As usual, Betsey’s show was joyous. It’s always fun to see old friends there and Betsey and Chantal’s personalities permeate the atmosphere. You can’t feel depressed at a Betsey Johnson show. Well, you CAN, but it requires great conviction. Before one recent show, a temporary cap suddenly dislodged itself in my mouth, so I became cranky as hell. I was in such PAIN, I had to dislodge the rest of myself and scamper off to the dentist. I missed the entire presentation. (sob) I chatted with my old friend Nick Graham, the great genius behind Joe Boxer. He had just arrived that morning and was off to London. Nick provided one of the most unforgettable Fashion Week moments years ago when he staged his show, the final one of the week, in ICELAND. We all met in a private Icelandic Air lounge where the party had already started. Then, we boarded a plane and off we went. I can’t even begin to explain how delirious I was snowboarding for my first time down a VERY steep mountain after absolutely no sleep. And we spent our last day in the hot springs, which meant we had to endure the plane ride home covered in salt. There was a show and a party, where the most famous guest was Bjork’s mom! We went out on the town (all the night spots in Reykjavik are on one street) one night (though it was as sunny as mid-day until around 3 AM) and all the giant blonde locals were so drunk and so eager to meet real Black people, they kept approaching a poor guy in our group, stretching out their hands in greeting, then kept falling over on him. Timber! We also visited the President and his wife, who was a clothing designer (she has since died) and learned more than enough about Santa Claus and elves who take and bring shoes and meat. I’m sure we’ve all experienced such elves. In New York we call them Junkies and Crack Heads, I believe. I was seated behind dear Patrick McDonald, who is always either next to me, in front of me or behind me at every Betsey show. He’s such a sweetie and a first rate person to dish with. And, as usual, there was a delightful goodie bag with a Redken conditioner, a tiny Betsey perfume & a sheer pink low-rise thong decorated with a jewel, a bow and lace. (Happy husband material) The lights went down and on came Betsey looking ravishing, holding her newest grandchild in one arm, holding her eldest granddaughter Layla’s hand on the other side, while Layla held a giant yellow duck balloon. Betsey soon handed off the tots to someone in the audience (I guess it might have been her daughter Lulu) and ran back stage. The show was pure Betsey. There was a lot of history in it, as well. I definitely saw a shrug that looked exactly like an old Alley Cat sweater I have SOMEWHERE. And I definitely had those rompers in some configuration back when I was a wee one. Oh, and the ruffled dresses were simply delicious! I LOVED the wedding dresses at the end, especially the short one. Just gorgeous. Makes me want to hop right over to the liposucker & have myself sucked out, lifted, cut and sewn back to my body of yore, Alas. The presentation seemed to be based on Peter Pan. A pinpoint of green light kept appearing, which always represents MY favorite character, Tinkerbelle, the wondrous mischievous fairy (or some overly dedicated professor trying to highlight for the class certain points of a lesson…but the happenings on-stage didn’t exactly scream COLLEGE to me). The message hit home when someone emerged who, for ME, was the BIG surprise: A very “drunken”, randy, swashbuckling pirate staggered out every so often, tossing golden coins, grabbing lots of model ass and generally causing a ruckus. He was too lanky and blonde to be Johnny Depp and far too cute, young and hairless to be Captain Hook. Besides, he did seem to have both paws in place (as the models can surely testify to). “Is that LIAM?” I asked Patrick McDonald. “I think it is!” Patrick agreed. Well, it sure enough was. And, once again I was so proud of my adorable tall drink of water Godson, Liam McMullan (and his daddy, who was right there had never even warned me….or bragged about it before the show!) for being so fearless, cheeky and totally entertaining. Keep talking trash about him on web sites and he’ll stomp all over your tired pathetic negativity with a smile and a lot more smarts than he’s given credit for. This kid knows how to play the game AND deliver the goods. So there, you Haters! I’d throw the lot of you to a big ticking croc or banish you to Davey Jones’ locker. The, you’d REALLY have something to HATE (besides yourselves). The ending was Betsey doing her trademark cartwheel in a stunning emerald green sequined dress and Liam mugging and skipping with her, also cartwheeling, and continuing to pat down mannequins doing their final walk. Pure joy. More so than what poor Stan Herman was experiencingi as I passed him rushing back to the tents as I rushed to my bike. He was trying to shovel what looked like yogurt into his mouth, but it, instead, landed on the pavement. He glanced at me with the most doleful look. Poor guy.