Sartorialist Reception Recap

As y'all have likely figured out by now, Lauren and I went to the Adamson Gallery yesterday for a reception featuring The Sartorialist himself, Scott Schuman. As any description of the event I attempt freestyle will no doubt turn to a rambling mess, I will use a vaguely Zagat/Iron chef style of describing it:

Show itself: 6. It was pretty minimalist, which I don't mind, but I feel they could have afforded to make the pictures bigger. I'd say they were only 3 or 4 times the size they are on the blog. I mean, how badass would lifesize sartorialist photos be? I felt it was also rather small selection, but I suppose that's to be expected with limited gallery space and all. I, personally would be content to roam corridors upon corridors of Sartorialist photos for hours, but I am guessing a Victorian mansion was not available for rent.

People: 7. Definitely one of best people watching opportunities afforded ever. Like I said, I have no doubt D.C.'s cream of the proverbial fashion crop was there. Some very interesting characters. Lauren and I met a lot of really nice people. There was the obligatory quotient of pretentious assholes (Lauren and I were physically edged out by some of the more aggressive suck ups more than twice), but I suppose this is inherent at these sort of events. On the whole though, we met some super nice people who were cool with being approached by a pair of bizarre looking (no offense, LP) teenagers for a picture. It turns out the beautiful asian girl with bangs in one of the pictures Lauren posted graduated from Churchhill like two years ago! I was not shocked, to say the least, when she said she hated it. Churchhill is way too preppy and stifling of a place for a badass like her. At any rate, this endows me with hope for life after Montgomery County public school.

Style: 8. Cosmopolitan with a healthy dose of bohemian. This is "bohemian" we refer to, of course, for I'm sure the total cost of the attendees shoes alone could feed a small african country. All very fashion forward and impeccable. And absolutely no one was tarted up-- the little makeup I saw was applied perfectly. I didn't really see any straight up risk takers though. There were those little bits of quirkiness, you know, retro glasses and hats, but it was all very deliberate and meticulous. I wouldn't go so far as to say forced, but it wasn't natural either. (For natural quirkiness, I cite Lauren's picture of the curly haired man with 60's glasses. He's perfect.) Not that I've ever attended a gallery opening in New York or Paris, but I feel like there wasn't the level of free spirited risk taking you'd see there. There were definitely no Anna Piaggis present.

Mr. Schuman: 10. He was great. He was so nice and talkative! And he totally just kept his cool even though people were jamming huge SLR's in his face literally the entire time. He got around to everyone who was gatherered around him to talk (and this crowd was formidable) and took everyone's questions seriously. After literally half an hour of waiting about 3 feet from him, Lauren and I got to talk to with him! (In fact just as I was about to snap this lady edged her way in, but Mr. Schuman was all these girls have been very patient! Such a nice guy!) We told him about our blog and he wasn't that interested in it, but he answered all of our questions and took us really seriously. He and Lauren had a photographers' heart to heart and I talked to him about the woman in some of his New Dehli pictures (I put one of them in a post a little while ago). Apparently he had dinner with her, and she's like a living incarnation of Audrey Hepburn down to the dialect and head movements. When one of the aforementioned assholes took advantage of a lull in the conversation to jump in, Lauren and I started to leave and he remembered to turn to say bye to us! (After this I promptly bumped one of the photographs, as I have all the gracefulness of an adolescent hippo.) Basically, he was exactly how I thought he would be, down to his attire (fleece/wool? blazer layered with windbreaker, nice jeans, some casual shoes) and voice. Poor guy in that blazer, he was sweating the whooole time and dabbing his forehead with his pocket square. Something I've been suspecting for a very long time was confirmed last night: There is a race of people that occupy a certain plane of effortless elegance who don't sweat. (Ex. aforementioned Churchill grad) They just don't, even in the overheated packed gallery. But Mr. Schuman was, in spades. I think this really humanized him for me.

Overall it was a really great experience and I'm glad we could come and take it all in. In conclusion, everyone should come to the show while it's here. You know, the 5 of you who read the blog, including my nuclear family. Hi, mom!