Texting Through Last Night’s Parties at the Dream, Macao & The Double Seven

In an era of instantaneous non-verbal messaging via super phones I was bombarded with info about this party, or that party, while at other affairs. Waves of people would rush off like surfers trying to catch that next great wave at that other beach. At the jammed BlackBook affair my texts were off the chart with people trying to get in

Person: “WTF I don’t know anybody at the door, who do I ask for ??”

Me: “Look for Joyce, hot Filipino gal with a backless dress. Tell her you’re on my list.”

Person: “WTF, there’s a million people here, can you come down? I don’t have time for this, I got 10 parties that need me! LOL”

Me: “I’m looking at you fool. Turn around and walk straight.”

Person: “I haven’t walked straight since ’95.”

My army of text peeps told me that Double Seven was having a smallish test run and that it was pretty sparse. I asked my text spy to tell me all about it—What was the crowd like? How did it look?

“Jon Lennon is DJing and he says hi. A waitress said it’s only the beginning; it won’t get busy for a while. It was a little busier earlier for some party. A bartender told me they’re not letting people in and some hipster dude is at the door. He seemed nice but I didn’t know him, although you will. The club was dark, black walls and banquettes, with a dark brown leather bar top and some red lights on a wall. The bathrooms were the same as the Dream and The Standard. The staff was nice. Going someplace else, will text you where, TTYL.”

Double Seven will be a hit. It cannot fail. The players involved, the designer involved, and the location are all proven winners. I can’t wait to see it, but after the smoke of burning Fashion Week Louboutin leather clears. I was DJing up a storm, but somewhat uphill, at Macao last night, when a text came in imploring me to get to the “over the top” Last Magazine Party at Madame Wong’s. My texter, Travis Bass, was seemingly screaming at me:

Travis: “It’s one of the best parties for Fashion Week!!!”

Travis: “Last Magazine party has moved to Red Egg 202 Centre Street @ Howard across from Madame Wong’s!!!

Me: “WHY?”

Travis: “Come-going off !!!!”

Me: “I’m DJ-ing at Patrick McMullan and Fahey’s event. Why did the event move?”

Travis: “Madame Wong’s is closed. Red Egg is my new place!!!!”

Me: “Why did it close?”

I got no text message back. I imagined Travis surrounded by beauties with a lamp shade on his head spilling expensive champagne with his eye-glasses askew, but I know no more. The limitations of texting were abundantly clear to me as I tried to decide between an Iggy platter or Verve track. A DJ of note texted me as if a god was taking note:

DJ pal: “How’s it going over there?”

Me: “Great crowd here but I hear the Last Magazine Party is off the hook.”

DJ pal: “Yeah I just heard that too, but it moved.”

Me: “Yeah, I just heard that, why? Oh, btw Iggy or Verve?”

DJ pal: “Don’t know why it moved but I’m heading over—Iggy. Who’s at the door?”

Me: “IDK, I’m in the booth.”

Somewhere out there lies some super computer analyzing everything we say, text, and e-mail. They’re looking for bad guys, not great parties, but I wonder as the computers approach consciousness what they will conclude from all of our babble. BTW there is a term for that quick approaching time when computers become sentient. It’s called the Technological Singularity–think Terminator. Will the computers be envious of us Fashion Weeksters, getting dumber by the cocktail at soirees and galas? Or will they just pity us? Will hordes of invincible Arnold’s “cleanse” us? Well, I guess it won’t be Arnold anymore as we’ve found his weakness. As I readied the next record (Stevie Wonder “Master Blaster”) trapped in a 4 x 5 DJ booth, I pondered all the greener grass as it came spewing through my Droid. As I write this, I realize it’s not as important as it once was to make plans. All I really need to do is keep my phone battery charged and the world will tell me where to go. This column is quite possibly obsolete.

With that in mind, I must note an event that Mark Baker, the James Bond of nightlife, is pushing. Tonight and tomorrow night, a play by Sarah Tuft called 110 Stories will be performed by a mega cast. 100% of the proceeds will benefit the New York Says Thank You Foundation. Of course, the 10th anniversary of the tragedy that changed the world is upon us, and there will be many events and ceremonies to commemorate it. The cast of players involved include Katie Holmes, Samuel L. Jackson, Jeremy Piven, Jamie Lynn Sigler, Kathleen Turner, Ben Vereen, Tony Shalhoub, Noah Emmericjh, Jessica Hecht, Ralph Maccio, Assif Mandvi, Cynthia Nixon, Stephen Baldwin, Mario Cantone, Billy Crudup, Vincent Piazza, Andre Royo, Stelio Savante, Pablo Schreiber, Merritt Wever and Frank Whaley.

Mark sent me this:

“This cause is truly amazing, and 100% of the net proceeds benefit the New York Says Thank You Foundation, who will also be unveiling the National 9/11 Flag as part of the official 10th anniversary at Ground Zero this weekend. I really hope you will join me in the next two nights, and experience this powerful work of art and hope, performed by the most distinguished cast to ever perform in New York. Thanks again for all of your support and consideration.”

Warmest Regards, Mark Baker

I haven’t gotten a “warmest regards” since my second divorce. More information can be gathered 110storiesplay.com. Tickets can be obtained at tickets@110storiesplay.com. No texting during the performance…please

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