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.
