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All I really wanted for my birthday was to get to celebrate it inNew York City with my Tribe of lovelies! What I got was a kinda 24 hour-long extravaganza of drinks, eats, flirts, candles, wishes, pictures, giggles and my girls! It was bliss!
The birthday really kicked off right at midnight Wednesday, when Celest ordered champagne from the charming and chatty Alejandro, bartender of distinction at the new E. Village winebar, Solex. We’d been there for a couple hours, catching up on my recent travels, our families’ peculiar holiday crazinesses and the updates on traumatic news (like any extreme happiness of the ex-loves we keep on our radars.) So, as the bell tolled, ringing in my special day, I was happily sitting out the 5-below wind chill with my raven-haired, wise goddess, the cozy glamour of a flute of bubbles and a steaming potpie of stewed veal, carrots and potatoes. A couple prompt texts, a 12am-on-the-nose call from a current crush and a plate of warm, powdered sugar-dusted madeleines (yum!) made for delicious beginnings to the birthday festivities!
24 hours later, it was Celest and me again, this time sloppily drinking shots of Citron and limejuice, dancing around the bar at Kush Lounge to some nostalgia-producing hip-hop (“So college!” we screamed with each new tune); we were being chatted up by another cutie bartender. I was well drunk by the time Dino, the door guy who smoked a peach-flavored hookah with me at the bar at around 4am, graciously offered to run us home, Celest to the East Village, me to 5th Ave. and Washington Square, before driving all the way out to Astoria (“born and raised, Darlin’”). He had that rare Italian gentleman thing goin’ on. And thank God (!) since I was a little too “happy happy” from all the birthday drinks!
But before that debaucherous, second-late-night-in-a-row ushered out my birthday (with me cheek-kissing everybody from the DJ to the gay makeup artist who was lecturing me on the need for burgundy liner to make my face “real honey-like”), I celebrated in a more civilized way: dinner, a concert and a new tulle-tiered Betsy Johnson frock…
It went like this:
My Patron hosted Kimberly, Erin, Celest and me at the stunning restaurant BoBo, in the West Village, where we ate foie gras, frogs legs, chestnut gnocci, lamb chops, steak frites, and more. The forks were flying, my friends were flawless and I was feeling fab! And I am dying to do a photo shoot in that gorgeous townhouse of a restaurant…
Next came a kick-ass performance by the awesome Jenni Muldaur (my Godmother) at Joe’s Pub! She rocked! And I took some great shots of her and her band as they rocked out. Then we all went across the street to Indochine for more champagne—this time, with a dark chocolate cake chaser. And a round of “Happy Birthday,” sung by the whole motley cru of The Tribe, the band, My Patron and the Indochine waiters.
In a couple days, I will be back in L.A. with Oscar, but epic nights like this birthday really only happen in New York. Plus, I’ll never be able to wear my ball gown out on the town on the West coast; nobody there’s ever prepared for my brand of eccentric glamour…