PARTY BEAT: Art Attack

15 October 2010

“When I wear this piece I am a walking work of art,” said Carine Roitfeld of her Cesar sculptural pendant which, when she gave it to us to hold, weighed almost as much as we reckon she does. “But tonight is all about the art of my son, and I am just a proud mother.”
And Vladimir Restoin-Roitfeld himself had much to be proud of as the exhibition of Nicolas Pol he’d been working on since June opened to great applause. He had been toiling 24/7 at The Dairy space to get the hang on the paintings just so. “Nicolas and I met on a blind date three years ago and the date didn’t go so well but at least something good came out of it!”

The elite art set were out in force to support him, each one more leggy and more swanlike than the last. There was Dasha Zhukova wearing a fairy like confection from Rodarte, and the ever elegant Caroline Sieber, who hugged her jacket around her shoulders as she feared her sparkling Mark Fast dress was just on the reckless side of revealing. “Such a sweet and charming guy,” she said of Mark, “but so racy!”

We had to stop Giovanna Battaglia, darling of the blogosphere and a vision in red Givenchy. Wasn’t she tired after a whole month of fashion parties and endless style? “Ah but Frieze it is different to Fashion Week,” she said, “still the parties but at least I am allowed to go home early!”

Brush-off of the night came from the beautiful, the chiseled, the debonair Mr Tom Ford, who breezed in wearing a suit so sharp we thought we might cut ourselves when we brushed against his arm. When we asked him whether we might take his picture for Grazia Daily he drawled, “it sounds really grand dear but if you don’t mind I think just now I’ll pass.” Be still our beating hearts!

Everyone was enthusing about the art – huge, apocalyptic canvasses with titles like Sick Feathers and Marvellous Ass - ever more as the evening wore on and the vodka on the rocks unleashed peoples’ inner art critics.  Alison Mosshart of The Kills was gazing at one painting so intently that we wondered whether she might be buying. “Oh I would,” she said, “if only my walls were big enough!”

“It’s like Barneys in New York,” quipped Christopher Kane, “they’re so expensive they don’t even have price tags!”
As we made our way out Stephen Jones was just rushing in to the party. “What have I missed?” he thrilled. “There are just so many parties on tonight all over town I’ve had to keep a black cab waiting outside so I can get to each one!”

- Alannah Sparks


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