At 4 p.m. on Friday, April 24, rising fashion writer and high-society magnet Derek Blasberg was basking on a bench outside the Mercer hotel. He wore a canary yellow Ralph Lauren wool sweater dotted with white terriers, a red-and-black-checked dress shirt, Earnest Sewn designer jeans and Burberry spats, whose chocolate brown patent leather tips twinkled in the sun. Beside him rested a blue-gray Prada bag made of crocodile skin, containing a black MacBook, from which Mr. Blasberg, who turned 27 earlier in the week, had already issued two posts on his “Blasblog”—a daily style.com diary about the previous evening’s happenings. One was about his pal photographer Doug Friedman’s gallery opening, another noted a minor fashion crisis: two friends arriving at a Chanel dinner wearing the same orange chiffon dress.
“I don’t mind going to those kind of things,” Mr. Blasberg said. “It’s fun for a boy, I think.”
A steely-eyed gal wearing all black clomped by. “Oh, she’s moody!” he observed.
Mr. Blasberg said that the sagging economy had not registered any significant impact on the benefit circuit. New Yorkers for Children was the same as it was last year, as was the Natural History Museum dance, for which Mr. Blasberg is a chair. “You know, there was all this talk that people weren’t going to be able to afford dinner tickets, maybe they’ll do just dancing,” he said. “But girls still wear fancy dresses.”
But, praise God, the whole grotesque era of battling for attention in borrowed dresses at tacky store parties is all but wiped out.
“That whole idea seems decadent now, and senseless and vapid,” Mr. Blasberg said.
On matters such as these, there may be no greater expert.
He had arrived today from the offices of V magazine, where he is senior fashion news and special projects editor.
“Look at you, you’re huge!” he said to a pregnant blonde, Eleanor Ylvisaker, who had stopped to say hello.
“I know, I know,” she said cheerily. Ms. Ylvisaker, a fashion publicist who co-founded Earnest Sewn, was the picture of fitness and health for a woman in her last trimester.
I asked her to tell me why all the fabulous ladies are gaga for Blasblog (Mr. Blasberg hates it when people call him Blasblog).
“Derek is the best,” she said. “He was like huge with the jeans, he would get every single one of his friends to come by and introduce them to the brand. He knows everybody.”
“I’ll see you Thursday,” chirped Mrs. Ylvisaker finally and toddled off. Mr. Blasberg was planning a birthday party for Thursday hosted by the chef and TV food personality Katie Lee Joel.
“I can’t remember how we met,” Ms. Joel said on the phone, “somewhere out in New York, but we’ve really become closer the last few months and I always really enjoy his company and I think he’s the type of person people are just drawn to, so the more I get to know him the more I want to know him.”
She said she’d recently emailed her new friend a picture of herself in a vintage dress and was told it was too Pretty Woman. “And he was right!”
Another friend is Dasha Zhukova, the 28-year-old Russian heiress–slash–fashion designer who is currently dating billionaire Roman Abramovich, and who invited Mr. Blasberg to come check out her museum in Moscow.
“I remember Derek lap-dancing for all the girls,” Ms. Zhukova recalled in an email. “He was honestly a better dancer than any of us. I also remember him arriving at my dad’s house at 4:30 am after he was lost for 2 hours in some dirty cab (because he gave all the girls the chauffeured cars awwwwww!) trying to find the house, and he was still in a good mood!”
She added that Mr. Blasberg was an incredible listener and gave very rational advice.
It’s no secret that “all the girls fight over him as an escort,” said high-ranking social chica Fabiola Beracasa. “We’ll all be going to the same thing so we’ll call Derek, and he’ll be like, ‘Oh, I already going with like Lauren or something.’ And you’re like, ‘Oh, O.K., fine!’ You want to book him in advance. He’s very attentive. He takes care, like a date would, even though he’s not into girls.”
Mr. Blasberg shares an apartment with his longtime boyfriend, Lyle Maltz, and a dachshund called Monster.
We were walking now, up Mercer Street toward Olatz Schnabel’s house; Mr. Blasberg was supposed to interview Olatz Schnabel for Spanish Vogue. He also writes for Russian, Japanese and Chinese Vogue.
“Oh, let’s walk past the cherry blossoms,” he said, as we crossed Bleecker Street. On his actual birthday, April 22, he’d dined at the 21 Club with society swans Byrdie Bell, Claire Bernard and Mr. Maltz, followed by 9 to 5 on Broadway. Dolly Parton was there. “Best birthday ever!” he said, with a laugh.
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