Everyone knows it’s not the friends you make on the way up but the ones you keep on the way down that matter. Recently ex-French Vogue editor Corine Roitfeld ran into a supporter on her way out of her son Vladimir Restoin-Roitfeld’s art exhibition: Vladimir’s ex-girlfriend, supermodel Lily Donaldson. “Thank you so much for the flowers and your note,” the ex-head of French Vogue gushed.
Vivi Nevo, the diminutive media mogul with a penchant for extremely tall women (he once dated Naomi Campbell) was on the prowl in New York for Fashion Week. Not, he claimed, for another supermodel girlfriend but rather to buy some art.
The Observer asked him for his card but the mini-mogul threw up his hands and said, “I have no cards. I went to Davos and came back with a huge stack of cards. I was the only one there at the conference without a card.”
Later, after a long chat to Vladimir, he bounced back to us looking triumphant. “You see, I bought it!” The “it” to which Vivi was referring was one of the bigger hieroglyphic-like works painted by Retna, the LA-based graffiti artist.
The crowd swelled with models, onlookers and people who were artists or imitators. The room became congested and hot. People kept bumping into the sculptures. Representing the ghosts of supermodels past, Frederique van der Wal sipped a cocktail with a handsome stranger. Australian model Jessica Hart and her boyfriend Stravros Niarchos roamed around the room looking bewildered. Amanda Hearst glided into the party with an enormous TV crew in tow. No one appeared to be over 35 and after a while everyone started smoking. Fashion week is off to a roaring start.
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