Team Party Crash: Sante d'Orazio Book Launch @ Gramercy Park Hotel
Photographer Sante d'Orazio has a reputation for doing the sexy picture thing, not to mention the actual sex-the-models thing. His new book, Katlick School, goes right for the groin of a particular fetish — the sexual awakening of a nubile girl in Catholic school uniform. Fulfilling the barely repressed urges of generations of Catholic school boys, the book has aroused adult Catholics in quite a different fashion, though none bothered to show up to protest the book's launch last night at the Gramercy Park Hotel. For this occasion, our week long Party Crash scrambling resulted in headliner photog Nikola Tamindzic getting able backup from lenswoman Our Pal Kate. The end result is a doubleplusgood collection of photos. You can look at a complete gallery of the whole shebang; or, you can sift through Nikola's photos; or, spend time with Kate's collection (full gallery here). Plus, check out an exclusive! gallery! of preview pics from the book over at Fleshbot. Warning: hidden somewhere in all these is a make-out scene involving Mickey Rourke and Val Kilmer. Go fetch! And after the jump, Kate gives up the narrative lowdown.
I guess I'm not one of the cool kids, because I'd never been to the Gramercy Park Hotel before. It was pretty hardcore. You have to be on a list to get in the front door of the hotel, period. I was somewhat concerned that they'd look at me and laugh when I attempted to cross their marble-and-glass threshold, but fortunately, this was not the case.
I arrived at the party with two of my friends around 9 p.m., at which point the festivities hadn't really begun. I started poking around to see if there was anyone worthwhile to photograph when I saw a familiar flash of tartan out of the corner of my eye. Lo and behold, Glenn O'Brien was holding court by the pool table. I took some photos of him, which prompted him to ask who I was working for. I replied that I was working for Gawker, and he asked if I had worked the Prada party on Monday. When I replied that I hadn't, he said, "I'm wearing the same coat as I did on Monday!" It took every ounce of restraint I had not to scream "YOU'RE WEARING A TARTAN SLEEPING BAG!" Fortunately, I was able to conduct myself with a modicum of decorum, squeaking out a barely-audible "Yes, I noticed" before running away.
The party picked up around 10:30 p.m., by which point Molly Sims, Mickey Rourke, and Val Kilmer arrived. At this point, my Bulgarian friend Stoyan had imbibed quite a few drinks, so he sauntered up to Val Kilmer and said to him, "Hey, Val? Who was that girl you fucked in Heat? She was hot!" Val turned to him and replied, "Yeah, I know, right??" Note to starfuckers: nothing says bonding like light chauvinism.
Around midnight, some more celebutards joined the mix, including Mary-Kate Olsen with her hideous man-candy, Ivanka Trump with her newly installed flotation devices, a less-gaunt-than-expected Kate Bosworth, and Helena Christiansen. Trying to be nice and not all stalker/paparazzi-y, I asked if I could photograph them, to which they all replied in the negative. I was able to get one picture of Kate from across the room (thanks, telephoto lens!), at which point one of the security guards at the bar rushed over and told me to stop taking photos. When I replied that I was invited to the party to do just that, he informed me that the party had been over for an hour. Oops. I guess time flies when you're staring at Mickey Rourke's plastic surgery scars.
