The Transom

Closing the Open A willowy girl in a billowy purple dress put down her bucket of chicken wings and waffle

Closing the Open

A willowy girl in a billowy purple dress put down her bucket of chicken wings and waffle fries to dial a girlfriend. It was early on the evening of Sept. 10, courtside at the U.S. Open.

“Hey, did you see it?” she asked. “Yeah, the baby! I know! It’s got be here.” She stood up to survey the crowd. She could see Heidi Klum and Seal, but their baby was nowhere to be found.

“Oh well, he was here the other night,” she said. Then a drumstick replaced the cell phone.

The girl’s date held half a pair of binoculars to his face and slowly dragged his view across the stands. Two men—boys, really—named Andy and Roger ran around a court with a net between them, chasing after balls.

No one seemed to mind, though. There were real, live celebrities present, after all—even some with babies!

Michael J. Fox sat in front of Ralph Lauren. Ralph Lauren sat in front of Ben Stiller. Each sat next to a blond wife. Mr. Lauren, the former Mr. Lifshitz, was dressed like, well, Ralph Lauren: white lace-up canvas shoes, khakis, navy and yellow rep tie, and blazer. Silver hair, just so.

Ben Stiller, head framed by an open white collar, geekily cupped a complimentary radio to his ear. His hair was surprisingly gray. Mr. Lauren and Mr. Stiller kibitzed between games.

Above them, to their right, sat Jeffrey Epstein consigliore Alan Dershowitz. Up to their left, Donald Trump.

Across the way, a hubby-free Christie Brinkley fussed with her camera. She seemed to be having trouble with the flash and asked her seatmate, tennis queen Chris Everett, for a hand. Her young son supported a boarding-school shag of blond hair.

As Brian Williams roamed the halls sans handlers, drink in hand, comfy in a black sweater, Lyor Cohen—C.E.O. of Warner Music Group, friend of LL Cool J, hero to a generation of suburban Jewish boys—pointed wildly at Tiger Woods, seated across the court. Mr. Woods wore a backwards hat and T-shirt—Nike, but of course. Mr. Cohen continued pointing. He reached for a camera and began clicking away.

By 7:30 p.m., the boys had stopped running around the court. The one who didn’t smile as much was holding a large silver cup above his head. Oh, and Jon Lovitz was there!

—Samuel Jacobs

How Ladies Roll

“It’s my first Betsey Johnson show,” said Katie Lee Joel, 24, young wife of Billy. “And she’s already set the tone with these adorable cupcakes!”

The show Tuesday afternoon was themed after a child’s birthday. Mrs. Joel sat at one of the many cutesy tables—small, round, pink tablecloth, dash of confetti—lining the catwalk. “The cake is my favorite part, so first I have to get through frosting,” she said, explaining the mini-disaster on top of her pastry.

Her friend and tablemate, Beth Ostrosky, better known as Howard Stern’s better half, had nearly scraped her cake clean. “Who doesn’t love cupcakes?” asked Ms. Ostrosky, wiping off a sticky finger. “I used to model,” she said. “You know what the models are doing backstage right now? They’re eating. They’ve got some huge spread back there and they’re all eating.”

Both ladies said their men were at home.

“Fashion is my thing,” said Ms. Ostrosky, who is 34 and currently co-host of the TV show Casino Cinema. “The only fashion shows Howard likes are the ones I give him at home.”

Oo la la! Care to elaborate?

“It’s everything from lingerie to gowns,” she said.

“Men only appreciate clothes when they’re on the floor,” said Mrs. Joel.

—Spencer Morgan

The Tough Questions

This year was Kristen Bell’s first Fashion Week, and she took it like a pro. After the Yigal Azrouël show at Bumble & Bumble Friday afternoon, at least five reporters had lined up in front of the 26-year-old actress. The Transom, as always, brought up the rear. (Hi-o!)

Ms. Bell, who stars on the TV show Veronica Mars, was the only famous face there.

“I’m just taking things slow,” Ms. Bell told a reporter from Teen Vogue, describing her attitude toward her first Fashion Week. “Going to just a couple shows a day—you know, things I like.” There were many questions, from skin care to career. Ms. Bell never let her girlish smile down. A reporter from Elle magazine asked her about the contents of her purse. She opened the peach-colored leather clutch to reveal “just my wallet, my phone, lip gloss, powder and Topstick—just so you know everything stays where it’s supposed to,” she said, and giggled.

Last but not least, it was The Transom’s turn. But what was left to ask?

So you’re sort of a minimalist when it comes to packing a purse, are you?

“Well, on a day-to-day basis, I have a big bag because I spend so little time at home, so there’s always like a power bar and water and usually an extra tank top in case it gets hot or an extra sweat. Yeah, like I keep everything in there. It’s like my security blanket. That, and what I call my blarf.”

Now we were getting somewhere!

Say what now? “It’s not really a blanket and it’s a little too big to be a scarf. I carry it everywhere.”

Of course she had brought her green blarf with her to New York. Her blarf was waiting back in her hotel room, she said.


Cowboy Hats

Sitting on a banquet with a cigarette dangling from her lips, Irina Lazareanu casually swooped up a bottle of Jack Daniels with a long, willowy arm and poured herself a healthy glass. It was very Kate Moss. As it happens, Ms. Lazareanu—who was the center of attention at the Fashion Week Daily kickoff party Wednesday night at Tenjune—had recently returned from spending some quality time with her good friend Ms. Moss. “I went on vacation with Kate—we went to Bali together,” said the 24-year-old model. “We both got these amazing straw hats. And yeah, I’m gonna wear it. I’m personally going to try to bring back the cowboy hat this fall.”

The good thing about fall, she said, is “there is a lot of prints, a lot of color, and a lot of black and white.” Ms. Lazareanu wore a tight-fitting black strapless dress. “I love black and white.”

What else is going on?

“Well, I just finished my single with Sean Lennon,” said Ms. Lazareanu. She was the drummer for the Babyshambles. She said her new single is called “Change Places,” and the album will be called Someplace Along the Way. “It’s folk, 60’s, acoustic guitar, a lot of heart. People say it’s very Nico-ish, I guess.” Ms. Lazareanu’s musical influences include Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen. And Nico.

At the moment, though, Ms. Lazareanu’s mind was all on Fashion Week. “I’m excited. It’s a lot of fun, but it’s a lot of work. It is a job. But at the same time, I’m excited to see all my friends, all my designer friends, and Anna and Oscar de la Renta.”

Stylist Robert Verdi was just nervous with excitement. “Fashion Week is like a big family reunion.” He wore a brightly striped blazer and his trademark shades perched atop his bald dome.

“If Fashion Week is a family reunion, then this party is like the illegitimate rehearsal dinner,” said an already-pooped Mickey Boardman, who had four other parties to attend.


Like Sands Through The Hourglass …

By 2:30 a.m. on Friday, after some time at Marquee—and, according to Page Six, trying and failing to get into the Gramercy Park Hotel—Paris Hilton had given herself over to the smooth beats of Bungalow 8. “She was doing some serious dirty dancing with several different guys,” said a fellow clubgoer, who recalled that Ms. Hilton was wearing a skimpy slip dress. “Judging by her moves, she looked pretty wasted.”

Nearby, swaying like a palm tree in a harsh wind, was Ms. Hilton’s on-again, off-again Greek billion-heir boy toy, Stavros Niarchos. He appeared to be struggling to keep at least one eye on Ms. Hilton’s hip-shaking. The burden soon became too much to bear.

“He started yelling at her, and then she was yelling back at him,” said the source. “He was being controlling and calling her names, and she was telling him to fuck off. Then Amy Sacco got in the middle and was playing mediator.” Despite the proprietress’ efforts, Ms. Hilton and Mr. Niarchos continued their bickering as they stormed out the door.

Late night on Sunday, Ms. Hilton returned to Ms. Sacco’s joint, perhaps determined to put in a more dignified showing. At 3 a.m., she was seen sitting thisclose to rocker-turned-reality-TV-star Travis Barker. He wore a skullcap, and she a hound’s-tooth granny skirt. They spoke into each other’s ears, stared deeply into each other’s eyes. Mr. Barker’s hand diligently caressed her back. Half an hour later, the two were spotted leaving together.


The Transom