Fug Girls:Very Special End to Fashion Week


FRom New York Mag-SO cute how Kingston jumped onstage to be with Gwen!!:

One of the things we’ll miss most about Fashion Week is the eavesdropping. On Thursday night, as we came out of Naeem Khan and turned right back around to go into Gwen Stefani’s L.A.M.B. show, a fan clogged the passageway by asking a woman in a black cotton ruched catsuit and a leopard trench for a photo. The woman politely obliged, and we heard someone behind us inform her friend, “That’s the woman from that girl band. You know the one. It’s called Spicy. Or Spices. Or The Spice, or something.” Well, she had most of the right words in there, just never in the right sequence: It was Mel B., a.k.a. Scary Spice of that wee musical collective The Spice Girls, living up to her name by looking frighteningly blonde and dressed like she’d just come from an audition for a Cats revival being staged at Scores.

Mel curled up in her front row seat and—as so many celebs have done this season —posed for more random fan photos while her husband, Stephen Belafonte, sat behind her in a suit and pink tie. We’d read rumors that the two were divorcing, but they certainly didn’t look like it, whispering to each other and taking pictures together as if everything were peachy. Well, almost everything: Mel showed him a photo on her cell phone, and he grimaced in mock-horror and appeared to be trying to make her delete it. Otherwise, though, they were very coupley, and we suspect their love is genuine because she just isn’t that good of an actress. Spice World will testify to that.

All of No Doubt came to support Gwen’s big show—her first runway event since 2007—and so did Debbie Harry, Interscope Records president Jimmy Iovine, a large-hat-clad Kelly Wearstler (whom we overheard speaking super seriously to some dude about how the recession has affected Dolce & Gabbana) and, randomly, Christian Siriano and Twilight’s Julia Jones. The latter sat next to stylist Robert Verdi, and right near Omarion, who was clad in a white dinner jacket with black lapels, a pink bow tie, and a denim shirt. Clearly, he wanted to look as subtle as possible so as not to detract from Gwen’s work, an aim he furthered by singing along to MGMT on the soundtrack whilst also performing a remarkably well-choreographed chair dance.

The highest-profile guests, though, were Gwen’s hubby Gavin Rossdale and their sons Zuma and Kingston. Zuma sat on somebody’s lap right behind his dad, and Gavin bounced the older Kingston on his knee as Kingston happily chewed gum and played with a toy taxi. Once the show started, though, Kingston beat the entire front row at its own game: While Gavin, Tony Kanal, and the others rocked out to the pulsating music (with Gavin snapping photos of each of the whopping forty-seven outfits that came out), Kingston furrowed his brow and studied each look intensely. He displayed a concentration that most of us brain-fried reporters struggled to match, and then as soon as his mom came out for her bow—to a sped-up version of her “Hey Baby”—he beamed and wriggled until Gavin let him down so he could make a beeline for Gwen. She wasn’t expecting it, jumping slightly when he grabbed her and then elatedly taking his hand. Everybody in the room had stood at this point to watch the little dude, and thus his enthusiasm won Gwen an extra catwalk ovation. Fashion Week has never ended on so heart-warming—or cute—a note.

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