Make Out King

John and Shana and I got to be VIPs last night during Eleni Mandell's show. I had to draw by candle-light because I'd left my clip light at home. Now, I'll grant you that that's not very professional, but look how my show-must-go-on attitude prevailed . . .

Wondering what it was like? She's got plenty of live videos up at YouTube for your perusal and delight . . .

I'm off to Newport for the weekend, dahlink. The big show has arrived; it's finally Chris and Raina's big wedding blow-out. It's like Thanksgiving in June with Mervis's flying in from all over the country.

Not entirely sure how to dress for hanging out on the streets with the blue-bloods, I enlisted Joan Helpern to be my personal stylist. Now, this is the woman who's been known to say, "it doesn't matter what you do as long as you are the best," so I had high hopes. Also, she's a fashion legend. I have to say the results were mixed; I got a great industry lesson and more inside information on the way that styles are realized in the stitch, stitch, stitch of the factories, but sometimes Eliza, a shirt is just a shirt.

Anyway, the shopping was like my life in microcosm. We wandered Fifth Avenue shops and Joan gave me a great education and then I cut loose the next day and did it my own way. I now own a pair of white jeans for the first time in 15 years and I have a pair of those funky J Crew shorts-of-many-pastels. I'll be wearing a tux by Ralph Lauren and underpants by Hanes. I passed on the 350 dollar socks because WHO THE HELL BUYS 350 DOLLAR SOCKS? Besides, Chris says he's walking the aisle sans socks and when in Rome . . .