Emmy weekend, Runway loss aside, was actually pretty fun. It's like a populist version of the Oscars.
Bruce was my companion for the weekend, so "Brandy" was out in full force. Saturday was blazing hot and Brandy knew not what to do with ourselves. When you're in LA without a plan, there really is only one plan: Go straight to Fred Segal. We did, and bought various sundries. Bruce almost put down $400 smackers on a diamond-studded belt, but they only had it in brown. Impulse buys at Fred Segal, by the way, only look good in the store. When you get back to NYC (i.e. sanity) you curse the queen that tallked you into sacrificing dental work for, say, a faux fur coat for "men." I speak from experience, by the way.
Brandy drove aimlessly from there and wound up crashing the home of a sitcom superstar, demanded that he provide us with swimtrunks and beers, and instigated a full-on pool party to the bewildered surprise of the jettisoned jokester. Sufficiently entertained, we left to begin the evening with drinks at the intersection of now and now, Jeff Klein's Sunset Tower Hotel, where we joined Bravo Prexy Lauren Zalaznick and Sir Tim Gunn, who was fresh from Emmy Pre-show fashion drill camp. From there we hit NBC's Emmy Nominees party at Spago. Yes, Heidi was there and so was Mariska (and Fertitska) and Mr. T and Kyle XY (isn't he on Disney?) and a slew of NBC stars. (I have no clue why Mr. T was there; he may have gotten the year wrong but it was good to see him.) The highlight for Brandy was kissing the ring of Miss Barbara Eden. She said we made her night. On our way out, we ran smack into Nina Garcia and there were kisses flying everywhere. We all vowed to put a bookmark in our convo and resume at the Entertainment Weekly party across town.
The EW soiree felt like TV's version of the Vanity Fair party, with an assemblage of Kyle XY (again, happily), Matthew Perry, Lauren Holly (wha?), Rebecca from "Work Out," Tina Fey, people from "Lost" and "Greys Anatomy" and every other person on every other show that I don't watch. As Bruce and I chatted with Runway EP Dan Cutforth and his happening ladygal Julie, we noticed that Lindsay Lohan was huddled next to us with a pal. I have no idea why Lohan was there amongst the TV folk, but we felt good about her making a makeshift camp by the dj booth, spinnin' and sidekickin' under a massive two story blowup of EW's current cover featuring Tim and Heidi. I didn't see no blowcaine.
Sir Tim was mobbed all night. For the 20 minutes that I stood with him, the likes of Anthony Michael Hall, Taye Diggs, Dennis Leary, and Amber "Joan of Arcadia" Tamblyn all came to pay their respects. I met another Andy Cohen. This one is a movie producer. There's also an Andy Cohen who is an agent at ICM and another who is a mustachioed spiritual advisor. It's always fun and weird to meet another Andy Cohen. We are both at war and at peace. It felt like a cavalcade of Bravo stars had descended on the party before midnight when I introduced Kathy Griffin to Tim Gunn as Jai Rodriguez looked on. Kathy was so excited to meet him. Jai, by the way, is about to really blow up on the Fox show "Duets" where he will be among a group of celebs paired with massive singing stars singing duets. Kinda like "Dancing with the Stars," but with singing, see?
The next night's Emmys speak for themselves. I was really psyched to meet Seal before the show. He is incredibly handsome and nice. All the Runway kids sat together and I leaned on Nina for fashion commentary throughout the show, which she freely gave. While I was transfixed by Jeremy Piven's hair system (pulleys n' plugs?), Nina was agape and agog at the ascot. It was a good show until Runway lost and we all went to the lobby bar to commiserate. It was there that I spied a cable prexy getting a girl on girl, lip-to-lip kiss from a reality superstar.
And it was there that I witnessed a former pop tart trying to pick up my compainion, and half of Brandy, Bruce. After the show and the Governor's Ball, Brandy split for the HBO party. It was wall-to-wall pink and green carpet and wretchedly perfect excess. There were crickets by the "Big Love" tables and crowds near Gandolfini and I got elbowed by Paris Hilton and we ran into Candy Spelling maybe 18 times in the course of an hour and reconnecting with Michael Patrick King was the highlight of the party. And that was Emmy weekend.