"Darling, you look like you're reprising Madonna's look from her 'Music' phase," Kelly Cutrone, head of the PR firm People's Revolution, says to me as I enter the backstage area of The Tent. "But you need to lose the Manolos and get into a pair of Manuel's cowboy boots!" I've arrived to take a before-show sneak peak at the premiere ready-to-wear collection from Manuel Cuevas, the legendary, Nashville-based costume designer who has dressed Elvis Presley, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, and the Rolling Stones, to name just a few. I'm wearing a white cowboy hat, a matching marabou stole, gold lame jeans and a Texas Lone Star T-shirt. Underneath I have on my Warner's style #1046 bra--which I'm happy to report, is back by popular demand--and my Ginch Gonch Jolly Cocks Long Johns (it's cold outside). As I start to feel that maybe I've overdone the cowgirl look, a criminally handsome male model waltzes by wearing a rhinestone-encrusted jacket decorated with symbols of horseshoes and giant map of Texas. Still in a state of undress, he's wearing only a pair of Calvin Klein 365 hip briefs on the bottom. A gaggle of girls rush toward their dressing stations, champagne glasses held aloft, clad in nothing but the latest bra and panty styles from DKNY.
"I see you received the underwear samples I messengered over to you," I tell Kelly. "Looking at all these models is making me want to skip lunch--for the next five years." Kelly grabs my arm and whips me across the crowded room, navigating past a battallion of hair and makeup artists and some important looking people in suits and cowboy hats. She introduces me to a short woman in a neck brace who is helping herself to some of the catered doughnuts. "Hilary, have you met Lily? Lily is an amazing publicist and has a lot of great underwear and fashion clients."
"I think we met at the Agent Provocateur event Kelly did in LA last year," Hilary--who is a fashion reporter from London--tells me. "You know, the party where I tripped over Nicky Hilton's toy poodle and sprained my wrist."
"Oh, I seem to remember you wearing a fur sling at Azzedine's party in Paris that season," I reply. "That was when Dan Matthews from PETA was ousted for threatening you."
"Oh, that was a different sprain," the accident-prone scribe informs me. "And in case you're wondering why I'm wearing this neck brace, it's because I'm still recovering from my mishap at the Diane Von Furstenberg show last season, when the lights fell on top of me."
"The hazzards of sitting in the front row," I say, trying to cheer her up. "Let's hope you don't get crushed by a falling rhinestone ten-gallon hat at this show!" Kelly returns and tells us to go out and take our seats as the show will be starting shortly. As I head for my front row set, I run into one of the producers of the show, famed club doorman Thomas Onorato. "Lily! Lulu is waiting for you in row D1," he tells me as he gives me a double fashion air kiss. "LOVE the M look!"
"It's about time you got here," Lulu groans, as I plop down into the seat next to her. "Lauren Ezersky kept trying to sit next to me so she could shake me down for some free handbags."
"Oh god, don't get me started," I reply. "I did an event for Olga last month, and she emptied out all the gift bags before half the guests arrived. There were dozens of pairs of panties spilling out of the pockets of her Oscar de La Renta coat!"
Our bitching is suddenly interrupted by Mick Jagger's loud yelps--as "Sympathy for the Devil" begins booming through the tent's soundsystem, Manuel's mannequins begin strutting their stuff down the runway. "Oh, this is very 'Michael Kors and Carolina Herrera vacationing on Brokeback Mountain'," Lulu trills. "I love it! And I must have that python dress!"
After the show, Lulu and I retire to our usual table at Bette. "Could you please take that hat off?" Lulu implores me. "You're embarrassing me."
"No champagne for you today, missy," I admonish her. "You have more important things to worry about beside my look du jour--are those 'woolly mammoth' handbags ready yet? The event is only 10 days away and I've already rented the circus elephant to entertain the guests. I'll expect you at the space the night before, helping me glue the 'mammoth fur' on him."
"PETA will love that," she replies. "Just make sure Hilary Alexander is nowhere near that elephant or you'll have to ask Diane Von Furstenberg for her lawyer's phone number the next morning."
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