Tonight the Metropolitan Museum of Art, along with Condé Nast, hosts The Met’s Spring 2012 Costume Institute Gala. Last year’s ball played homage to Alexander McQueen and turned out to be one of the most successful exhibits at The Met—ever. That’s a pretty tough show to follow. It was spectacular, breathtaking and heartbreaking. Long Live McQueen.
Tonight’s gala toasts the living Miuccia Prada and the long deceased fellow Italian, Elsa Schiaparelli, in a show called Impossible Conversations. I look forward to seeing the show when it opens to the public, but before the 99% are allowed in, the 1% fashion elite get their night of celebration.
So today while the fancy people are safely tucked away in their beautiful hotel rooms and penthouses being primped and poofed by their glam squads, readying themselves for their well documented arrival at the steps of the MET, we, the 99% will be making breakfast for our kids, getting them to school, doing some quick grocery shopping or laundry or both, going to work, possibly paying some bills, maybe seeing the dentist or gynecologist, hopefully heading to the gym, getting back into the kitchen for the family dinner and clean-up, making sure homework is done, cleaning out the litter box, and finally, if we can muster the strength, watching a little bit of the boob tube.
Ahhhhh…the life…of the 1%. Talk about an impossible conversation.
But to hell with that. I might not have a ticket for the ball, but what I do have an invite for is a combo Bar/Bat Mitzvah this Saturday. Who needs to be invited into the fashion inside when the outside can be just as fun. In celebration of the dynamic fashion surrealist being honored at the MET, the innovator, Elsa Schiaparelli, I’m thinking of making my own entrance into the aforementioned B’Nai Mitzvah in Los Angeles with a whole lot of Schaiaperelli and a lttle nod of Prada. And if the Pradas I’m wearing get too uncomfortable, I’ll just put one on my head in honor of Elsa herself. I think she’d approve. I just hope they’re serving lobster.