By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
Paris Hilton was supposed to show up for the Ocean Drive magazine party at the five-star Mandarin Oriental Hotel last Thursday, which celebrated her appearance on the cover of the December issue. But Paris never appeared, even though she's in town. A little bird in a white fur coat said her publicist believes too much publicity for the hotel heiress is a bad thing. Well, that's dumb advice, because the Paris factor has everything to do with overexposure. Many people couldn't stand her when she first burst onto the party scene as just a spoiled, blond brat with a trust fund and no curfew. Truth is, the subsequent sex video scandals, E!television specials catching her pantyless crotch, and a reality TV show (The Simple Life) featuring her and Nicole Richie in Southwestern hell have made her more endearing. Now her classically structured face and body, sky-blue eyes, and platinum locks represent female Americana.
But back to the Paris-less party, where half the night was spent chatting with dastardly Deco Drive dude Louis Aguirre, who was shivering in nothing but a button-down shirt all night (next time, check the weather report at work before going out, Louis). Making their presence felt were twin Russian models Inder and Inna and their Russian boy pal and pop singer, Badder. And wait, there were more personalities who go by one name -- the kooky playwright Lynx and model/actress Yendi were puckering up all night for the lenses.
If this party wasn't too festive, it's my fault; I smoked a fat doober on the way there and stood in one spot eating scallop hors d'oeuvres for two hours. At least I got to listen to a set by Mark Leventhal, who was just nominated for best club DJ along with the likes of Danny Tenaglia by Club Systems International magazine. Any DJ who throws down Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust"as a dance track has a head up on tunes, because although the party was on the (artificially) sandy banks of Biscayne Bay, it's good that Mark let some people know that sexy, sultry Tropi-house is over.