The Marc Jacobs after-party apparently started well before the gargantuan crowd made its way to Eugene. During our half-hour mosey out of the Armory, Seth Meyers tugged on our elbow and pointed down. “What is a pair of underwear doing on the ground?” We never found out. But if you lost a leopard-print thong last night, you know where to look.
Continuing the trend of celebrities who wait in line (we, less cynical than our Fug sisters, think it’s because they don’t want to presume that people know who they are) was Kim Gordon, a dear friend of Mr. Jacobs. At 10:20 p.m., she came to the ropes, saw the bedlam, got yelled at by a guard, and obediently retreated into the line. Standing on her toes and looking around, she told her friends, “This may not be worth it. It might be too crowded.” Fortunately, she was soon ushered inside. Meanwhile, Yvan Rodic, a.k.a. Face Hunter a.k.a. the tall French dude you see at every party wearing black-framed glass without lenses, marched right up to the ropes, which immediately parted.
Inside, no one was taking off his coat and scarf. Yvonne Force Villareal, swathed in black wool, walked in with John Currin and Rachel Feinstein and cried, “Good glory of God! Heat lamps!” Seth Meyers and Justin Theroux left as soon as they came. At first, we didn’t know how long we could stand the crowds. “This room is full of cranky people!” said one guest. “Why didn’t we just bring our own liquor?” asked another, standing in what would be a half-hour line at the bar. But the music just kept getting better and better, and the crowd warmer and more friendly, and when we stopped being so obsessed with the presence of random eggs in the room, we discovered that even we were having a good time. “I like it here. I like the vibe,” said Michelle Rodriguez, chilling in her seat with her ankle bracelet. We mentioned the cranky-people comment. “Well,” she said, “whoever said that is probably just a cranky person.” — Jada Yuan