Friday, September 11, 2009
I very rarely go out back home in Auckland but there's something about the combination of hot summer nights, exciting people and newfound fun bars that keeps getting me out the door here in New York. Last night a group of us - Mark (pictured above), Michael, Brian and three NZ girls Olivia, Amy and Alice - went to my former residence (the Jane Hotel) for a party. The second night I stayed there I came home late and went to walk in but the bouncers were all hardcore with the doorlist until I told them I was staying there. This time I tried the same trick, and told the door guy that I was a guest. He asked me which room. I told him my former room number. He asked me my name. I told him. He pulled out a full hotel guest list and started scanning.
I dropped my nuts (but kept up the bravado as best I could). He stared at the page for a couple of seconds then just waved us all in. I heaved a rather large sigh of relief. Inside was packed with ultimate hipsters, models and middle aged Italian men. And Purple Magazine's Olivier Zahm. I introduced myself and told him we'd met outside the Dior Couture show in June - not technically correct, but I did ask him for directions to the nearest Metro station. What can I say? I'm a fan. He looked at me, shook my hand, then walked away. I'm still a fan.
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