place it.)*

Read: Crowded Hours by Alice Roosevelt Longworth, Caring for Your Pet Snake by Rennay Craats.

Do: Smoke like a chimney and gamble ‘til the sun comes up, all the while wearing your best pearls. Fear no one, be perpetually hilarious, and bury voodoo dolls of those you loathe.

*I think I need some of these for my about-to-be finished lr, so if you know of a source, pls shoot it my way lest I add this to my humongously long and ever-growing list of art projects, which includes sewing my guest room curtains (one down, one to go) and embroidering my own dining room chairs (will never happen, but wouldn't it be cool?).

GO RIGHT NOW

Yoox Sample Sale started this morning. Just scored Balenciaga shorts for $95. Tip: change "Items per page" from 10 to 30 for fastest scanning.

Good luck!