Wednesday, May 03, 2006

Costume Drama

If I could conjure an invitation to any glittery social event, easy money is on the Oscars.

Hold your bets, though, because I cultivate a secret obsession for another, pull-out-all-the-fashion-stops party. The Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute benefit gala comes around each spring, and every year I run straight to the fashion pages of the interet and obsessively hit refresh until I develop surfer's finger. I love the clothes, I hate the clothes, I mock John Galliano because that's what he's there for, and click my heels together three times and wish that, next year, someone will send me an invitation, along with a direct line to my fairy godmother's seamstress. My fairy godmother, by the way, is Narciso Rodriguez.

I'll leave you with links to the gals at Go Fug Yourself and the Saving Face snarkiness. I'll keep my commentary brief: I'm pretending Sarah Jessica Parker actually wore Victoria Beckham's dress, just so I can sleep at night. I think Alexander McQueen showed up with the Highland Fling gown an hour before the event and she had no other options. That's the only explanation that works for me.

Next May, look for me in the photos, because I'm wishing really hard for an invitation. I wished really hard for frosted strawberry Pop Tarts and, yesterday, that wish came true, so I'm optimistic.

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