Soho House/Grey Goose Part 5
We’re at the end now. There are several names I can’t get to. The list was just too long, one of the most impressive party turnouts in recent memory. And what exactly makes this impressive? Well, any time Madonna shows up it’s never, ever a bust.
Soho House West Hollywood is situated on the top 2 floors of an office tower on Sunset featuring a wraparound glass terrace and a huge patio with a pond on one end. This is where Madonna ruled. Perched on a stool at the Grey Goose bar, with Guy Oseary never far from her side (he’s hot, by the way), by the time we saw her she had found Zachary Quinto. It was just Madonna, no other women, and the most beautiful men at the party all surrounding her. I swear I could hear her f-cking purring.
The most beautiful among them was Zachary Quinto. And last night Madonna decided that Zachary Quinto would be her pet. Can you imagine how it must be to know that she’s decided you’re worthy? He was probably freaking out inside. On the outside however Zachary played it perfectly. Deferential, yes, but cool. Not fawning. No excessive laughter, smiling very selectively, and totally, totally aware that the entire room had heard her declaration: Zachary Quinto has been invited.
I don’t think I can adequately describe to you the amazingness of the moment. Madonna in a fur collared coat, preening at a harem of gorgeous men who are there to do her bidding, hand picking the ones allowed to stand close to her, rejecting the ones she deemed unworthy, and ultimately settling on a new favourite. We witnessed the coronation of Zachary Quinto. Watching that unfold, Dan, Shinan, and I, we were to ready retire.
Oh they tried, they tried to hide their pouts when Madge grabbed Quinto’s arm and placed him on a stool beside her. There must have been tears, so many tears, when she’d lean in, cover her mouth, and tell him her secrets. And then all of a sudden, they were completely surrounded, a crowd 5 or 6 deep converged around them, Madonna the centre of the hurricane...and everyone came spilling out onto the patio. Like somehow word had gotten round that there was no other place to be.
Even Elton John hopped off his throne and came outside. He’d been firmly ensconced at his dinner table all night, no need to traipse around since everyone was coming to him to pay their respects anyway. Except her. And would you believe, even Elton John had to circle the outside of her storm, not able to penetrate his way through her posse.
Eventually, due to fire code and permits, we were all ushered back inside. M took up a back booth with Oseary, Quinto, and two or three others having weeded out all the other sh-t. She was in a great mood, probably tipsy. We could hear her affected accent floating over to our section on the side terrace. Of course she was doing all the talking. By this point she’d taken off her coat, was wearing a creamy pink satin blouse underneath, and most of her comments were directed at her new pet. He was relaxed, leaning back on a chair, face a flawless combination of bored interest. Seriously, this kid can play. Which is why she was SO intrigued.
You need to know about her face?
I was two feet away from her at the bar. The face in person – and all of us, Shinan, Dan, and I were in consensus – is really not that scary. Or at all. It’s perfect, of course, and unnaturally smooth and flawless, and she was wearing makeup, MAKEUP, but it’s totally not what you normally see in the photos when her cheekbones seem like they’re rising up like a ventriloquist dummy with a caved in mouth. Not sure how to explain this. Because as you know I’ve called her out many times for whatever is filling her out. And under the lights and captured on camera, yeah, of course, that sh-t is f-cked. But curiously enough, it really isn’t all that alarming in person. This could explain everything? Because when you see it in person and it’s not so bad, you wouldn’t think to tell her to cut it down. I guess? I’m not saying she looks 25 and 55 at the same time. I’m saying she looks a decent 40 and totally jacked and butchered. Am I making any sense? I don’t think so. Which is part of the f-ckery. No idea why there’s such a discrepancy between the photos and the real face.
Back to Madge and Quinto...
Madonna doesn’t have to go over and say hello to anybody. They come to her. Harvey Weinstein came to her. So she introduced him immediately to Zachary. They shook hands. Countless others dropped by too. Zachary met them all. This is what happens when you fall into favour with M.
So when it was time to leave, Team Quinto trailed behind Team Madonna, and Dan and I were obsessed with whether or not they were taking the party to her place, and as he passed our table, his face very serious, full concentration, he had his hand over his midsection, as if to settle himself from the realisation of being suddenly anointed Her Madgesty’s Next BFF.
Photos courtesy of Michael Comte and Richard Young/Grey Goose