2010 March 9

Dear Daily!

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Daniel Benedict, Andrew Saffir Daniel Benedict, Andrew Saffir
Patrick McMullan
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(LOS ANGELES) Dear Daily,

I write this with a little lump in my throat. Today I experience my version of post-partum depression. The official end to Oscar weekend. For all of you fashionistas who think Fashion Week is hectic and breakneck, you ain't seen nothin' until you've experienced Oscar week in L.A. The flurry of breakfasts, lunches, cocktails, dinners and after-parties is dizzying. This particular weekend was the thrilling culmination of a year of multiple favorites for me. I had the great fortune of screening contenders Precious, Inglourious Basterds, An Education, A Single Man, The Young Victoria, and many more (and please don't mention The Hurt Locker to me - I was asked to do the N.Y. premiere last June and had to bow out due to a schedule conflict, and needless to say, I've now been kicking myself for months). Anyway, on to Oscar week/weekend. Lunches at the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel (Nicole Kidman! Tom Ford! Leo! Tom & Katie & Suri!), dinners at Tower Bar (hotelier and New Yorker Jeff Klein has turned his hotel and restaurant into the hottest spot - Demi Moore, Jennifer Aniston, Graydon Carter, George Clooney and more sup here night after night, while being coddled by Dimitri, the coolest maitre d' in town).

After dinner, it's off to the Chateau Marmont garden and this town's newest (and just opened) hotspot Soho House, two floors with dazzling Boom Boom-esque views and chic outdoor terraces atop a Sunset Boulevard office building. And then, of course, there are the parties. Too, too many to list, but here are some of the highlights: Elton John's party at Soho House (Madonna, Josh Hartnett, Kelly Osbourne and more; Daniel and I retreat to a quiet table for dinner with our pals Rachel Zoe and hubby Rodger Berman), the Piaget-sponsored Independent Spirit Awards (where two of my faves, Precious & An Education reigned supreme; I just wished A Single Man had gotten a well-deserved statue), lunch at Barry Diller's and Diane Von Furstenberg's sprawling Beverly Hills house (Nancy Reagan and Jon Hamm grazing outdoors on macaroni and cheese and fried chicken!), the Night Before party at the Beverly Hills Hotel (an endless array of A-listers: Sandra Bullock, Matt Damon, Reese Witherspoon, Halle Berry, Steven Spielberg, Penelope Cruz and tons more), Harvey Weinstein's party at Soho House celebrating A Single Man, Inglourious Basterds and Nine (where we bump into our friends Diane Kruger and Josh Jackson, and my new favorite-person-to-see-night-after-night Gabby Sidibe.

There’s also Jennifer Lopez, Kate Bosworth, Colin Firth, Quentin Tarantino, and there goes Leo again; Daniel and I huddle at a window table with another two of our faves, gorgeous Georgina Chapman and equally stunning Keren Craig, whose incomparable creations adorned multiple Oscar nominees this year, along with soon-to-be-named Best Actress Sandra Bullock!), and finally, Sunday is upon us. No surprise, the hottest ticket in town is the Vanity Fair party. My excitement builds each year once the car pass arrives at our hotel, and reaches a fever pitch as Daniel and I walk the red carpet (right behind Cameron Diaz) and into the Sunset Tower. Graydon Carter and his amazing team draw every A-lister in town (Tom Hanks, Jane Fonda, Charlize Theron, Sandra Bullock, Jeff Bridges, Sean Penn, Meryl Streep and on and on and on). It's beyond, and by the end of the night, we all have whiplash from stargazing. Even the stars are stargazing (while munching on yummy In-N-Out burgers).

After that, Daniel and I head to the end-all of all after-after parties - the one thrown by Madonna, Demi Moore and Guy Oseary at Oseary's spectacular house. I think I may just plead the fifth here and keep the early morning attendees a secret, but suffice it to say, it is a staggering and awe-inspiring mix of Oscar winners, nominees and the just plain super-famous and super-cool. Everyone's kicked off their shoes, Madonna and Demi are dancing up a storm, and we all hunker down over chicken curry and dance tunes until, gulp, 5 a.m.-ish (confession: Daniel and I left at around 4:30 am--though the party was just picking up steam, Daniel and I were running out of said steam). And then Monday night, a quiet and low key dinner at uber-manager Jason Weinberg's fantastic house. Now, it's a wave goodbye to the Hollywood sign, and back to NYC......


Andrew Saffir

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