Madison Powell and Jordan Naftalis at the International Debutante Ball. (McMullan)

Just a few flakes swirled about our toes on Saturday night, but we were nearly blinded by the white inside the Waldorf-Astoria for the 58th Anniversary International Debutante Ball.

Some remain skeptical of such affairs, because, as one gentleman noted at the coat check, it isn’t the ’50s anymore. But this year’s class was impressive. Swanning about in the traditional snow-colored dresses were a chemical engineering major, several accomplished philanthropists and a nationally ranked tennis player, among other offspring of socially prominent families.

When we spotted Olympic swim team doctor Dr. Scott Rodeo, we couldn’t help asking if he’d trust unofficial bachelor of the year Ryan Lochte with his debutante daughter, Sarah. “Absolutely!” was the surprising answer, “Ryan’s a great guy. Have you met him?” We have, and Sarah, we think you could do better. 

The first stop for the 24-karat guests was the receiving line in The Astor Room, where one man with a spectacularly waxed mustache—after suffering blows by several bustles, trains and furs—quipped, “it’s just like prom, isn’t it?!” Forty-seven quick, gloved handshakes later, the guests, in tails and taffeta, were swept to cocktail hour while the debutantes posed for portraits.

Historically, each lady has been escorted by a civilian and a military academy gent in formal uniform, bused in from West Point, the Naval Academy or the Citadel. But this year was different: annoyed partygoers said military lawyers had decided to enforce a long-ignored rule against wearing uniforms to certain types of events. Naval midshipmen rented tuxes, West Pointers sat out the affair altogether, and Citadel students were allowed to wear their uniforms because they’re not directly affiliated with the U.S. military.

“They said the debutante ball is considered a beauty pageant and escort service,” explained one midshipman wearing a tux, as his date, Elizabeth Galbraith, erupted into giggles.

Later in the night, another Naval Academy student, Steve Jaenke, opined that he had to pay $200 to rent a tux in place of his uniform. “But honestly, I’m just glad we came,” he said.

Christine Schott, whose daughter Whitney sported one of the loveliest gowns of the evening, designed by Pippa Middleton favorite Misha Nonoo (Amanda Seyfried wore a shorter version of the dress to the Les Misérables premiere), cleared up the confusion for West Point’s lawyers.

“It’s not at all like a pageant,” she told us. “There’s one moment of the night when they’re up on stage, but otherwise it’s about teaching them networking, etiquette and diplomacy.” Ms. Schott herself came out in the Waldorf’s ballroom, and she hopes her younger daughter will follow suit.

Meanwhile, the civilian escorts were unsure of their duties. It’s hard to find anyone more commitment-phobic than a teenage boy, and the irony of escorting a woman in a white ball gown down an aisle of friends and family was not lost on them. At the cocktail hour, escort Michael Rolla admitted that his debutante girlfriend’s stress about the ceremony had rubbed off on him. Not so for his pal William Pierrepont, who had met his date that night. We asked if he was nervous. “Nope!” he replied and leaned back in his gilded parlor chair.

The escort of the evening was Hon. Iona Murray’s brother, who came in full formal kilt and argyle regalia to walk his sister, the daughter of Viscount and Viscountess Stormont of Scotland. Talk of his charm was whispered throughout the cocktail hour, and when we asked a group of mothers what the buzz was about, one replied, “Have you met the girl from Scotland’s escort? He’s so handsome, and sweet!” No peeking, ladies!

After a dinner of lobster rolls, grilled tournedos of beef and arugula salad with caramelized pears—Dr. Christine Frissora, gastroenterologist and mother of aforementioned debutante Sarah Rodeo, told us that ending a meal with the salad course is ideal for digestion—the ceremony began.

Polite applause and the occasional hoot welcomed each girl, her escort and her military escort. Country by country and state by state, they paraded through the glittering red and green ballroom and up the carpeted staircase, the silver-coated petals in their bouquets trembling as they curtsied in platform heels. Jazzy, state-appropriate entry songs got laughs (“Yankee Doodle Dandy”) and cheers (“Sweet Home Alabama”).

Anticipation for the famed Texas Dip, the dramatic floor-grazing swan-dive curtsy of Texan tradition, reached a near-frenzy when the state was announced, proving that in the event of secession, Texas would have plenty of loyal, low-bowing patriots.

Haley Anderson, whose grandfather Jerry Jones owns the Dallas Cowboys, was up first, and sunk to the ground with grace, rising to a standing ovation. Only one Texan faltered, garnering gasps and oohs from the crowd. But a rapid recovery and one final procession later, the dance party began. And prom-like it was!

Just as one debutante was leaning in to tell us that once one has come out, one should act more “like a lady,” “Gangnam Style” pumped through the speakers, and one deb climbed unceremoniously onto the stage, her escorts in tow, leading the crowd in the horseback-riding pantomime.

By 1:30 a.m., debutantes and their families were just beginning to find their ways to the coat check, and revelers were still unstably gyrating to top 40 hits, their coifs now topped with the multicolored, pom-pommed bucket hats of the renowned Lester Lanin Band. Auspicious debuts indeed.

We've found the 10 "best" listings this year, as well as their estimated price, terms and conditions, and number of bidders. (And if someone wants to get us that meeting with Harvey, we'll take it!)

Don't get on Bret Easton Ellis' bad side ...

– Maybe? Hopefully? Last week, the American Psycho author went on Twitter to vent about Lindsay Lohan missing her ADR (basically, redubbing tracks when the audio was unintelligible) for their upcoming film, The Canyons. He threatened to sic Patrick Bateman on her, which could only end one way:


Meanwhile, BEE isn't answering our emails, and Lindsay hasn't been spotted all weekend. (Though that might be more about her dad calling in the LAPD for an intervention at her place in L.A. on Friday.)

– James Franco is "dating" Ashley Benson from Pretty Little Liars. We give it two weeks till he reveals that their relationship was just a performance art piece he was taping for an upcoming MoMA exhibit.

– Can someone explain to us how Ryan Lochte got a little huffy over Seth MacFarlane's impression of him on SNL, but then did a 30 Rock cameo of himself as a "sex idiot"?

– Joaquin Phoenix makes the best analogies ever. When Interview asked him how it feels to be on the awards circuit for his role in The Master, he responded:

It's a carrot, but it's the worst-tasting carrot I've ever tasted in my whole life. I don't want this carrot.

Ralph Lauren’s richness of an España that is long gone these days was le look du jour in New York.

There is something organized and memorable about the last day of fashion week. Despite the grueling pace, late nights, early mornings and simply divine personalities we endure, there is an orderly sense of energy at the Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein Collection shows. Publicists are graceful and polite, photo check-in is straightforward, seating disasters are delicately avoided and celebs are accessible, or, if not, polite about it.

Such was the case yesterday morning in West Soho when Mr. Lauren held his 80th runway presentation. His front row of stars dressed in his premium line included Jessica Alba, Olivia Wilde and most of the members of the Ralph Lauren Royal Family.

For spring 2013, Mr. Lauren progressed from something South American to ornate looks that were undeniably Catalan and Castilian, with tomato suede jackets, amethyst silk marocaine trousers, cotton ruffle shirting in white and beautiful scarlet dresses. There were black calf woven totes and hats. The styling seemed a bit overwrought, but the majority of this overload was eliminated when the evening wear flowed in.

Incredible brocade and beaded boleros influenced by los toreros of Spain, black double-faced wool jackets and dresses, a stunning, full-length beaded tulle skirt, and scarlet dresses with embroidery and beading. It was wearable and eternally elegant.

Once we had caught our breath from all that beauty, The Observer beelined it to U.S. swimmer Ryan Lochte.

“You’ve been to quite a lot of fashion shows and events this week, what are some of your highlights?” The Observer wanted to know.

“You know what? This right here. I love dressing in Ralph Lauren. It’s just amazing, it fits perfect,” replied Mr. Lochte.

Yes, yes we all love a wardrobe chock full of Ralph Lauren, Mr. Lochte, we’re wearing some ourselves for god's sake! Nevertheless, Mr. Lochte refused to move off-script despite our uninterested posture and facial expresses.

Connor Dwyer and Ryan Lochte

“No other better way to end fashion week with this show,” he continued in his monotone jock voice.

Moving on, we asked the decorated Olympic swimmer if he planned to carry the party on to London, Milan or Paris. He commented that his favorite event was the Us Weekly party.

“Have you got the Fashion Week fever?” we asked. " Will you be going to shows in Paris?"

“You know what? If they asked me to, I’d be more than happy to. I’m getting back into the water next week to train.”

“How has your life changed or your daily regimen after the stardom?” The Observer questioned.

“No it really hasn’t, ’cuz I always have time to find the swimming and workout and change. Nothing has really changed except going to shows all the time,” he huffed, as if it were a chore.

“What would you change about Fashion Week?” we wanted to know, catering to his runway fatigue.

“That there are so many opportunities to see great designers that you can’t really go to everything. You really have to pick and choose.”

Mr. Lochte's all-American sizzle and brawny physique, while a brilliant match for the Ralph Lauren brand, didn’t quite light our fire. Drowning in his pool of mundanity, we elected to approach someone a bit more engaging; we headed toward Vogue’s André Leon Talley, who lingered long after Anna Wintour, Grace Codington, Hamish Bowles, etc. had slithered for the exit of Skylight Studios.

“You looked entranced during the show; what’s so intriguing about him still, even after all these years?” we asked.

“He is a master! This was a tour de force. This show was a virtuoso tour de force,” proclaimed the extravagant editor, replete in his muumuu and couture platinum/gold chain necklace with hanging bone horn. “You can take Spain and you can absolutely sink the theme. The theme never sunk into a disaster because of the details and the workmanship."

Jackpot! Mr. Lochte had sunk our ship, but ATL was keeping us afloat!

“The attitude was modern, but the romance was Spain. But just a hint of it.

Team Vogue, with Mr. Leon Talley on the far left.

"Mr. Lauren is not saying you have to go out of the house in a dress like that. But he’s saying you have to [have a] dash of romanticism in your wardrobe. You have to have that new shoe that looks so marvelous with raffia. Or you just might want to have that perfect double-breasted suit in white.”

Mr. Leon Talley spoke the truth about Mr. Lauren’s heightened excellence in design, construction and materials. “For me it was a couture show. It was like an haute couture show in New York, which is rare.”

Truth be told, we’ll trust ATL for the Fashion Week critique and commentary and keep Mr. Lochte safely at bay underwater.

Harry Brant strikes a pose for the cameras at Emporio Armani's flagship store opening.

Despite that Harry Brant has barely cleared puberty, the social-buzzing, babygay spawn of model Stephanie Seymour and billionaire media/art/real estate tycoon Peter Brant, has a busy schedule that rivals those of Paris Hilton and Olivier Zahm. This past Friday at Emporio Armani’s 601 Madison Avenue boutique opening, we approached the 16-year-old high school sophomore to find why is he out socializing with Roberta Armani, Luigi Tadini, Ms. Hilton, Ricky Martin, Ryan Lochte, artist Rashaad Newsome, Anna dello Russo and Kate Lanphear, when he should probably be cracking those Algebra books.

“What have you been up to today?” we asked.

“I went to Rag & Bone. I liked it,” replied Mr. Brant, smiling profoundly.

“What are you doing at Armani?”

“I’m here for the clothes!”

“Are you going to be at any of the parties later? John Varvatos? Jason Wu?” The Observer prodded.

“Um tomorrow is Carine [Roitfeld]’s party,” he replied.

“So have you started school?” we questioned, suggesting he should be at home studying.

“Yes, today I went to Rag & Bone and then I went on a field trip to the aquarium with my school.”

“How do you balance your social schedule with school?” we asked.

“I mean, I’m pretty much like a modern-day Hannah Montana!” Mr. Brant said.

Does that mean Mr. Brant is living a double life? Is he secretly a world famous pop star? And since when did being a spoiled billionaire socialite boy constitute as a “normal teenage girl?”

Before he could clarify, a chaotic pack led by Cory Kennedy and Ms. Hilton stumbled drunkenly into the fiesta.

The Observer quickly grabbed a few glasses of water and offered them to Ms. Kennedy and her coterie, who more than needed it. Then we were off to rowdier pastures.

Kim Kardashian expected at FNO. (Getty Images)

It's already time for Fashion Week again? How did that happen? And not just Fashion Week, but the one that includes New York's annual Fashion's Night Out event. This evening marks the third-most important night of the year for Anna Wintour (besides the Met gala and whenever the president is in town), and we're looking forward to all the celebrity sightings that are sure to occur. Here are our five best guesses of A-list names to appear tonight.

1. Ryan Lochte: The Olympic swimmer was already spotted last night at the Joseph Abboud menswear show at the New York Public Library ... marking the first and last time you will ever see "Ryan Lochte" and "public library" in the same sentence. We just hope he'll be able to pick up some styling tips and avoid future disasters like this one. (We should have known Mr. Lochte would show up at any event that promised a sighting of Kanye West.)

2. Katie Holmes: The recent hermit is making her first appearances at New York's Fashion Week. Her Holmes + Yang fashion collaboration with stylist Jeanne Yang is getting its first Lincoln Center runway show. In the meantime, she's already shown up at the Style Awards, held last night in the same location, presenting the "Designer of the Year" award to Caroline Herrera, so there's a good chance she'll be sitting front-row at her show. Not to mention that she's just been announced as the face of Bobbi Brown Cosmetics. Looks like life's good after Tom.

3. Sarah Jessica Parker: Now that she's such good friends with Anna Wintour and Oscar de la Renta, how could the star prepare for an upcoming Glee cameo anywhere else?

4. Kim Kardashian: She'll be taking a break from talking about the economy on CNBC to tackle fashion at Lord & Taylor tonight. (She'll be there selling her new perfume, True Reflection.)

5. Pippa Middleton: O.K., it's a long shot, but there's a possibility that Kate's sister will stick around post-birthday/U.S. Open and see all the beautiful people at Fashion Week. Especially since she's having so much fun juggling the men here.

Ryan Lochte

Beloved Olympian of few words Ryan Lochte told New York's The Cut blog that he was preparing for a 30 Rock shoot that's happening... right... now! "I know I have the cameo for 30 Rock in the morning," Mr. Lochte said last night, "and after that, E! And then Live With Kelly. So I’m all over the place."

One of these things is unlike the other two--but then, 30 Rock has historically done fine with celebrities we think of as a bit overexposed. (They made Denise Richards seem, if not "funny" in a traditional sense, at least game, and stuck a pin in guest star Aaron Sorkin's ego.) Besides, how much damage can a rather inarticulate gent do in a brief "cameo"?