Do I need to know a secret handshake? I don't know the secret handshake.

Ahhhh. We had such a fun day. Just did a last minute job for the wondrous Mr. Lee Carter over at Hint Mag. We've wanted to work with him for ages and finally, suddenly, he offered us the chance to shoot the portrait of the extraordinary, some have said, genius (I think that's a frightening, strange word) Mr. Harold Koda, head of The Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Since it was last minute, we didn't dress for the occasion, and looked pretty scruffy considering the bastion of fashion we were soon to encounter. And though obviously, nothing in our wardrobe could ever have given his sartorial expertise pause (except perhaps Kate's totally illegal cheetah skin coat from her grandma), we really would have at least liked to have smelled lovely. Oh well. Anyway, these are our light tests, we're giving you TOP SECRET preview of the gorgeous hand painted backdrops made especially for the exhibit by a Frenchman, who's name I've already forgotton, but who's the stenographer for the Paris Opera. Why does the opera need a stenographer? I dunno.



Anyway, it was amazing to walk through the secret chambers of the museum, and get a secret preview of the impending Poiret Show that'll open on May 9. Can you get desensitised to working in that environment? I can't imagine that it's possible. Every morning, to walk those chalky steps, rush past the mosaics and tapestries and armor, Greek Gods, African queens. How could you ever be blind to them? Everyday there, one must see another amazing artifact. Anyway, the lady escorting our scallywag asses around was tres chic and sweet and seemed very much appreciative of the coolness of her job.

AND if you can believe it -I can't believe it, this was the SECOND day in a row that Kate and I have been given private, special access to the innards of an extraordinary site of New York history.

Just yesterday evening we were invited to the private viewing of The Mid Town Y Photo Gallery Exhibit at the New York Public Library. Lucky for us we’re pals with a killer cool woman who is one of their book conservators.

I’m embarrassed to admit I’ve never been there before. But goodness. I walk into those coffered halls, the expansive marble walkways, jiminy crickets it’s beautiful. And juxtaposed with all this greatness –names like Astor, Hamilton, Carnegie carved into the white stone, was the funniest looking techno dance floor. We could hear the throbbing beats as we got closer, but couldn’t believe our ears, then lo and behold, the disco dance floor lights, and a goofy ageing DJ dressed in fluorescent pink spinning Donna Summer. Amazingly enough, 4 people were dancing, but we were convinced they were hired, not one other person the entire night danced except for me –but my pal Sarah, the conservator, dared me for a dollar.

Anyway.

kiss kiss

Milla