Good morning, Tuesday. It's cold and cloudy and gross out. Yup, same as ever. I'm feeling like there must be a beach chair with my name on it somewhere. I need some Vitamin D in a big way.
So happy fashion week eve. Funny story.
I spotted these photos of 90s fashion weeks past and could not help but gasp when I saw this picture of Tupac, holding a bottle of Champagne, at Club Expo back in 1994. No, that's not funny in itself, and RIP Tupac. What's funny about the picture is that bottle of champagne he's holding was meant for me and a few of my friends, and that's the truth.
I remember that night very well (well as well as one can remember a night in the 90s in New York). I was a young babe in the woods and I was out with a group of girl friends. One of them was besties with Michelle Hicks, who at the time was modeling amongst the supers, though her star never quite hitched the way of those other 10K a day babes. She did however, go on to marry Johnny Lee Miller aka the first Mr. Jolie aka Sickboy from Trainspotting and some show that's now on TV that I don't know. Score. He's cute. I think she is a pilates guru now. She had lovely eyes and was a very sweet girl.
Michelle also happened to be friends with one Carre Otis, she of the jilted and very fucked up love affair with none other than Mickey Rourke. At the time Carre was trying to get over Mickey, and that very night they both happened to be at Club Expo, a club where I used to promote parties, and Mickey was out with Tupac, and Carre was hanging out with my crew of ladies. Carre was absolutely stunning but a bit of a shitshow.
Needless to say, many looks and insults and eye rolls were exchanged between Mickey and Carre (DRAMA), which resulted in Tupac buying us all a bottle of champagne and bringing it to our table, which pissed Carre off to no end, but delighted yours truly. We drank that bottle. And then we had a few more. And then I remember one of my friends taking Mickey to some crazy afterhours sex club after hours of champagne and dancing. I'm not sure if Tupac was there. And then I started seeing Mickey out and about with his little chihuahua just about everywhere I went, so much so that I became cool with his bodyguard (yes he had one) and we high fived each other every time we saw each other, which was just about every night. i would see Mickey at every club in the city, in addition to many nights at Nello on the Upper East Side and pretty much all spots in between. Epic.
And that was a night in the 90s, during Fashion Week, early on in my canon of New York life. And you wonder why I never want to leave here. You simply never know what's going to happen. True it would help if I left my house these days, but that's not here nor there. Just wanted to share with you a true New York moment of debauchery and glam and history making, and it happened to me. Look at the rest of the fabulous photos in the Racked story here. I'm glad I was there.
Happy New York Fashion Week, everybody. Let the games begin. Cause that's what's up this bright lights, big city, absolutely flawless moment in time.
Yours in celebrity stories and champagne dreams. You've no doubt got a few of your own, and I've no doubt got a few more. XO