Ms. Tzarev is a somewhat mysterious figure--she was not in attendance at the opening, as she was traveling the world, as she is, apparently, wont to do. Thailand, we heard, although some guests were certain that the artist was in attendance (she was not), making pointing gestures to that effect.

The rent on the gallery space: $2 million a year for the next 10 years. Tzarev's billionaire-investor son Richard gave a $4 million "loan" to help open it. Some people—snobby people, and art-world insiders looking to protect their brand—call it a vanity gallery, the self-publishing of the art world. After all, Tzarev has already done just that with a coffee-table book of her paintings.

Acting as one's own patron isn't without precedent: "Certainly there are other family-funded galleries in New York," said Reed McMillan, executive business director of the gallery, although he declined to name them. A space in Soho was vaguely alluded to, although he said that family- or self-funded art galleries are not usually "publicly acknowledged."

Ms. Tzarev took up painting 15 years ago, and "always envisioned debuting her work to the public," said Mr. McMillan. "But she was always afraid to, because she thought she wasn't ready. So really it's a labor of love, and we felt that to go alone and just do it was the best way to present her work."

Ms. Tzarev started out as a dressmaker, but made her money with husband Robert Chandler by founding a successful New Zealand luxury department-store chain called Chandler House, where she designed the store's apparel. Eventually, they got out of the business, gave the money to their sons, and moved to Monaco and Thailand. Ms. Tzarev has been traveling, painting, and traveling ever since.

The run-up to the opening began this fall in the form of gigantic billboards instructing the viewer to SEE THE WORLD THROUGH ANA'S EYES; no further explanation. Later, the billboards' text messages were replaced with images of her brightly-splashed paintings. (Tattered remains of one still flutter on a wall next to the Spring Street subway stop on the 6 line.)

So what does the world through Ms. Tzarev's eyes look like? Her large-scale oil-on-linen paintings are from her travels to Africa and Asia. Most are of women, engaged in either tribal celebration, ritual, or as witnesses to devastation. In the darker paintings, the women are grouped in threes, hinting at a tragedy as large-scale and systemic as it is personal. Flowers, landscapes, or birds are also recurring motifs. Everything is brightly colored; some figures are outlined cloisonné-style in black, a technique Gauguin also preferred.

The color can almost undermine the intent of the works at times. In Faces of Sorrow, which depicts the ravages of AIDS in Africa, the shock of fuschia and orange robes distracts from the faces of the women staring listlessly off into the distance.

Ms. Tzarev, who has never had any formal art schooling, sometimes applies the paint straight from the tube. A video showed her, with childlike enthusiasm, finger-painting directly onto the canvas with her pinkie.

In the brutal aftermath that involved lawsuits from one of the men she was involved with, Cutler called the public embarrassment “liberating.” Her story was turned into a novel, also called The Washingtonienne; an HBO pilot is now in the works.

However, of all the things she had to be embarrassed about, “I am so embarrassed about that bar!” Ms. Cutler interjected to her handsome blond husband, who was wearing a pink boutonnière. After their wedding that morning, they’d gone to lunch at Delmonico's. “Shut up, Charles! What are you telling her?”

“He doesn’t know what you should and shouldn’t say in front of reporters,” she added as an aside.

The engagement had been kept quiet until the Washington Post’s Reliable Source column broke the news, proving that some, at least, were still interested in the trajectory of the unapologetic Ms. Cutler. Speaking of, was her new groom aware of Jessica’s storied past? “It came out very soon” after he’d proposed, in Grand Central Station, with a Cartier “Love” bracelet instead of a ring (the bride has a tendency to lose things. “But she didn’t tell me her last name for like, two weeks!” Mr. Rubio said. “She told me she was in Playboy, though.” And yes, he’s read her book.

"Charles, what are you saying?" Cutler called over. "What did he say?"

There was much joking about the wedding night—"You know what to do, right?" one of his buddies asked Mr. Rubio, clapping him on the back. "I'll have to teach him," said Ms. Cutler, with deadpan wit.

The cake was brought out, a fleshtone affair in the shape of a derriere, with "to have and to hold" inscripted across each cheek. Whose idea was the cake, asked the Daily Transom?

"Whose idea do you think it was?" asked the groom with a roll of his eyes.

"Nobody's ass looks like that," said a party guest, surveying the frosted lumps. "They're like Botox-plump."

Why a City Hall wedding, anyway? "We live near there," in the Financial District, Ms. Cutler said, "and we're not religious. I wanted to elope. All of this is his idea. He's the Bridezilla in this situation!" The couple went to City Hall to tie the knot (and fill out the paperwork) that morning.

The waiting room was far from glamorous: upon arrival, the woman in charge promptly took her lunch break. During the wait, Mr. Rubio said, "My Dad went out and got a bag of M&Ms and was passing them around."

"There was a woman in there putting lotion on her feet," added Ms. Cutler. "She was wearing sandals, for some reason, in this weather."

They hadn’t made reservations at the Tribeca Grand. “We flash-mobbed this place,” she said. “They made us buy a bottle.”

How was the HBO adaptation of The Washingtonienne going? "They finished shooting the pilot and are probably editing it now—I mean, I only know what I know from Google Alerts. They won't know until next year if it'll be a series."

What about a new book? "I have lots of ideas, and someone helping me," she said. That someone is author Michael Malice, whose last book was co-authoring Made in America, the New York Times bestselling memoir of Ultimate Fighting Champion (and devout Christian) Matt Hughes. "So if there's anything weird or illegal in there, I'll blame him."

"Jessica actually texted to ask me if I wanted to collaborate on the next book (how 21st Century! It's like we're living in Gossip Girl!)" Mr. Malice told the Daily Transom via e-mail. "The only thing I can say about the book is that it's going to be about spaceships. The process is a very easy one, because what'll happen is, for example, I'll have an idea and she'll take it and top it... That, I think, is the best and truest kind of collaboration."

Mr. Malice also offered his endorsement to the groom: "He is a great, great person."

"My original blog was shut down after less than two weeks," Ms. Cutler said. "So anything that comes out of that, really..."

Outside the hotel, a scrum of paparazzi waited, cameras at the ready. Not for Ms. Cutler, presumably, but for Brooke Shields, who had unwittingly wandered into the wedding party.

His CD will come out next summer. "I call it Fop," he said. "Fashion pop!" Fop it is, then. The fopper was dressed in a red-and-white striped circus jacket.

Jules, the designer behind Bijules, makes headbands and earrings featuring custom-dyed locks and braided strands of human hair; she uses the same colorist for her fushcia, bright orange, and peacock-blue hued hair accessories as musician MIA and rapper Rye Rye. "I was raised by hippies," she said, musing about her spin on the headband's recent popularity. "It's a new way to see hair—adding hair onto hair you already had."

Jules is also trying to get women to wear garter belts this season. "I'm encouraging women to wear lingerie over their clothes," she said. She was wearing a black garter belt with its stocking-fasteners hanging loose over shiny black leggings, with a shredded white off-the-shoulder T-shirt completing the look (and showing off her tattoos).

Past a tower of cupcakes promoting birth control pills and samples of a new high end version of M&M "gems" was Bliss Lau's body jewelry—chains that draped over the neck, arms, and torso. They looked like armor for the female urban warrior. "There's a certain amount of empowerment that comes with it," she said. Still, she insisted that armor was too strong a term. But at least you "can turn a simple shirt into something else—can wear each piece for or five different ways."

We asked the two bearded and bespectacled men behind Sovereign Beck about the latest trends in mens' neckery. What kind of people wore their brightly colored ties, which came in royal blue-and-pink paisley, purple plaid, or a design of white doves against a night-blue sky? "The very fashion-forward people," said William Beck, sporting a pink-and-green tie under his sweater vest. "It's a statement tie. The flashier ties sell better than the more conservative ones."

Their designs, which also featured bow ties (but no skinny ties!) are "more about going out and looking good, not putting on a tie for work." (Especially since there are fewer and fewer people going to work these days!)

On the subject of fashion as armor, ex-Lunachicks rocker and ex-model Theo Kogan was debuting her line of "high-end moisturizing rock and roll lip gloss," called Armour. How did this venture get started? "I just called up my business partner Allison and made it happen."

Another gal making it happen was Jamie Clayton, profiled by The Observer last summer as "The Second Most Beautiful Girl in New York." "I love Armour, it's the only lip gloss I wear," she said. A ringing endorsement! "Me and Theo are friends from way back."

Had Jamie's life perhaps changed since her profile? "Oh, yes! I did Tyra, CBS News... I got noticed everywhere, from Dean & Deluca to the nail salon." She now attends the Sally Johnson acting school.

Some of the Stylista contestants were roaming around, shopping and checking out new designers—as if they didn't already have competition enough under the velvet fist of Elle editor Anne Slowey. In the future, every fashion magazine will have its own corresponding competition-based reality show.

A makeup-free Maggie Rizer, one of the evening's co-hosts, said the event was "all about incorporating young, up and coming artists with fashion—and I love fashion. If you don't support the young ones … Also, it benefits diabetes, which a few people in my family have." Rizer, whose father died of AIDS, is also working on a documentary on the subject, but said the project had been put on hold. "We're in the process of finding another production company."

The Daily Transom wondered if the current move away from conspicuous consumption-socialites finding it fashionable to stretch their salon appointments from every four weeks to every six!—might lead towards a dressing-down trend, but Rizer shot that theory down: "People tend to start dressing more expensively, I think ... People in fashion tend to do the opposite, anyway."

The recession was the unescapable theme of the night—even the ladies in the powder room were atwitter about much of the same: "I'm going to have to sell my shoes!" one said, prompting an anguished "Noooooo!" in reply.

Photographer and flâneur John Norwood was there, like a friendly uncle, eager to talk.

"People will actually start partying harder, but less often," he predicted. "A bartender friend of mine said during the week, it's slower now. But on weekends, it's crazy!" (The working-class ethic of partying reemerges!)

"I have to wonder if the lifestyle we're used to is going to continue. This is my fourth event tonight and it's only, what time is it, 9 o'clock?"

Another reporter remarked that the crowd was rather "pushy" for a benefit—"like a bunch of linebackers." Indeed, the sound of wineglasses breaking would punctuate the rest of the evening. A cater-waiter confirmed that the second-floor ballroom was more crowded than it had ever been.

But wait—there was Ally Hilfiger, daughter of fashion designer Tommy.

"Yes?" the tiny brunette replied brusquely, peering over the rims of her huge black-framed glasses, and stepping back into her heels, which she had kicked off. Her hair was twisted into a messy, intellectual bun.

Of her art, she said, "It's broadened and developed." Her previous paintings featured various iterations on the number eight. "It's very different now—I spent four months by myself painting [in the Caribbean]."

And now? "I'm starting my own collection of women's clothing." Inspired by? "Everything!" she said with a grin. She conceded that the recession was "a very big trend … I watch CNN and listen to NPR all day, every day, while I work. … We need to learn how to adjust, no matter which background we come from. We have to be very loving and supportive to each other during this economic crisis."

Heavily bearded artist Michael M. Koehler had two pieces in the show, both photographs from New Orleans. Speaking of hard times!

"The first wave of photography I saw from New Orleans—it was all these images with no people in them," he said. "I wanted to show that people's day-to-day struggles can be as beautiful as that image of a car up in a tree." One of his works, a 6-foot-high photograph, showed a stoic black man standing inside his post-Katrina house, with the high-water marks somewhere near the ceiling.

The show also included a cheeky work by Thomas McDonnell titled "Caucasians on Clinton Street Chewing Khat," clearly a comment on the street's gentrification.

Young Liam McMullan, in a lime green T-shirt, surveyed the scene from the back of the room. He had just written his first column for Page Six Magazine, a surprisingly funny, dry-humored scenester report. How's the editing process going? "Well, they dilute my snark and replace it with a little bit of douchebag ... but that's O.K."

Towards the end of the evening, it was announced that the benefit had raised over $150,000. As if on cue, another wineglass fell to the floor and shattered.

How were the attendees—all of whom were employed in theater, television, and film—anticipating the downturn affecting the entertainment industry?

"Obama has other matters to attend to," said board member and Desperate Housewives cast member Dana Delany, wearing her trademark black-rimmed glasses and a cranberry party dress. "That's why we have to fund the arts in the private sector."

"It's hard to tell," said Ms. Margulies, who was wearing black silk pants and a matching shell. "You think that everyone will run out for entertainment [during hard times]. TV will do well—because you can watch in your living room. Film might suffer—it's expensive to take a whole family out to the movies, and once you buy popcorn..." (Especially that large-large combo—free refills! Not that we'd know anything about that.)

How did Ms. Margulies spend the historic election night? "I went to a gigantic party. All my friends are politicos. There were two sad Republicans in the room. It was the only time I've ever gloated."

What about theater, which already struggles to put on shows—are we in for fewer new plays and more revivals? "I hope to God it doesn't stop new plays from being developed," said actress Laila Robins. Her ballerina-pink dress offset her icy blonde hair; she stood next to boyfriend Robert Cuccioli, who is currently in a New Jersey production of Conor McPherson's The Seafarer.

"A lot of new musicals are coming in, which is great—we need a lot of singing and dancing and laughing right now," said stage actress and Kissing Jessica Stein co-writer and star Jennifer Westfeldt, wearing a ruffled royal-blue frock with black tights. Meanwhile, Westfeldt's partner, Mad Men's Jon Hamm, hadn't yet arrived—the Daily Transom heard he was still busy filming an episode of 30 Rock.

"There are so many revivals," said Kyra Sedgwick, whose acting training was in theater. Her hair was ironed pin-straight for the occasion. "Can we write something new? I would like to see the great new American musical."

Sedgwick's husband, Kevin Bacon, also got his start in theater. "I was 17 when I moved to New York, and I found my home in Off-Broadway and Off-Off Broadway. [They're] places where things will thrive—I think the recession will help—it'll provoke an interesting response artistically."

Mr. Bacon and Ms. Sedgwick, along with real estater and board member Douglas Harmon, were the evening's honorees, for their longtime commitment to theater.

"I got into acting to become as famous as possible and have sex with hot chicks," Mr. Bacon deadpanned upon receiving the honor.

Former mayor David Dinkins took the stage to present honors to Mr. Harmon, but ended up sharing his hopes and dreams instead: "I have wanted for a very long time to play a judge on Law and Order. Ed Koch was on Law and Order, Bloomberg was on Law and Order, Giuliani was on Law and Order." Dick Wolf, are you listening?

"Bob was of grand generosity, of of the most generous men I ever knew--he gave away so much!" said Darryl Pottorf, Rauschenberg's longtime partner. "[He] came from nothing."

"One night he saw an infomercial about how giving 50 cents a day could help cure leprosy. Bob called up and asked, 'How many people have leprosy?' They said about two million. And he said, 'I'll give you a million then, how's that.'"

Artist Dennis Oppenheimer had what he described as a "mechanical piece" in the auction. He thought the recession might serve as a much-needed correction to the inflated art market: "It's been awfully high--it would be healthy for it to go down a bit. More people could buy the art... The artists who have made money have made quite enough, I'm sure."

Photorealist Chuck Close, who had a portrait of Rauschenberg in the auction, was more worried about the state of philanthropy: "There are so many people falling through the cracks. I remember in the late '60s, I saw my first homeless woman. It was so shocking then, to see a woman on the street. Now, it's whole families." Would the upcoming election change anything? "I think tax cuts for the rich are so ridiculous--what do I need a tax cut for?" Remembering his starving-artist days, he added, "I've been poor."

William Coupon, who has photographed every American president since Nixon, was auctioning off a portrait sitting with him. "I hope people bid," he fretted, before jokingly offering free sittings to the ladies nearby. Certainly he'll be photographing Mr. Obama next, right? "They say it's the longest election cycle ever and I'm happy it'll be over."

Meanwhile, Mr. Pottorf was standing in front of a double-sided "wall piece" that was rolled out on the floor. "This is called the Bridge to Humanity," he said. "Let's walk over it together." He explained the significance of its motifs, which he said was a collaboration between him and Rauschenberg: "Here are Bob's ashes." He pointed to a grey smudge near the bottom. "His actual ashes, so it's like he's with us."

On the other side of the hanging was written, "Privilege can be dangerous, or it can be a gift." Meaning? "It depends what the situation is. I'm not giving that love away too easily--and not for mediocrity." He then took off his thick gold ring, inscribed with "RR," and placed it on the Daily Transom's finger.

"See?" he said, smiling. "I just passed it on."

But it was an unseasonably warm autumn night, the moon was full, the Dow had recovered a historic 936 points the day before--and The Atlantic was super-excited about their new brand.

The re-branding campaign and redesign of the magazine and website had been six months and a $1.5 million campaign budget in the making, with the help of EuroRSCG and Michael Bierut of Pentagram. The result? Serious is hip! Thinking is cool! Headlines from the magazine's last two years were wrought in aggressive neon throughout Chelsea's Exit gallery, looming like Orwellian aphorisms: "THINK AGAIN."

"Smart is exciting, and questioning is profoundly cool and invigorating," said publisher Jay Lauf. "Let's get jazzed about thinking again!" (Well, we have to be jazzed about something these days! And, you know, thinking is free.)

A screening room showed a sleekly-produced film titled the Atlantic.project, (there's where some of that re-branding budget went!) in which the big neon questions were placed about the city. Passers-by were asked everything from "Should Women Settle?" and "Who Will Own Your Next Idea?" (Some answers: "Hopefully me, unless it's on MySpace," and "The Chinese.")

What about the more depressing questions about the future of the industry? Although The Atlantic recently increased its ad prices and rate base, Mr. Lauf said he'd been talking to a lot of clients that evening, many of whom were "retrenching."

"Anyone who says it's not going to be a rough year is lying," said Atlantic Media president Justin Smith. But! "Serious times call for serious brands and serious thinking-and I'd rather be the Atlantic than US Weekly right now." (This from the magazine whose attention-grabbing April cover featured a paparazzi shot of Britney Spears.)

Editor-in-chief James Bennet remained hopeful but self-deprecating: "We like the readers we already have, we just want more of them. We haven't always done a good job of getting [the magazine] in front of people. It's an exciting, perplexing, confounding time. Who knows if we can pull it off!" He waved his hand towards a neon sign that reading WHEN IS EVIL COOL? "But that's what we're hoping to do with all of this."