Ever wondered what it was like to attend a fancy-schmancy book party thrown in honor of Sudanese supermodel, Alek Wek? Well, yesterday we decided to crash Wek's downtown bash at Socialista to find out what happens when 300 or so fashion snobs stop being polite…and start getting real ridiculously drunk on Mojitos.

And we weren't the least bit disappointed. While we explored the cramped two-floor event space and downed champagne in a sincere—and selfless!—effort at fitting in, we spied on various washed-up reality stars and ran into our old friend Patrick Huguenin from the NYDN (whom, we're told, "screeched with joy" at Diane von Furstenberg's arrival) as well as the lovely Jennifer Barton (a newbie associate editor for Fashion Week Daily) who shamed/intimidated us with her tres chic accessories such as a "working tape recorder," "ballpoint pen" and "standard reporter's notebook."

Fortunately, we were able to flag down just enough mango margaritas to keep from blowing our cover, and even managed to jot down a few astute observations. Our fuzzy, morning-after recollections, after the jump.

And here they are! In no particular order:

• No one knows how to correctly pronounce the name "Alek Wek."
• No one has actually read Alek Wek's book, as evidenced by awkward questions such as, "Oh, right! You have a new book out, Alek?"* and "Sudan…what's that like?"
• No one eats anything at fashion parties, which explains why no one complains about the lack of hors d'oeuvres being served or says things like "Damn, I just bought this dress yesterday and already there's a giant [hors d'oeuvres] stain on it."
• When your name is Diane von Furstenberg, it is expected that you will show up early, stay for approximately five minutes, and speak to no one except your handlers.
• When your name is Nigel Barker, it is expected that you will show up early, stay until closing, and speak to everyone about what it's like to sleep with some/all of the former contestants on America's Next Top Model to be a "noted fashion photographer."
• No one was excited about receiving Iman's new homeless-person makeup line in the giftbag, which looks good on virtually everyone.
• Conversely, everyone was excited about receiving DVF's new lipstick line, which looks good on virtually no one.
• No one misses Kimora Lee Simmons entrance, presumably because she is (a) two hours late and (b) approximately 8'4.
• No one knows how to correctly pronounce the name of KLS' pretend-boyfriend super-serious lover, "Djimon Hounsou."
• No one is terribly disappointed when it eventually comes time for us to bid Socialista adieu, hop into a shiny yellow taxi and drunkenly stumble up the stairs to our decidedly unfashionable apartment.

Thanks for the memories, Alek!* And, of course, for the open bar.

*Pronounced incorrectly