Early buzz had it that the Y-3 show would take place on ice, and in true Carrie Bradshaw fashion, we had to wonder: Is the company trying to kill its models? Treadmills two seasons ago, a runway slick with water in September… Surely a frozen catwalk would represent a last-ditch attempt to break Jessica Stam’s knees. Luckily for her, the rumors had run wild, and it was merely the walls of the Pier 40 venue that were constructed from blocks of ice. Still, as we watched them melt slowly down onto the already wet runway, we did find ourselves hoping the models had negotiated for hazard pay. Just in case.
Conditions proved equally perilous for the attending celebrities. For one thing, poor, smoking-hot Ioan Gruffudd got assigned a seat thigh-to-thigh on the bleachers with Vincent Gallo, who wore a jaunty fuchsia fedora along with the usual tangle of matted facial hair. He was rather animated with reporters, though, and thrillingly appeared to be holding hands with a brunette we’re pretty sure was Lisa Love from The Hills (okay, and from her real job at Teen Vogue). Except we only ever got a look at three-fourths of her face. And Lisa Love and Vincent Gallo can’t be dating … can they? But it really looked like her. And the people in front of us agreed. Can we all decide, because this would be one of the best rumors ever, that it’s true? That Love and Gallo are dating? Tell everyone.
After much debate over whether this mystery woman was in fact the heroine who spoke for America when she mocked L.C. for choosing that ne’er-do-well Jason over a summer in Paris, we were distracted by the arrival of Justin Theroux. He never once removed his dark hat and glasses, which made him look less like an actor and more like a man who’d just stopped by after fitting someone for a pair of fall 2008 cement shoes. This didn’t bother Genevieve Jones one bit; she sashayed in and perched next to Theroux after posing in front of the ice wall in a completely seasonally inappropriate, short, flowered sundress with bare legs and strappy white sandals. Robert’s daughter Drena De Niro took some snaps with music mogul Damon Dash, who brought along his adorably well-behaved little boy, Lucky, who at the end of the night bid Lupe Fiasco farewell by extending his hand for a solemn handshake. Our wombs pinged.
Then all hell broke loose. Once photographers caught sight of Helena Christensen strutting to her seat and then striking up conversation with Grey’s Anatomy’s Ellen Pompeo and her husband, music producer Chris Ivery, they swarmed and swept up the trio in a grabby, violent, human tidal wave. Simply staying upright was a struggle. Professional shutterbugs had equipment knocked out of their hands, and we got pushed so hard we almost bowled backward over a crouched reporter still trying desperately to get a quote from Gallo. (Can you imagine if we’d landed in his lap?) “Would you please stop pushing, PLEASE,” Ivery rather politely begged the people who were shoving up against his puffy silver jacket. Pompeo, though, never looked overwhelmed. Though we have never heard particularly favorable whispers about her temperament, we have to give credit where credit is due: In this situation, where bitchiness would not only be understood but probably justified, Pompeo remained downright pleasant and even gave a huge smile and greeting to the PR person frantically trying to find her a seat — which he did, next to Gallo, after shuffling a possibly quite grateful Gruffudd off somewhere else.
Indeed, as we were debating where to go to hail a cab, we overheard Gruffudd on his cell phone shouting, “CRAAAAZY.” He might’ve been talking about the venue, the plaid clothes, his own suit that may have been made of velvet, the hungry-for-flesh gleam in Gallo’s eyes, or the mad crush surrounding Pompeo’s arrival. We’ll never know. His ride still hadn’t come by the time we took to taxi-hunting, and we still haven’t forgiven ourselves for not offering him a lift. —The Fug Girls
Browse a slideshow of the Y-3 collection.