There was a sort of joy in the air at the Proenza Schouler after-party at Beatrice Inn. (And a lot of smoke — even the dubious Romanians who’ve been everywhere this Fashion Week had to take their cat and go home.) The designers had all shown and were drinking merrily. Upstairs, the dance party went on under disco lights till the wee hours of the morning.
Downstairs, Thakoon Panichgul leaned against a pillar, lost in relief. “I’m so glad I can finally have a drink,” he sighed. Jessica Joffe made the rounds, looking gorgeous as usual. Barbara Bush (the eldest twin) mingled, nearly unnoticed. She’d interned for Proenza as a freshman at Yale and was simply part of the team. In fact, she was so unprotected that the broken bathroom door was accidentally opened on her twice while she was peeing.
Bush, who is working for a nonprofit arts-education organization in the city, said she’d skipped seeing shows because she couldn’t get off work. “I thought about calling in sick, but my bosses would figure it out pretty quickly,” she said. “‘Oh, you were sick, were you? I saw your picture. Nice try.’” Besides, “I’ve been to enough fashion shows to know how fun they are,” she said, rolling her eyes ever so slightly. “My first show ever was Heatherette when I was a freshman and Amanda Lepore came out naked, wearing just lipstick. I’m completely spoiled. Every time I see a show now, it’s like, ‘Really? That’s all you’re going to do? You just want me to look at the clothes?’”
As for the Proenza boys, Lazaro Hernandez hung out at the bar with Bush — they appeared very chummy — as Jack McCollough ran around, socializing like conversation was going the way of low-cut jeans. How’d he feel after showing that afternoon? “I’m so tired. I need to get some sleep,” he shouted, running away from us. We do too. — Jada Yuan