aaaaagh must post something b/c tonight=salome and i am lucy at the candy factory conveyor belt and Ewa Podles is on the conveyor belt too, help! Sure, yes, it might be argued that there is no real urgency in blogging the fucking opera, but insofar as we have suspended disbelief about that, aaaagh.
No time just now. I will say this though: there were some excellent celebs there (isn't that what opening night is about?) that we didn't see. Parker Posey looking like a million bucks and Faye Dunaway looking like a scrunched up twenty!
More later. There was also music.
[text of Twitters posted by phone last night, for the record...reverse chron order because I don't feel like cutting and pasting that much:
Last minute nico muhly sighting!
Sensational! And now my phone is about to die.
She's touching her face rather too much. A director with a strong negative capability needs to iron that out.
As oscar hoped to be worthy of his blue china, she is rising to the occasion of her galliano.
Capriccio dress and hair a knockout. Those more tuned in than i have roundly dissed the others.
And here is where we knew something had gone very wrong for villazon. And the costume ordeal dawn fatale calls supermanon, everything but the phone booth.
Also the part where some old coot yelled out "sensational!" repeatedly that one year.
This is the part where she annoys the shiv out of me. Sorry, phone is a lexical prude.
Can't shoosh people in a lobby. There goes my hobby. Sorry for rhyme, couldn't see a way around it.
Too cold. Watching from lobby. Not ideal.
Celebs: martha stewart, helen mirren, some models who need a serious bag of french fries, rufus w. bien sur.
The doctor atomic banner is up. One can't help hoping the dowagers will attend the prima dressed as nuclear weapons.]
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6 comments:
Christie Brinkley still looks great.
I have to admit that I am pleased that the Met Gala has once again become something that stars attend and has a lot of glitz and glam associated with it.
It's ironic that the more an event actually BECOMES "elitist" (where the big names and money and glitz is involved vs. being tagged that because it requires some mental processing), the more middle America becomes fascinated and interested in it.
There is something to be said for spectacle, I suppose.
If I can be a bit punctilious for a second about the French language, it's "faute de mieux" with an x at the end.
Thank youx. You can be punctilious about French anytime, as I love the language in my amateurish way, and it may want some protecting from my rough embraces.
AnonSopran: it could be a problem if every night were so fancy, but yeah, for opening night it's just a splash of masochistically enjoyable materialist bullshit.
I was in love with Parker Posey, and that was before I knew she was into opera (albeit with only one eye unimpeded by haircut left to appreciate it). I want to make sweet love to her, and yet I keep getting distracted by the dress of Henry Kissinger's "guest."
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