We were far too busy watching the season finale of Nurse Jackie to attend the Council of Fashion Designers of America Awards last night at Lincoln Center. But fictional freelancer Betsey Morgenstern was there taking plenty of notes!
A Sea of FDAs
by Betsey Morgenstern
Hello everyone, and welcome to the Oscars of Fashion. I will be your host, Betsey Morgenstern. The design elite all turned out for the CFDA Awards, where the arbiters of taste in the fashion industry give out trophies to the best and the brightest. Alice Tully Hall at Lincoln Center was decked out in all its grandeur as the celebrities, models, and assorted hangers-on who make money off of clothes showed up for a glamorous affair.
This year Michael Kors was honored for his lifetime achievement in creating the clothes that keep Marshalls in business and being on a television show that is popular with Midwestern women who still use the word "fashionista" without irony. Marc Jacobs won the women's designer of the year award, which is like winning Best Picture at the Oscars. Rag & Bone designers David Neville and Marcus Wainwright were the top menswear designers, which is like winning Best Picture, Musical or Comedy, at the Golden Globes. Alexis Bittar won for best accessories, which is like winning Best Guest Star at the Emmys. In a full-on Asian sweep, the newcomer awards went to Richard Chai, Jason Wu, and Alexander Wang. Model Iman won an award for marrying David Bowie, Christopher Bailey got a trophy for making us all hate the Burberry plaid, and Tonne Goodman, the fashion director at Vogue, also received some recognition for surviving yet another year of Anna Wintour.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Before we get to the actual awards ceremony, we need to talk about the party! Now, as some of you might have heard, I had a little brush with the law last week. Don't worry, everything is OK, but it made me reexamine my life and career a bit. I realized that bad things always happen when I actually interact with the stars and then I end up getting wasted and thrown out of things and never invited back. No more! Last night, I started anew. Instead of actually talking to everyone, I decided I was just going to eavesdrop on their conversations. Here are the wonderful quotes I took away from the evening, in the celebrities own words.
Let's start with the red carpet arrivals.
"Oh my god. I think...I think I have a sequin stuck...down there! What should I do. Don't move your face, Gwynnie. Don't move your face. Just slowly walk away from the step and repeat. It will all be OK."
"Who the hell are you, young lady?"
"I'm Whitney Port."
"What do you do?"
"I design Whitney Eve by Whitney Port for the House of Whitney Eve Port."
"I've never heard of it."
"Oh, well, it's the top selling line at Kohl's!"
The red carpet was boring and full of all these people who actually make the clothes, not the famous people that wear them, so I headed inside to cocktail hour. You know that's my favorite, but still, I'm just reporting, I'm not answering back.
First, I hovered near the Olsen Twins, looking gother than ever.
"Hello," they said in unison. "Would you like to meet Sasha? She just arrived from Russian earlier today. Say hello, Sasha."
"He-lo," she said, obviously not understanding a word of English.
"We are going to sacrifice her later to the dark lord Satan. Bathing in her blood will bring us youth, beauty, and an extra three inches of height. Red rum! Red rum! Red rum!"
"...But that was back when I was on hit NBC show Las Vegas," Molly Sims laughed at her own joke.
"That's funny, Molly," Diane von Furstenberg chuckled. "What a pretty little neck you have, I think that I'm going to bite you and suck out all your blood so that I can continue my eternal life as a fashion vampire."
"Don't smile. Don't fucking smile. They'll kill us if we smile!"
"DVF, you're making me a little uncomfortable. Why are you standing so close to me and breathing on my neck?"
"Don't worry, SJP, I already dined on that silly thing from Las Vegas, I don't need to feed on you. Also, you'd be a tiny, tiny meal."
"Yeah, ya heard!" the man on the left was screaming to a passerby as I walked up to this motley crew.
"He better not step to us, because we will wreck him in full effect," said the man on the right in a lilting lisp.
"We're the BFP—the Bad Fashion Posse—and if you step to us, we will take you down. You will be so over, like yesterday's issue of Women's Wear Daily. Ya heard!"
"Word to your mother."
"Seriously, Zach, no one is going to think that we're dating because we're here together."
"But we're wearing the exact same outfit."
"No we're not! I'm wearing a vest. Seriously, how could anything think that someone in a vest is gay?"
Next we were actually let into the show to watch the awards being given out. Here is what they said.
"Can you believe that MTV canceled my show?"
"No, I can't, Alice Chang."
"It's Alexa Chung, jackass."
"It was only two years ago that my mother was picking out my clothes and now here I am, giving out an award for fashion!"
"Ever since I gave up the race for the Senate, no one has allowed me to stand at a podium. For a Kennedy that is like a plant going without sunlight or my late uncle Teddy going to dinner without three scotches in his belly. Thank you for this opportunity."
"I forgot my sunglasses this evening, and if even one of you makes a crack about my eye makeup, your next job in fashion will be dressing mannequins at the Express in Knollwood Mall in St. Louis Park, Minnesota."
"Hello, my name is Rio, and I dance in the sand."
On my way to the after party, I took a stroll through the press room backstage to see all the winners emerge. Oh, look, there's Iman.
"Hahaha! They'll never call me Grace Jones again!"
"I won womenswear designer of the year."
"I got a lifetime achievement award."
"I have a hot body."
"I have a television show."
"I have a beautiful husband who looks great in a speedo."
"I don't have a giant tattoo of a scene from Poltergeist on my back."
"Well, played, Michael."
I followed the stench of Marlboro Lights and champagne corks to the after party, but most people had gone off to more fabulous events by then. Of course, Rachel Zoe was still skulking around.
"This outfit is bananas, right? It's vintage. I die. I die for it. OK, maybe it's a little too big. Is it too big? Do you like it? You don't like it. It doesn't fit? I'm too skinny? You just shut me down. I thought I was shutting it down in this bananas red carpet moment, but you shut me down. I'm going to go change."
"Oh god, all the famous people are gone. This is worse than the last season of Gilmore Girls."
"I'm still here, Alexis. Don't you remember me. I'm Maggie Grace of television's Lost.
"Hey, look! There's still some famous people here," said the little girl on the end with the Australian accent. "There's Molly Simms from Las Vegas. What, you guys don't love that show? It's like the biggest thing in Australia since Paul Hogan took his dick to America!"
"That's it, I'm leaving," Alexis Bledel said as she stormed out and walked by me. "And maybe you should leave too!"
You're right Alexis, maybe I should.