We couldn’t bring ourselves to actually attend the second round of Fashion Meets Finance. Last year’s party was still too fresh in our minds. Fortunately, somebody made the New York Press’s ace party reporter Matt Harvey go to the thing. He survived and came back with this news: models still want bottles paid for by bankers.
Broke bankers and struggling models mobbed the rooftop of the Empire Hotel last night for the latest instalment of Fashion Meets Finance. A tipsy brunette on crutches was trying to put her Burberry coat on so she could leave, but guys wearing suits sans ties kept jostling her as they moved past. Struggling to anchor herself with the crutches she told me her deal. “I was running to work to get there on time when I fell. It’s not funny!” As the tiny metaphor hobbled away, a bushy-haired suit eyed my black notebook and smiled. “How many numbers you get tonight?” With an obscene bro-wink he added, “I’m just chilling because I’m engaged.”—
The party was billed as a return to the halcyon excesses of 2007, and enough unemployed finance types fished the necessary change from their couch to pony up for a bottle of Absolut. Liz, a 20-something fashionista in a low-cut black cocktail dress, eyed them skeptically and said, “just look at all the douches in those seats. They’re all so broke.” A line-up of seven models was in the DJ booth nodding to anemic dance music. One of them, Sabrina Roberts, a six-foot Afro-Chinese stunner wearing a tiny creme-brulee-coloured dress—told me she wasn’t giving up on finance dudes. “One, they’re more interesting; and two, can you imagine if everyone was in fashion?” I asked her if she had ever thought of dating so-called normal people. She twirled around, took a sip from her champagne flute and asked happily, “How do normal people pay for champagne?”
Did any readers attend this thing? We’d love to hear more about it. Email [email protected]
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