The musical acts at Wednesday night’s Kitchen Gala ran from alt-rock serenades (courtesy of indie darlings the National) to full-on sonic assaults. The Kitchen being the grandpappy of experimental performance spaces, the noise music, sound art, or whatever the kids are calling it these days came with the territory. But even the avant-gardiest of the guests blushed when DJ Olive looped a speech by President Bush with flatulence noises—during dinner. “That was innovative,” Ann Dexter-Jones said afterward. As for her own brood of turntablists, well, they were working harder than ever. “Sam [Ronson] is actually recording an album with JC Chasez, you know, the guy from ‘N Sync,” she said excitedly. The gala’s after-party, although in an adjacent room, drew an entirely different (i.e., younger) crowd. “It’s 9:30 p.m., darling,” said Isaac Mizrahi as he headed for the door. “The after-party is in my bedroom with my dog Harry.” This time around, model Daisy Lowe did the deejaying honors. “I’m not a professional or anything,” shrugged the leggy 19-year-old. “This is just an excuse to play the stuff that I want to hear.”—Evelyn Crowley

Photo: NICK HUNT/PatrickMcMullan.com

I have to admit that initially I was a tad disappointed. Shouldn’t a place called Santa’s Party House have at least one nativity scene? Or a fat man in red velvet or a pine tree or, at the bare minimum, some tinsel? The new downtown club of that name doesn’t have a single Christmas reference—but it turned out that was OK. In fact, after a few minutes it was clear that an evening here would hardly be a Silent Night. On Wednesday, the place was the site of the Earnest Sewn after-party, which was packed with more hipsters than you could snap an intentionally exposed bra strap at. Two nights later V magazine and Hedi Slimane hosted a hoedown with performances by Slimane discoveries Hayes Peebles and Jeff the Brotherhood and DJ sets by downtown legends-in-the-making Dan Colen, Nate Lowman, and Leo Fitzpatrick. And on Saturday, the MisShapes chose the venue to christen their return to nightlife and the launch of their Web site. Saturday night was also the birthday of club icon Sophia Lamar, who was celebrating in a ruffled pink dress. She announced she was her own birthday cake, which begs the question, Did everyone get a piece? (I kid, I kid.) The Lamar crowd, which included Lou Doillon, Joy Bryant, Byrdie Bell, and Olivier Zahm, seemed like a pretty good indication that Santa’s House Party will be a fun place for the guy in red velvet to hang out at in his downtime.—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Derek Blasberg

Vive l’amour: Uma Thurman is engaged, and apparently her ring is huge.

Who knew? Nelson Mandela’s 90th might just be the party of the summer. Where else can you get feuding icons, Naomi Campbell’s nipple, and no threat of Amy Winehouse?

David Beckham professes surprise that he’s a sex symbol. Apparently Posh is the brains in that operation.—Alison Baenen

Photo: Brian Rasic/Rex USA

Blame it on the recession or a general lack of wanting to get dressed up in this heat, but it seems the big birthday blowout is passé. At least such was the general consensus on Thursday, when both Fabiola Beracasa and Proenza Schouler’s Lazaro Hernandez celebrated their birthdays with low-key affairs. Beracasa and a gaggle of girls—including Julia Restoin-Roitfeld, Tallulah Harlech, Genevieve Jones, Diana Hsu, and Arden Wohl (a few boys tagged along, too, such as Beracasa’s boyfriend, Jason Beckman, and the photographer Douglas Friedman)—hightailed it to Six Flags Great Adventure. “At first I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday this year,” Beracasa said. “But this is probably the best birthday party yet. [The ride] El Toro even beats that circus party I had two years ago.” Not suprisingly, this crowd related the rides to fashion shows: Apparently, if you can’t sit in the front row of a roller coaster, it’s all right to sit in the second or third—but no further back than that. Later that evening, at the home of gallerist Amy Greenspon, Lazaro Hernandez celebrated his birthday with a wig dress code. Or so assumed one reveler, who brought a trunk of hair accessories for the likes of Jack McCollough, Melissa Bent, Jen Brill, Hamish Bowles, and Benjamin Cho. By the end of the night, however—polyester having a certain itch quality—most of the artificial hair ended up on the early 20th-century busts that line Greenspon’s modern art-filled Upper West Side pad.—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Derek Blasberg

Alber Elbaz, that cuddly master of the silk dress, certainly drew a crowd for the party for his collaboration with Acne Jeans last night—or maybe that was due to the shirtless hunks in denim short shorts, but we’ll say it was Elbaz. Regardless, there was quite a hubbub outside the Crillon, where more than a hundred people were stranded on the pavement. And we’re not talking your average French party crashers either; some of the biggest names of couture week—including a prince, a famous DJ, a fashion heiress, the daughter of a French cinema icon, and two Paris-based couture-buying sisters—were forced to wait as publicists stamped their feet at the overzealous Crillon security. “They should invent some way to NOT forward Evites,” one peeved invitee said inside the fête. “No party is worth this.” Some would beg to differ, however. Especially when a birthday cake was brought out with sparklers that singed (ever so slightly) the backs of the beefcake boys. Although many thought it was for Elbaz himself—his birthday was just three weeks ago—it turned out the cake was for the birth of his collaboration with Acne Jeans.—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Olivier Borde

After the fashion flock made peace with the fact that last night’s Longchamp party, featuring the Kills in concert, was indeed a store event and not—as some, like Olivier Theyskens, thought—an underground, word-of-mouth-only show, they attempted to accurately label the scene. “I think it’s very nineties here tonight,” said Roland Mouret of the party in the Montmartre district of Paris, organized by Longchamp to celebrate its 60th anniversary. “More late nineties, though, like when Helmut Lang still showed here.” Rachel Zoe argued that his reference was a tad late. “No, this is definitely mid-nineties rave,” she countered. “Look how those people are dancing.” The cultural debate didn’t stop there: Lou Doillon felt it had more of a gothic flair (hence the taxidermied bat in her mane), while zigzag knit heiress Margherita Missoni was just pleased that there were temporary tattoos being handed out. “C’mon, I love bright colors and busy prints,” she said, blotting a fluorescent tattoo onto one shoulder blade. “It’s in my blood.” We’ll be democratic and agree with everyone. Indeed, there were swirls on the walls and the floors reminded more than one person of an acid trip, and there was a certain rave-y quality to the French revelers—but for Alison Mosshart, the female half of the Kills, it was just another hot performance. “This party was good and sweaty,” she said backstage after her concert, where she had two fans aimed at her damp black locks. “But I love playing a fashion gig. It always seem like people are up for a wild night.”—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Courtesy of Longchamp

Paper cover boy Pharrell Williams (that’s him swinging an oversize croc Birkin on this month’s cover) took his time taking the stage at the party the magazine threw in his honor at Santos Party House last night. Although the event was billed to run from 8 to 11 p.m., the hip-hop star didn’t appear until 11:15. Once on, Williams was all business. Though he hasn’t seemed to mind having his picture snapped in the past (a given for anyone who attends a Louis Vuitton fashion show), he steered the crowd back to the music last night. “All right now, kids, turn off all the cameras and put them away,” he said. “And put your hands in the air. Say hell, yeah!” “He’s so cute,” said Paper’s Mickey Boardman, before leaving his handbag with Nigo to take laps around the room. “I love a party.” Pause. “Fine, I love a Paper party.”—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Derek Blasberg

The August issue of Tatler magazine is just now hitting our shores, and its annual Most Invited list is happily satiating the social curiosities of New York’s considerable number of Anglophiles. While more than one party-loving person has maneuvered to get higher on the list, we met up with one well-connected young woman in London who was not disappointed to see her ranking fall from the single digits all the way to number 94: Camilla Al Fayed. “Where have you gone, Camills?” the entry asks. “Come back, we need
you. At the very least for your short skirts.” To answer the first question, the Harrods heiress has been keeping a much lower profile and steering clear of the party scene, including events like the haute couture and her friends Elton John and David Furnish’s annual White Tie and Tiara ball. (According to many, this is a good thing, as there was more than one Paris Hilton comparison in the works, which isn’t really appropriate—the Paris Ritz, which Al Fayed’s family owns, ain’t quite a Hilton, people.) Instead, she’s
been spending some time in Los Angeles scoping out spaces for some possible retail ventures and getting more involved with the family business, an undertaking that has no doubt pleased the Al Fayed clan. “It can be very easy to become just another party girl, especially in this town,” she told us. “But that is not what I want to be.”—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Greg Kessler

With the seemingly never-ending and rapidly expanding Resort collections wrapping up last week and the Spring 2009 collections just around the corner, how could anyone deal with another fashion week, you ask? Well, that’s exactly what those covering the swim market (or those looking for an excuse for a weekend in Miami) spent the last few days doing. Things got under way on Thursday night, with May Andersen opening the Diesel swim show. The following evening, Caroline Winberg flew into town for one night only to fête Ocean Drive magazine (she’s on the cover) at its party on the roof of the Delano Hotel. “I was trying really hard to be sexy,” she told us of the cover shoot, before revealing the rest of her summer plans: a tour of Europe and then a vacay in Costa Rica. Oh, to be a Swedish supermodel. Saturday night was swim’s busiest, with parties for La Perla’s Mare swim line at the recently opened Gansevoort Hotel, a party for Chloé’s swim collection at the Setai Hotel, and some bash that Helena Christensen was hosting (we didn’t make it—so many parties, so little time). Gabrielle Union was the big draw at the La Perla party, though she didn’t drop by just for the cocktails—she had a plan: “I love this stuff. I’m gonna send my man into the store immediately to shop for me,” she told us before heading off to dinner on a friend’s boat.—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Derek Blasberg

The word on the store party circuit is that tonight’s Fendi’s retail reopening is going to be big. Big, we tell you! We have it on good intelligence that Jessica Alba, Sofia Coppola, Kanye West, Claudia Schiffer, Dita Von Teese, Jade Jagger, and Milla Jovovich have all agreed to attend the party hosted by Bernard Arnault, Karl Lagerfeld, Silvia Venturini Fendi, and Michael Burke. And the showstopper? Amy Winehouse has promised to take the stage and perform at 10:30 p.m. (there’s also a rumor she’s going to take her act to Louis Vuitton—for a $1 million fee). This wouldn’t be the first time Lagerfeld has professed his love for the beehived singer—his Chanel pre-fall show in London in December drew on her disheveled brand of glamour. But as we all know, Winehouse isn’t the most reliable woman in pop, and not many people are counting on her showing up. Here’s hoping.—Derek Blasberg

Photo: Beretta/Sims/Rex USA