Instagram may have been cluttered with pictures of angry New York storm clouds on Saturday evening, and the tents were no less crowded at Monique Lhuillier’s show. Odette Annable benefited from a particularly majestic piece of scheduling that had her at Lincoln Center for Hervé Léger in the tents during the afternoon and then back for Monique Lhuillier at night, with pretty much the entire crazy storm system coming and going in between. “That is lucky, because there was a full-on tornado going on out there. It’s wild,” she marveled. And it’s even more fortuitous because she was clad in a sleek white dress that would have turned a wee bit pornographic if it had been drenched. Apparently, even Mother Nature respects a girl’s need for privacy.
Though this is her second fashion week, Annable balked at being called a fashionista – “That term freaks me out!” – but based on what we heard her tell a reporter, we think she has this whole thing figured out: pre-show wine, a hair and makeup crew, and loud music. “It’s all about having a good time,” she said. “This whole thing is so dreamy.” She also said it was a blast deciding which of her three Lhuillier options to wear, and credited hubby Dave Annable (from Brothers and Sisters, and the upcoming 666 Park Avenue) with helping her sift through everything: “I showed him a couple looks, and he was like, ‘Okay, go with that one, and that one.’ He was actually helpful.” And also apparently correct, because she looked like a million bucks. That is a valuable commodity in a guy— smart lady.
Annable had a weirdly difficult time getting to her seat, thanks to some foreign journalists who were obsessed with getting her photo holding their talisman. One of them jammed a red and white stuffed devil into her hand and then started snapping her picture, while she confusedly— but politely, and very gamely— posed with it for them. Later, we saw the same group approach Padma Lakshmi with the same request, and Padma seemed even more perplexed— and, frankly, kind of awkward and (beautifully) annoyed about the whole thing. Luckily, a nearby TV reporter gracefully intercepted on her behalf, pretended to need to talk to her, and then smoothly blocked out the Plushie-Pushers. It was so well done that we’re pretty sure she owes him at least a couple of cocktails. He’s going to have to fight for her attention, though. When Padma came out from backstage – all flowery dress and flowing hair and gorgeous Padma-ness – the dude behind us leaned forward. “Who is that?” he wondered. We explained, and he leaned back and shook his head, admiringly. “Padma,” he repeated. “No shit.” Get in line, buddy.