I celebrated my birthday every morning, noon and night with friends, family, lovers and puppies — all the way from Montauk to East Quogue.
Last Thursday morning, I spent the first hours of my birthday sipping a coffee at the Golden Pear Cafe in East Hampton and chatting on the phone with family all over the world. I picked up my copy of The Star — birthday edition! — and hopped back in my beached-out Jeep to head to Montauk. Knowing I’d be eating too much birthday cake this weekend, I figured I’d get my vitamins while I could and drove to Joni’s for a green juice.
As I walked into the surfer-chic establishment on South Etna Avenue, owned and operated by Joni Brosnan, I was greeted by the head chef: Lana Daniliuk rushed over with a smile, wished me a happy birthday, and said my order would be right out. A couple moments later, she and her crew emerged from the kitchen holding a muffin and candles, serenading me with a happy birthday song. Everyone on the block cheered, and I got a big hug from the master chef herself.
I hopped back into my car and drove to a friend’s house in East Hampton, where we shared the delicious muffin and some banana bread I’d ordered, and talked about what the weekend would look like: launch party, puppy party, sports party, birthday parties. Maybe I could convince myself that my neglected laundry was a party, too.
When Thursday evening rolled around, I set out for LongHouse Reserve to hang out with artists and writers alike, brought together to celebrate the release of the curator and writer James Salomon’s new book, “DayDreams.” The book is a collection of artwork and written contributions from 44 artists who have ties to LongHouse — artists like Ai WeiWei, Bjorn Amelan, Laurie Anderson, Andrea Grover, Jill Platner, Lori Hawkins, Agathe Snow, Toni Ross, and Alice Hope.
When I approached the check-in person, he asked if my guest would be joining me.
“Did I book for two?” I asked. I had not, but apparently mostly everyone else had.
I walked into the party by my lonesome. To my relief, I was immediately greeted by Dianne Benson and Lys Marigold. Smile central, kisses on the cheek, and happy birthday wishes.
Dianne introduced me to her friends, Mike Moran and Jeff Gates, longtime supporters of the LongHouse Reserve and avid supporters of the arts. Lys was wearing a black and white polka dot top, and Eric Firestone was in green slacks and a blue and white striped poplin shirt. Parker Firestone was in a white dress, scrolling between Snapchat, the RealReal, and what I thought was Blade — a premium charter service where you can fly between New York and the Hamptons instead of taking the L.I.R.R., the Hampton Jitney, or worse, a car.
Pamela Willoughby and I caught up briefly, and I also got to chatting with Max Blagg. Pami invited me to a reading that Max would be hosting at Shooster Arts in Sag Harbor on Saturday. I ran into the artist and painter Jane Wagner, whose studio is on Shelter Island, and we made plans to get dinner and talk about art and maybe even boy gossip. Jane’s paintings are delicate and dreamy, and she reminds me to be open and playful.
I turned around to find April Gornik in a black flowy dress, and Lola Lama in a red patent leather pump and a striped yellow and white top with vintage Levi’s jeans. Alice Hope and I were matching in our camouflage and denim outfits, and Toni Ross was wearing a vintage Issey Miyake yellow cardigan. I sat down with the crew, and we listened to Mr. Saloman read from his book.
After securing my copy of “DayDreams,” I showed Anita Haber and Melissa Feldman where reflecting pool was on the property, and then found my way back to my car. I had 8:30 birthday dinner reservations at Almond in Bridgehampton, and a birthday cake in my trunk.
On Friday morning, I filled up my gas tank and went for a swim. I ended up staying at Atlantic Avenue Beach in Amagansett nearly all day with my friend Julianna Vargas, and we got hot dogs and slushies from the Beach Hut. In the evening, I relocated to Hot Dog Beach, a spot in West Quogue where my sister, Meliha Bademci, hosted a bonfire. We ate hot dogs and lobster salad, and danced under the stars.
Saturday was big: vintage shopping, a softball game, and lots of puppies!
I headed out to Montauk again for another green juice at Joni’s, and to see my friend Sunny Melet for her pop-up at the Female Flea Market. I left with a fun anklet, a few 1960s vintage skirts from Paris, and a few dollars less in my back pocket. I was wearing my Pliseé zebra print top, one of Issey Miyake’s first line of his pleated fabrics, and a pair of white trousers. I turned back to East Hampton Village to catch the Artists and Writers Charity Softball Game, and made it just in time for the national anthem and a home run in the first inning.
The writers’ team won by two points, 8-6. Sonja Morgan didn’t show up, and a little bird told me that it might have been an open bar at the Golden Life’s party last night.
At the Animal Rescue Fund of the Hamptons (ARF)’s Bow Wow Meow Ball, I was shuttled on a golf cart to greet puppy after puppy, some on leashes, others in hands. I walked under the tent and spotted a dolphin-shaped Judith Leiber bag, which typically retails for about $6,000 at Neiman Marcus. I couldn’t place the bag’s owner, though she was chatting with Fern Mallis, and so I knew she was of fashion importance. I then spotted Susan and Jay Colman, and said hello, and Mel Lagomasino, who was in a flowy red and white silk dress. The tent was tightly packed and everyone was schmoozing — even Paul McCartney. I saw a Birkin 30 that was closed on the top (What are you hiding in there?) and a Jean Paul Gaultier Kelly 25 in a rare orange color that I hadn’t yet seen in the Hamptons. A photographer asked me to move out of the frame when he was snapping photos, so I went to hang out with the dogs who were up for adoption. I left wanting a dog, but knew I couldn’t.
I went to Topping Rose House for dinner with the man I’ve been kissing lately, and we mulled over the highs and lows of my birthday weekend. I had eaten multiple birthday cakes, danced under the stars, relaxed at the beach, bought vintage clothes, watched a softball game, and driven what felt like 500 miles west of the canal. It was, all things considered, an incredible weekend. But I still wanted the pooch. After all, it is my birthday, and I can cry if I want to.
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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.
