Chasing down Alejandro Ferllen. That's what I was doing as the ball dropped on the New Year. It wasn't for an interview or to say hello. I needed tickets to get my friend in and my license back from the doorman. After a day when Ferllen Productions' Private Mansion party was moved hours before its start from mid-Beach to Jeannette Varela's Star Island estate, yours truly was invited, then uninvited for asking insiders about the reasons for the last-minute disarray (allegedly some club owners were peeved about the party's 10:00 a.m. -- as opposed to their 5:00 a.m. -- finish line and complained to the city). But once the Latin party promoter wised up, they reinvited me in good faith. That is, until I got to the door and found that my name still wasn't on the list. I would have left if it weren't for the $30 I spent on valet parking. In the end I enjoyed the shindig, except for the $10 drinks and long lines for the powder (and I do mean powder) room. Those waits were accompanied by Venezuelan boys with annoyingly rough accents, like one who seemed straight enough but wore tight jeans that accented his toosh and a tight spandex top with the word "Kiss" in gold letters. And no, he had never heard of the legendary rock band by the same name.
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The night's excitement revolved around a somewhat standoffish conversation between Fashion TV/The WOMB's Duncan Ross and Dancestar USA's Elliot Stares about the future of the Winter Music Conference. In a nutshell, Ross wanted more collaboration and less competition among WMC week's multiplying entities, and Stares tentatively agreed, but not at the expense of Dancestar's attention-grabbing awards show. After that breath of intelligent air I felt like blowing this pretentious, frothy party to be with my friends. So I spent the rest of the night in the comfy confines of Soho Lounge at Aquabooty/Backdoor Bamby's bash where people like Tomas, Joe Budious, Ana Diaz-Balart, Jasmine Kastel, and the lovely Kate Anderson reminded me that cool people still exist in 2004.