As far as partying is concerned, New York Fashion Week: Men’s does not compare to the debauchery of the larger fashion weeks. But there were still plenty of opportunities to hang with models, designers and celebrities.
The festivities began on Monday night, when the Council of Fashion Designers of America and Cadillac held a party at the Cadillac House, the car brand’s new public space in Lower Manhattan. Celebrities like Kellan Lutz, Shaun White and Jerry O’Connell mingled with fashion insiders, and Common performed.
On Tuesday, Amazon Fashion and East Dane, the brother site to Shopbop.com, invited scads of pretty boys to its plush Prime Lounge at Skylight Clarkson Sq. There were a few girls, too. “I’m front row for Rochambeau tomorrow,” said Lais Ribeiro, the Brazilian Victoria’s Secret Angel, wearing a floral wrap from Alexandre Vauthier. Asked if she was worried about the surging encroachment of men’s fashion week, she laughed. “Oh, not at all,” she said. “The ladies support the boys.”
Amazon’s lounge, cocooned by velvety couches and blue curtains, was conceived as a refuge from fashion week. But as the wine flowed, the lounge became a fracas itself. In one corner, a scrum of male models whooped with glee as they reaped Amazon products raffled off via scratch cards. Another model carved out enough room to do the Running Man Challenge dance, earning cheers.
Also on Tuesday night, Jefferson Hack, a founder of Dazed Media and the former Mr. Kate Moss, celebrated his new book, “We Can’t Do This Alone: Jefferson Hack the System,” with a dinner at the Commissary, the airy new restaurant at the Metrograph, a boutique theater on the Lower East Side.
Long, low-lit tables were lined with artists, actors, publishers and other alt-world luminaries from Mr. Hack’s enviable orbit. “I live in London, but I’ve been coming here for 20 years, so I’ve got quite a few friends here,” said Mr. Hack, wearing a slim leather bomber and animal-print rockabilly shoes.
The gathering felt intimately familiar, as if it were a weekly dinner party that had been going on for years, which in a sense it was. “Oh, I’ve known Jefferson for about forever,” said Leigh Lezark, the Misshapes D.J., wearing a Gucci ski sweater she’d paired with a satiny skirt.
Mazdack Rassi, the Milk Studios magnate, added: “We used to run around together 15 years ago. We slept on each other’s couches, ate mustard sandwiches together.”
Not everyone had known Mr. Hack since the Pampers, though. As kale salads topped with poached egg sailed out of the kitchen, the artist Urs Fisher, who contributed to the book, said: “We met recently, on a long sailing trip. We were the only people who weren’t in relationships, so we ended up talking for, like, three days.”
As dinner wrapped and gave way to Drambuie-Aperol cocktails, a thespian contingent squared up at the bar. No one seemed overly concerned with men’s fashion week, least of all the artist Jonah Freeman. Asked if he was attending any events, he said: “Is that happening? Right now?”