What an insane NYC weekend. Saturday I braved blistering wind to catch the Robert Wilson video installation at Phillips on 15th street. The blowaway exhibit features the Brad Pitt-in-boxers-getting-rained on piece that Vanity Fair threw on its cover a couple months ago. Even without the Pitt-ness, the exhibit was mindblowing, and that's saying something! Check it out.
That night I saw "At Least It's Pink" - an incredibly filthy and amazing off Broadway one woman show starring Bridget Everett. It was co-written and directed by (and brains behind "Sex and the City") the genius Michael Patrick King. Everett sings about every last thing, like taking it up the bum (in a song called, I believe "Can Hole")...... There are gut-busting laughs, black humor fit especially for the jaded nasty citizens of the world, and an amazing shout out to Project Runway.
After the show, we shivered over to the Palm, slammed some steaks, and then 30-below'd it over to 30 Rockefeller Plaza to see Drew Barrymore host "Saturday Night Live". Though Bravo's offices are on the same floor as their studio, I'd never been to an SNL taping. It is something very cool to see, though we ducked out several times to do shots of whiskey in my office down the hall at Bravo. It was all very professional.
Sunday I headed to Bryant Park for the DVF fashion show, which has become something of a Super Bowl tradition for me. I walked into the show and smack dab into an Olsen Twin, and then Tim Gunn. It is always pleasant to run into Sir Tim. The show itself was 12 minutes of a whole new pallette DVF.
Why can't it always be a fashion show, Daddy?