It's my party and i'll brag if i want to
I meant to do this the day after my epic bday party, but I was far too ill to function. Good thing I held out, too, because now I have so much more to tell you. Sam and I went back and forth on doing another boat party and, ultimately, decided if it was awesome the first time, it would be awesome again. We have so many more half-famous friends now. The pics would be even more obnoxious. (we’re still waiting on some to be developed). The boat was bigger, better and nicer this time around except it came with nothing so I had to become producer extraordinaire. We needed DJs, a sound system, food, merch, liquor sponsors, beer sponsors, bartenders, the works. I spent like four hours at the restaurant supply store on Canal choosing which plastic jugs would hold the pineapple juice. I chose the wrong ones in the end. It all turned out okay though.
The clouds parted for a gorg sunset as Carly Mark ran across the dock 45 minutes late, her Balenciaga puffer catching wind behind her, carrying a box of gluten-free cereal. We thought we were ready to set sail and ultimately had to lower the gate back down when my lesbian crush and her gf rolled up even later than Ms. Mark. Then we were off.
The notables are too long to list from besties to strangers to secret service. At one point, I caught my friend flirting with a man in a suit and had to pull her away to explain that he was not, in fact, a guest. I was best dressed, obviously, in a vintage YSL corset from the closet of Maryam Nassir Zadeh and silk pants from The Row that I had hemmed to be glorified underwear. A close second was Maya Laner who was sporting butt crack chic and, of course, man-of-the-hour (Sam Coppel) in his sexy little Versace top and Lemaire pumps. We served up spicy pineapple cocktails as made possible by Rosaluna Mezcal (and me handjuicing limes for three hours the day of the party) as well as Clout Devil cosmos featuring Ocean Spray cranberry cocktail. Sunday Beer & Miracle seltzer filled the ice buckets and everyone was fricking grooving. Braden Wells was on beats and Chloe Wise kept threatening to push her Bode boyfriend overboard if he didn’t do a choreographed dance with her. Isabella Lalonde set up a Beepy Bella x Heaven rack in the corner. To my dismay, Sam and Nick Hine were not wearing matching lederhosen and no one tried to kiss me, not even once. Shyan Zakeri party crashed thinking we would use the event as Shy’s Burgers PR, so we made him shave his mustache off. Thistle Brown said the statue of liberty looked bloated and Emma Burke disappeared for the entire party only to resurface hours later in the cargo hold.
The boat docked and the party continued at Capri Social Club where jell-o shots were abundant and Flynn McGarry was using chilled asparagus as a straw. I haven’t even begun to start posting photos, so stay tuned. Sorry if you weren’t invited. It was all time.
If you’ve made it this far, I have more to say. The weekend only got more insane from there, but that’s coming soon.