Another Sedate, Quadruple-Bash L.A. Weeknight
Tuesday was one of those nights that makes me wonder if L.A.’s party planners ever bother to compare notes. Determined to hit four parties, I resolved to spend no more than a half hour at each.
First stop: Vogue’s event at the boutique Zegna Sport, the offshoot of chi-chi Italian suit maker Ermenegildo Zegna.
The party, a “Salute to L.A.’s Fitness Industry,” brought in bods like Scott Cole (who starred in the “Abs of Steel” videos), Crunch Gym director Kendell Hogan and Johnny G, who is credited with inventing spinning. (Thanks G, from the bottom of my calloused buns.)
My eyes fixed on a pair of robin’s-egg-blue nubuck slides, and I imagined how they would look on my feet. If only Zegna made women’s clothes. . . .
Fashion director Djordie Stefanovic didn’t seem favorably disposed to my suggestion that Zegna Sport make women’s clothing, but he did say smaller sizes would be added to the line later on.
Vogue’s week of private parties at Beverly Hills boutiques (cash cows for the ad-heavy magazine) will culminate Sunday in the closing of Rodeo Drive at 11:30 a.m. for the “world’s largest tai-chi class,” followed by a day of fashion shows, free and open to the public.
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Next stop: Spago, where a very different crowd invited by Marvin and Barbara Davis gathered to fete Sidney Poitier and his new autobiography, “The Measure of a Man” (Harper Collins, $26).
Poitier was among friends, and everyone just gushed praise for the actor.
“He treats everyone graciously, whether it’s the bellman or some guy who stops him on the street,” said Reveta Bowers, head of the Center for Early Education. (Both she and Poitier sit on Disney’s board of directors.)
“If you want the right thing done, ask Sidney,” said Barbara Davis.
Angela Bassett was humbled too. Alluding to his role as a trailblazer for African American actors, she said: “In some small way he opened the eyes of Hollywood. The world was black and white, and he added color.”
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The new W Hotel, on the site of the former Westwood Marquis, is awash in carefully calculated hip. Take the books tossed casually on side tables: “Jack and Bobby,” Hugh Hefner’s “A Century of Sex,” a compilation of New Yorker cartoons and a tome of William Wegman photographs. Preferred reading for trendoids.
But the books were lost in the party’s sprawl. Patio after patio, room after room of “nuevo Latino” cocktails, dancers and finger food. Chateau Marmont’s bald doormanwoman Constance was sashaying around with a Carmen Miranda-esque feather headdress as cigarette girls passed out free smokes.
W’s poolside could become SkyBar West, though Westwood’s skyline doesn’t hold a candle to the lights below Sunset.
Tons of celebs had been promised by party planners, including Leonardo DiCaprio (presumably he was too busy with his new career as an ABC news correspondent). The only famous faces I spotted were Scott Baio and some actress from “Airplane.”
Then again, my celeb vision was waning. Too much revelry. I half-considered sneaking upstairs to a suite, locking the door behind me and taking a snooze on a stark white bed. Alas, the night wasn’t over yet. . . .
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Last stop: Launch for a lifestyle Web site called iFuse.com (https://www.ifuse.com). At Bauhaus on La Brea, the valet parking was clogged, the fire marshalls were putting a damper on things, and not even a Red Bull energy drink could revive me.
The site is aimed at Generation Y and will be updated daily with celebrity and extreme sports news. Its lofty mission statement promises to liberate “youth culture from the clutches of mediocrity.”
The scene was interesting enough, but I was partied out. Snagging one last veggie kabob, I wound my way through a crowd of “long and talls” (a friend’s term for Hollywood model types) and called it a night.
The party was still going strong, but I figured I could always read about it on iFuse, where the event will surely be touted as the hottest bash of the night.
Booth Moore can be reached at booth.moore@latimes.com.
