Last night I accompanied a dear friend to a book signing party to celebrate Candace Bushnell’s newest release “Killing Monica.” Miss Bushnell herself was in attendance and a venue snaking line of would-be Carrie Bradshaws clutched their hardbacks in anticipation of a signature and selfie with the author.
My friend and I scoped the scene, dropped $36 on two glasses of sparkling Rose, and contemplated one attendee’s choice of nude Louboutin peep-toes but no pedicure. With zero intention of purchasing the book and thereby zero chance of a pop culture photo op, we shimmied to the front of the line to conduct a renegade photo shoot of our own.
“Oh that’s Candace Bushnell behind me?”
As my husband Matt says, if you’ve been to one DC social event, you’ve been to them all. After a spirited discussion on the cyclical nature and sartorial merit of the jumpsuit (“it”outfit of the night), we made our way to the elevator to locate these fashionista’s favorite pastime: FOOD.
My outfit for this very fashionable party was a purple silk slip of a dress dating back to 2010. Faintly reminiscent of the iconic “naked dress” from SOTC season 1, I accessorized it with nude caged sandals, an ever-present Hermes scarf as belt and my priceless, incredibly precious and devastatingly stunning friend, Karina (super chic in a DVF jumpsuit).
Party book, Killing Monica by Candace Bushnell