The crowd that gathered at the Guggenheim to catch a glimpse of the Steven Klein-directed commercial for Lady Gaga‘s Fame fragrance—”the first ever black eau de parfum”—were ready for a party. That’s what happens when you host a gala on the last night of New York fashion week, give it a “black-tie masquerade” dress code that required a head accessory for ladies (“mask, hat, tiara, crown, or lobster,” the invite suggested), and promise a performance art piece from mother monster herself.
“Hello, I’m Steven Klein,” said a voice on the loudspeaker. “I hope you have a crazy night.” The photographer’s evocative film for the belladonna, sweet honey drops, saffron, and apricot eau (which does not in fact smell of blood and semen, as Gaga had once promised) was projected onto a gigantic LED screen that hung from the stairwells. As it finished, the image segued into a live-action shot of Gaga, asleep on a couch inside a gigantic reproduction of her perfume’s black oval flacon that was posted up in the middle of the room. And there she lay for a good 30 minutes, asleep, or so she pretended, as partygoers lined up to touch her hand through a slot on the side of the structure.
“I came to show my support for Gaga. I’m a fan and friend,” said Marc Jacobs, who was sporting a bedazzled devil-ear headband. “Stephen Jones made them for my collection a few years ago,” he explained. “We pulled them from the archive this morning.”
When she woke up, Gaga powdered her nose, spritzed on her fragrance, and headed up to the VIP room—where Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton had already decamped. Things did indeed take a turn for the crazy when Gaga returned to her boudoir in a bottle later to get an undercut and a tattoo—a cherub head with wings on the back of her head—that will serve as a permanent reminder of the evening that was. Mementos came via perfume party favors for the rest of us.
Downtown at the new Beatrice Inn, Calvin Klein’s Francisco Costa celebrated his Spring collection with a more low-key affair, but it didn’t lack for star power. Emma Stone, Diane Kruger, and Boardwalk Empire‘s Jack Huston all came to check out the about-to-open boite, which Graydon Carter and co. have remade as a classic chophouse. The only remnant of the smoke-filled hangout that the city closed down in 2009 is the low ceiling in the front bar. In heels, Karlie Kloss had a couple inches of clearance. Amar’e Stoudemire had to duck.