Being Bee’s Bitch
Some things you have to see to believe.
Lara and I lost our sh*t last year over Bee Schaeffer and Anna Wintour only to get completely undressed by the divine Ms W. This year it was a different story.
Bee was wearing this over-the-top Nina Ricci. She had wanted it to be green a la Poison Ivy but Olivier Theyskens was feeling more purple. You don’t argue with Olivier. So she renamed her gown Poison Iris. Clever.
It was so massive, so ridiculous, so unbelievably LARGE that she required two personal attendants to follow her up every step just to make sure the train sat properly for photographs and for stumble prevention. By the time she got to me, she was already exhausted.
But you wouldn’t believe who was assigned the task of managing her skirt.
None other than Andre Leon Talley! ALT who had his own personalised director’s chair at the Oscars last year and ordered people around all day… ALT was a minion last night!
Anna Wintour’s right hand had to be Bee’s bitch! Can you imagine? There’s that great big buffoon, following Anna’s daughter carefully up the steps, arranging and fluffing every 30 seconds while Anna stood there and put him in his place in front of fashion’s highest and mightiest and on camera.
I now have a new happy place to go along with John Mayer peeing on Jennifer Aniston.
As for Anna…
Again with the esoteric – no one else would have worn this dress. But on occasion and on fit, on construction and on design, it was a true original. It was sublime.
Remember. The theme was superheroes. It was HER f&cking party. Did you expect to her put on what anyone else would have put on? Absolutely not. Anna Wintour is the editor in chief of Vogue. She’s been thinner longer than most of us have been alive.
What did you expect???
It was a one of a kind Chanel by Karl Lagerfeld. It had pockets tucked in beside the horns on her hips, and she strutted down that carpet with her hands perfectly placed inside giving Victoria Beckham a clinic on how to pose like you were born with the gift.
Did you know that Anna Wintour can pose? She poses like she couldn’t be bothered which of course is when it looks the best. And then she actually felt like talking.
So when she walked by I was like… Ms Wintour!
Oh but did she love being called Ms Wintour! We had the perfunctory conversation about her dress and I asked the perfunctory question about her superpower. And this is when she became THE Anna Wintour.
Storm! she spat at me.
I would be Storm! To keep the rain away from my party!
And with that, she told me with her eyes that she was finished with me. That I had wasted enough of her time. I was so grateful I almost wept.
Photos from Splash and Wenn