Okay, so let me just start by saying how relieved
I was when I pulled up in the Glen to check the place out. No offense
or anything, but usually when you hear the words party in the woods, gypsies, traditional wine and local musicians in the same breath, and the event is publicized with flyers telling people to wear clothes,
the old Bar of Expectations isn’t set very high. But it was nice.
Really. There was a lot of candlelight and flowers, and it reminded me a
little bit of a wedding I went to in Hollywood once when a producer’s
daughter was going through her Renaissance Faire period.
Anyway, people really seemed to be getting into it. Take Thorne for instance. She was totally rocking Cher doing Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves
with her outfit (LOVED the shoes, by the way – if you have to make your
accessories matchy-matchy, at least do it right). Her stylist was
right on the money with that hair. One word of advice, though: Lose the
bells. Plenty of angels getting their wings around these parts already
without that kind of help. Seriously.
A lot of the ladies arriving early seemed to be taking a page from that
same style book. Boho was big in the Glen last night, from a little
patchwork number Saffron had on to every single pret-a-porter floral sundress ever made. There were a few standouts, though. Case in point: Shylah
came in wearing a white couture gown with floral detailing at the hem
that made me think for a minute that I was back in Hollywood, reliving
that wedding (the bride got divorced a year later, and that party was
Goth, so we’ll see what Shylah’s shaking in the Glen come Halloween
before I start singing Déjà vu).
The men were just as bold in their sartorial choices. Who was that masked man? was the question of the night as Bjorn Andrews made
an appearance in leather pants and Jerry Seinfeld’s poofy shirt, with
hair straight out of Braveheart. Some bull dude named Andu was pushing the boundaries of the Wear Clothes
mandate in a loincloth – my first A-ha moment of the night, when I
realized why the flyers specified that bit. Really, no one wants to see
that before they’ve at least hit the three-drink minimum. And some
Svengali-type who my sources tell me is called Langley Taourt showed up late for his prom in a navy tuxedo. Let me repeat that. Navy.
And that was just the opening act!
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