Paper Magazine Nightlife '09



I am recovering at a glacial pace from last night's Paper magazine Nightlife '09 event at the cavernous M2 in Chelsea. I am wise enough about these things to know that partying at my age at such intensity now comes at a cost. It was a price I was prepared to pay. The things I sacrifice for this blog.

After a 20 minute wait in which the guys behind us kept me and my date hugely entertained with their extrordinarily graphic take on Tiger Woods, we were let in. It was a pretty amazing affair with the usual mix of socialites, trannies, club kids, bohemians and financier types (guess which category that I fall into). My date, Tina, who has never been to a Paper event, marvelled at the social and, quite frankly, sexual diversity of the crowd. The awesome Caroline Torem Craig was the first face I saw upon entry (and who took the pictures featured here), pretty much guaranteeing that it was going to be a swell night.



DJs Cassie and Harley kept things moving with brisk, eclectic beats, everything from Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" to Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind". Ladyfag was ubiquitous. Kelly Bensimon once again made a strong statement by eschewing a bra (is she allergic?):



Jonathan Ames, a presenter and the creator of HBO's Bored to Death, extolled the virtues of marijuana over coke (a point duly noted). Michael Musto was, as usual, operating at maximum fabulosity. Nicky Digital was making a digital chronicle of the night. Paper's editor David Hershkovits, who gave us one of our first breaks in media, mixed and mingled, clearly in his element. Mischa Barton commandeered the photo booth. Josh Madden was out and bout. Corporate types had tables with bottle service. Mr. Mickey killed in his ad lib presentation for the Nightlife Hall of Fame Award. Bonnie Morrison cut to the head of the line -- ohnoshedidnt (oh yes she did). Zandile Blay (see below), who we met at the last Paper event, was over-the-top (why doesn't she have her own tv show?):



The Drums played a vodka-suffused set. Afterwards they were mobbed by attractive but more than slightly drunkie-poo girls as the Band tried to get in their cabs. There were afterparties at Santos, Lit and the Hudson Hotel, but this fearless reporter settled for watching Glee at home on the DVR with the lady.