Is it just us, or do the parties this week totally blow? Thankfully, Amber Tamblyn, who is just one whirling dervish of former teen-talks-to-God-dramedy fun, doesn’t appear to know this. We love everything about the 23-year-old Joan of Arcadia alum, from her flirty sense of style to her dry quips answering stupid press questions (Q: “How are you handling the madness of Fashion Week?” A: “Quaaludes. Lots of quaaludes”).
And of course there’s her healthy appetite for the debauched, and her penchant for sweeping into rooms and making declarative statements to no one in particular. “Oh, great! My favorite part of the day!” she said, downing a glass of Champagne in the W Hotel backstage lounge (where we also saw her chug straight bourbon before the Max Azria show: “Maybe I’ll be drunk before I sit down”). “God, I love a bar where you can smoke inside,” she said upon entering the Betsey Johnson’s after-party at 205 Christie. “I’m so tired of the bullshit Fashion Week runways. I’m all about the parties!” We caught her on her way out to ask a bullshit question on what trend she wants to see for fall (“Tights! Tights with swords and machetes on them. I want some machetes, damn it!) then followed her to the Heatherette after-party at Roseland Ballroom, which we had skipped the beginning of — despite a promised show by our all-time favorite band Danity Kane — on the advisement of a friend who said it was going to be a “gong show.” By the time we got there, Danity Kane had long since bled the room’s eardrums and the sad remaining scene — people dancing to “Jesse’s Girl” followed by “Sweet Home Alabama” — looked like the dregs of a high-school prom (that is, if said prom featured at least two grown men in Borat-type thong bathing suits). Tamblyn was nowhere to be found, but we were comforted by the thought that she had gone to find revelry elsewhere. As she says she tells the religious crowd who grew to love her in Joan of Arcadia, “Satan is in my heart, alive and well.” — Jada Yuan