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Who doesn’t love Stella McCartney?
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Last Tuesday, the Rotunda at Neiman Marcus was transformed into a jam-packed club to welcome the one and only Stella McCartney as she showcased her fall 2009 collection. I was there surfing the soundwaves of bumpin’ music and cotton candy while stylish San Francisco patrons welcomed the designer.
Models were mixed within the crowd wearing McCartney’s edgy gorgeous garments. They looked pretty. They were tall. They played pool. They hung around us common folk, towering over the crowd.
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It was kind of odd seeing models interact with people. They were out of their regular habitat of a shiny gleaming white runway. It was like they released the beautiful lionesses from the den at the zoo to mingle amongst the regular people.
When McCartney made her grand entrance, the chic mob of partygoers swarmed to the entrance and I managed to do the “hold my camera above my head and snap a picture” maneuver:
Whoa - is that tall dude in the suit givin' someone the stink eye? I think so!
I wasn’t feelin’ as chic that evening. I was in a hurry to get ready and threw on my failsafe H&M pinstripe suit and purple DKNY shirt with a skinny black tie. The crowd was quite packed and full of excitement and I started to feel beads of sweat form on my brow. I was in no position to meet a designer of rockstar proportions. I looked all flustered and sweaty and stressed out. I might as well have had pit stains and bad breath.
Instead, I snacked on the miniature grilled cheese with truffle oil and sipped on Pelligrino while trying to squirm my way through the crowd.
Nonetheless, I did manage to get a captive audience with these fine Stella-loving gentlemen:
And P.S. If you ever dine at the Rotunda in Neiman Marcus, eat their popovers - they are a buttery piece of heaven.
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