I had to fill up my gas tank twice this weekend, driving to every hamlet and town east of the canal. By Sunday I was covered in sand, sunburned in places I had forgotten existed (my armpits!), and very happy to have a day to do absolutely nothing — other than people-watching. Naturally, I ended Sunday with an evening at Madoo at Sagaponack. This is the Hamptons, after all. You may spend six hours lying out horizontally, but you still have somewhere to be by 5.
After a quick shower on Friday evening, with creams and serums tossed on my face, I slipped into the black cotton Xirena dress I bought at Henry Lehr last weekend and put a silk scarf on my head. My purse, vintage 2007, was stuffed with peppermint Altoids, a few toothpicks from Cittanouva, and some loose change and cash.
After a sharp turn onto Pondview Lane in East Hampton Village, bypassing the valet, I parked my car a two-minutes' walk from Guild Hall. The night was celebrating two occasions: Ross Bleckner's exhibition opening and the 10-year anniversary of Andrea Grover as executive director of our great local arts institution. I arrived late to the cocktail hour (but I did enjoy sitting amongst the hedges, where I could eavesdrop on the conversations between the catering staff). Marty Cohen, chairman of Guild Hall's board, gave an incredibly warm and mushy speech about Grover and my eyes welled up as we watched a video honoring her accomplishments — personally, artistically, and professionally. She is a powerhouse, a woman many look up to, especially the next generation of artists and creatives.
Durell Godfrey Photos
My cocktail-hour ticket expired, but my after-party ticket hadn't! While guests staying for the evening picked up their forks and knives, I hopped back into my car and drove west to the cheaper (hah!) gas stations. On my way out, I saw Nina Yankowitz and Barry Holden sitting together, both in stunning looks, I spotted Cindy Sherman in an all-white dress, a red lip, and platform Prada sandals; April Gornik in a polka dot dress, and Baroness Sheri de Borchgrave in an orange silhouette. David Salle wore a blue seersucker blazer and a gorgeous pair of suede Belgian loafers, and Emily Salle wore a white and gold cotton dress with a strappy gold sandal. Kim Heirston, the Manhattan art-world fixture, wore a flowy off-the-shoulder dress, the color of a Prince album cover.
As I made my second entrance for the after party just before 10, I said hello to my old friends on Guild Hall's staff — I go way back there, having served on the Teen Arts Council in my high school years — and found my best friend, Julianna Vargas, who had started her first day at Guild Hall earlier that morning. I moved over to the dance floor to find Toni Ross in a flashy sequin dress, with Alice Hope wearing a black cotton dress and bright metallic loafers. Julienne Boone wore a black mesh top over her black dress, with a Yves Saint Laurent bag, and Yuka Silvera wore archival Issey Miyake. Lola Lama changed into a bright-orange shiny fringed number, and Yanni Bitis wore a tailored blue-and-white shirt with black slacks. Almond Zigmund was dressed in monochrome: a red flowy dress, and a bright red leather pump, platformed and open on the toe box. The matriarch of the party, Grover, wore a silk dress accented with feathers and gold hoop earrings. Katie Holmes was dancing without shoes, with Jason Bard Yarmosky, the painter. Ms. Holmes and I shared a dancefloor smile, and kept grooving to a mashup of Beyonce and Whitney Houston.
The music ended, and the D.J. announced that the after-party for the after-party would be at Murf's in Sag Harbor. Before I said good night to my friends, one of the catering staff members complimented my bag. I mentioned that it had debuted in 2007. His reply: "Miuccia Prada knows what she's doing." I picked up the hem of my dress and found my way back to Springs.
Alison Morris Roslyn and Frankie Bademci Photos
On Saturday, the traffic heading out to Montauk was heavy. It appeared that drivers who hadn't experienced the Napeague stretch before were nervous to go above 40 m.p.h. I soon arrived at Crow's Nest for the Surfrider Foundation's One Ocean Gala. If you haven't been before, or are planning on going soon, be warned that the parking lot at Crow's Nest is a tight squeeze. Julian Schnabel and I almost kissed bumpers. He was trying to park his black S.U.V. I was trying to not let my anxiety win. . . .
After doing a quick lap, I found an open spot right next to the entrance and slipped on my event bracelet. Catering staff were offering cocktails in metal reusable cups, but I grabbed a can of La Croix from the bar. Jean Prounis and I had a quick chat about the Lapis pendant she had donated for the auction. I spotted Janet O'Brien, who throws some of the most elegant and dashing dinners and parties on the East End as well as New York City, and told her her shoes were one of my favorites: white leather tennis sneakers with red stitching, mirroring the same lines of a baseball. She told me she'd gotten them at the Shoe Inn warehouse sale last summer at the American Legion in Amagansett. (Note: This popular sale is happening again now through Aug. 23.)
I found Lisa Wasserman. She was wearing a blue pedicure that was exactly the color I'd been going for, though the blue I ended up with myself was too bright. Wasserman and I giggled over the D.J. set Diplo was playing about 20 feet away.
One of my favorite looks of the evening was worn by Mary Ellen Matthews, the photographer: a cream-colored, hand-embroidered skirt with long fringe at the bottom, paired with a blue shirt, and silver-and-turquoise jewelry. I was only wearing what I'd been wearing all day (a blue-and-white sailor shirt, white shorts, and my Speedo), and still had some sand on my ankles.
Wainscott was warmer than Montauk — it's the sea breeze — and Tripoli Gallery was buzzing when I got there later that evening. The gallery's newest exhibition, "Holy Mary," highlighted the work of 11 women, artists known both regionally and internationally: Katherine Bradford and Katherine Bernhardt, as well as Sabra Moon Elliot, Sally Egbert, and Lucy Winton. The show was curated perfectly, and the smiles in the room were as bright as the neon in Bernhardt's comical and gestural paintings. Will Ryan told me about his recent travels back to Maui. Matthews, who like me had just driven west from Montauk, and I talked about how magical Bradford's paintings were. Kim Heirston made an entrance wearing a bright-gold dress, and I took the chance to compliment her on the aubergine number she'd worn the night before. I congratulated Egbert, and then it was time to go home.
On Sunday, I landed at Two Mile Hollow Beach in mid-afternoon to soak up as many U.V. rays as my sunblock would allow. I got somewhat stuck in a baby riptide, but the water was relaxing and the waves just big enough to remind you of your place in the world. After showering off the sand (I seem to spend all summer dealing with sand), I schlepped over to Sagaponack in a new shirt I bought from Vivien Ramsey's archive sale in Montauk this weekend to see a new show at the Madoo Conservancy. Ross Bleckner had transformed what was previously Robert Dash's studio into a space for conversations about grief, and about appreciation. The show was called "Mind of My Body" and it featured more than two dozen works on paper — some framed, some not — that hadn't been exhibited to the public before. Amy Kirwin was at Maddoo, adorned in her fabulous gems, and Melanie Crader, too, wearing black and silver. I met with Dina Al Khairy, and we meandered around the gardens together. While admiring the fig trees and tomato plants, we turned a new corner into a new garden "room," which neither of us had seen before. In it we found a Beethoven statue, and a pair of plein air painters also admiring the scenery.
After Madoo, I drove East with the sunset behind me, ready for the next weekend ahead. You never know who you are going to share the dance floor with, or who will be using the urinal next to you. Fashion continues to bring the people together for the greater good.
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Frankie Bademci grew up in East Hampton and holds master’s degrees in art history and visual art. He previously wrote art criticism and artist profiles for the Express News Group and is now writing dispatches for The Star and East magazine from all the best parties, art openings, haute-hippy happenings, random bar run-ins, literary soirees, and society scenes.
