Invited to: Maxim magazine's "Hot 100" party at West Hollywood's Moomba restaurant/nightclub.
Current Conditions: "We tossed up all the options," explains Maxim's editor in chief and social mastermind, Keith Blanchard, "and we said, 'Wait. The hottest women in L.A. Let's do that.' " Talk about your no-brainers. Having previously hosted one of the most memorable ragers ever extinguished by the fire marshal (last summer's "Maxim Motel" bash in which police in riot gear cleared a throng of guests out of the Farmer's Daughter motel on Fairfax), the men's mag that dares to show almost everything draws a capacity horde this time but, luckily, no badges. Oglers and ogled alike are pressed elbow-to-bra strap, and the temperature quickly rises into the sweaty digits. Tommy Lee stakes out a corner spot for his entourage, though most guests of note--Rob Schneider, "Driven's" Cristian de la Fuente, ex-Raider Marcus Allen, a Mansonesque Vincent Gallo and all the "Hot" girls--perspire alongside the hoi polloi. Only Prince stands alone in a world so cold--a VIP section with his aggressive bodyguard to keep photogs and fans out.
Around midnight, just as more breathing room opens up, Leonardo and Tobey (that would be DiCaprio and Maguire) arrive, posse in tow, and the merc rises again.
The Forecast: "I'm No. 21, and I'm very flattered," says "That '70s Show" star Laura Prepon. No. 77, Jennifer Giminez, is "really excited to be nominated." (Nominated? This ain't the Oscars, honey.) Not-yet-Maxim girl Brittany Murphy shows up because "I've been sick and haven't left the house all week, and I figured this would be a hysterically primo opportunity to reenter society." Indeed, while most of the better-known 100--including chart-toppers Jessica Alba, Mandy Moore, Beyonce and Kate Hudson--don't show, It-girls-of-tomorrow abound, and the club boils with confidence and optimism. "I'm a Stuff girl," chirps "American Pie II's" Lisa Arturo, who is to appear in the fall issue of Maxim's otherwise indistinguishable brother publication. "Hopefully, next year I'll be a Maxim girl. I have to start with one, then work my way up." You go!
A few of the truly famous perk up an otherwise lukewarm list of hope-to-bes.
Burn, baby, burn. The presence of 20 of an invited Hot 100 makes for one-fifth of a
maximum babe inferno.
Infrequent appearances by sushi and spring roll trays offer little to line the stomach, so the Absolut/Hagen-Dazs chocolate gelato cocktails have to go down solo.