To my absolute horror, while thumbing through my diary, I discovered that I had entirely forgotten to write about the Metropolitan Museum Costume Institute Gala honoring their new show, "King of Fashion," celebrating the work of Paul Poiret, on May 7th! (I suspect that Bucky, who was not allowed to go in the wake of his defense of moi from Andre Leon Talley, hid the diary...it does look slightly chewed.)
But better late than never, say I. And while this might not have the freshness of the dew on the rose (unlike myself), I promise it will be most informative.
For those not in the know (and that included 90% of the guests and possibly Anna Wintour, our hostess), Paul Poiret was the self proclaimed "King of Fashion" prior to World War One, and reigned supreme among couturiers until late in the 1920s. His greatest achievement is thought to be freeing women from corsets, creating sinuous garments that celebrated the female form, rather than squashing it into various unnatural shapes.
Not that it had much influence on most of what the guests were wearing. One walked up the red carpet amidst a swarm of screaming paparazzi, to where huge gilded cages held four peacocks looking quite miserable, amid a hedge of red roses. I wore a self-designed Poiret-inspired frock of red silk, heavily trimmed with red and black bugle beads, and plunging in the back.
Along with darling Anna, Cate Blanchett was our co-hostess. Anna looked quite marvelous in Chanel (she is shown here with some lackey from the Institute), but CATE--the horror! The horror!
It is quite obvious that Cate is taking this clavicle idea too far! (Not to mention the fact that she looks like she might have been snorting some of the peacock poo...one has heard it has quite a buzz.)
My dear, darling friend Andre Leon Talley was there, all hugs and kisses. He has completely forgiven me for having Bucky attack him. Even if it was in self-defense. And I've had to pay mountains of medical bills AND buy Andre a new suit.
We embraced like the long-lost comrades we were, and I bit my tongue rather than say anything about the rather ridiculous long blue cape he was wearing. (My first thought was, that since he was with his protege' Jennifer Hudson, perhaps their arrangement is that one of them has to look ludicrous. But she was absolute perfection in Michael Kors.) My second thought was either Andre is up for the lead in a remake of "Blacula", or he has always secretly wanted to be Sherlock Holmes. But I merely smiled.
More to follow in a subsequent post...my assistant has just informed me that an intern from "Haute Cou-Poor" at FIT is calling, wailing something about misspelling all of the diplomas.
Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the shamefully neglected Wonderdog
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