It was a battle to get through the door for the Raconteurs’ private concert at the Prada Epicenter in Soho (the guest list mysteriously ended at names beginning with “Sa,” which is a problem when your name is Jada Yuan). We finally walked inside only to see Arden Wohl and Gemma Ward already living it up and Anna Wintour and André Leon Talley on their way out.
Within minutes, Eva Mendes was setting the shutterbugs aflutter, followed by French Vogue editor Carine Roitfeld’s daughter, Julia Restoin-Roitfeld, model Jacquetta Wheeler, photographer Sante D’Orazio, actress Paz de la Huerta, Jack White’s baby mama (wife, if you prefer) Karen Elson, Mischa Barton (carrying a Chanel bag—alors!), and Orlando Bloom, who walked in with Lord of the Rings co-star Liv Tyler. (Check out the photos.)
Tyler was wearing a short, flowing, spotted Prada shift—“I thought it was leopard print”—but admitted to feeling a little behind the times. “I’ve noticed a lot of vests and little waistcoats,” she said, before lamenting that she’d miss all of Fashion Week because she was flying out the next morning to promote Givenchy in Spain. “I find [Fashion Week] quite fascinating and really fun because it’s not something I see all the time. But I can handle maybe one show and then I’m like, ‘Ahhh!’—overwhelmed. I’ve maybe been to five shows in my entire life.”
Then it was time for the main attraction, a performance by the Raconteurs in Rem Koolhaas’s undulating wooden pit. Once it’s transformed into a performance area, suddenly the space makes perfect sense—the band plays on the curvy part and the audience stands on the stadium-style steps. Best of all, the gradient is so steep that there’s not a bad view in the house—good thing, since the crowd was entirely made up of big-haired models in heels.
In any case, the Raconteurs rocked the hell out of that place. Socialites Wohl and Genevieve Jones were the first to stand up and get silly. Said Jones, “People were sitting there holding their hands in their laps! Come on! It’s a fucking rock concert!” But as soon as the band started in on “Steady as She Goes,” the whole room was up and dancing. Even White admitted he was having a good time. “This is a lot of fun after all. We weren’t so sure [it would be].”
Sophia Coppola arrived mid-set and pushed her way downstairs; Casey Spooner left, seemingly in a huff, soon after. “The sound was shitty,” he explained. “The key is to stand right next to the soundboard. I moved for better sound—and quicker access to the bar.”
We stayed long after the celebs had gone home, gauchely swilling champagne from mini-bottles of Moët and dancing to a truly joyous mix of “Mickey,” “Get Into the Groove,” and Rihanna’s “SOS,” currently tied with Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” for our personal single of the year.
We leave you with this exchange between Carlos D of Interpol, Spooner, and us.
Us to Carlos D: Wow, nice facial hair. How long have you had it?
Carlos D [mustached]: Maybe a month. Wait. Who are you?
Spooner: This woman changed my life! She put me in the Approval Matrix!
Carlos D: What?
Spooner: The Approval Matrix in New York Magazine.
Carlos D: Oh, I don’t read New York Magazine.
Carlos D: I’m a busy guy.
Spooner: It’s so addictive. They plot out the good and bad things in culture. My friend called me up and was like, “Don’t look, but you’re in the Approval Matrix,” and I was like, “No! What side?” “Brilliant,” thankfully. Hands down the best thing that happened to me this year. Wait. Am I interrupting?
Us: No, I was just asking Carlos here about his facial hair. How would you describe it?
Spooner [to Carlos D]: It’s Colonel Sanders-ish. I’d say Goth Colonel Sanders.
Carlos D: Colonel Sanders! Are you kidding?
Spooner: Uh … Poe? No, it’s not Poe. It’s … Victor Hugo.
Carlos D: Hugo? Nineteenth century. I can live with that.
Us: You should enter that Williamsburg mustache-growing contest.
Carlos D: I really don’t think I can continue talking to you.
— Jada Yuan
Browse party pictures from the Raconteurs show at Prada Epicenter.