February 7, 2008

Italians do it better

Standing in the check-in line for the Nanette Lepore show, I encountered a very sad-looking Italian security man. I asked him what was wrong. Someone had tossed out his kawfee, he told me. His friend over at the coffee bar had made his cappuccino perfectly, just how he likes it. He put it down on the check-in table for one second--and then it was gone. “I don’t need much,” he said in his heavy Hoboken accent. “I just need my kawfee in the morning.” He had a few pockmarks in his skin, dark hair slicked back and a heavy overcoat.
I saw him giving the evil eye to one of the check-in women. “It was her” he said. “She took my kawfee.” Then he launched into the most colorful list of expletives, explaining that she was on his hit list for the rest of fashion week. You don’t throw out an Italian’s morning coffee and expect not to pay for it. I offered him my Mocha Latte but he shook his head. He was inconsolable.
I was ushered on, where another security guard, older, with slightly thinning slicked-back salt and pepper hair, was keeping an eye on the crowd of guests. He pointed to the cup of Joe in my hand. “No kawfee in the tents, Miss.” Wow – another wise guy! He was stern, no-nonsense and magnificent. I tossed out my cup immediately and remembered Madonna’s “Papa Don’t Preach” video. This guy, I realized, actually was Papa.
Inside the tents I noticed a hub of activity around front row. Around a dozen photographers were taking pictures of a magnificently busted, no-nonsense looking woman. She looked so familiar, and yet I couldn’t place her face. “Who is she?” I asked the paparazza next to me. “No idea,” she said, snapping away. Then the penny dropped—it was Lorraine Bracco. Star of "Goodfellas". Star of "The Sopranos". Mama mia.
I took a picture, sat back down, and savored the flavor of Little Italy.

February 7, 2008 in NEW YORK | Permalink