Fairy tales can come true. It can happen to you! If you're young at heart, mind, and writing ability. At least, that's our takeaway from Park Avenue Peerage blogger James Kurisunkal's account of his meeting with socialite Tinsley Mortimer, who we call Ashley Winksdale now because that's what Lily Allen does. He journaled the moment for New York mag!

As I got out of the taxi in front of the Tribeca Grand last night, there were already blinding flashes. There she was: Tinsley Mortimer in full glory, a vision in Dior, a summer tan, golden heels, and that long blonde hair. It was her moment; I didn't interrupt. I dawdled on the sidewalk, and she made it inside. Then I walked past the photographers, opened the door, and there she was, waiting for me. This was it; this was her. My God, this was Tinsley.

I've been reading about her for years and posting her party pictures for months, so to finally meet Tinsley Mortimer — beauty ambassador for Dior, muse to Peter Som, Zac Posen, and Donatella Versace, junior committee chairwoman, lead debutante of the Bal du Bois, Colonial Dame, a Mortimer — was incredible. She saw me as I approached, and without a word from my mouth, she embraced me. I went weak in the knees. It was so good to finally meet, she said. We were going to have a great night, she promised. I nearly collapsed. We walked down the stairs, past all the PR girls with their black dresses and lists, me with the most self-confident person I'd ever met. As we walked to our reserved seats (next to Amy Sacco, in front of Nicole Miller), every woman and man looked at Tinsley. We weren't late, we weren't making noise, we weren't doing anything to attract attention. But everyone in that room knew who she was. Sienna Miller and Hana Soukupova, and every Eastern European model, Sony Pictures executive, and British journalist between them looked at her. Tinsley, I realized, can walk into a room and effortlessly pull the Persian from under anyone's Louboutins.

It only got better.

Actually the only way this story could have gotten better is if I had enough cyanide capsules for all of us, and I've only got the one for me. Sorry!

Park Avenue Peers: A Blogger Meets Tinsley [NYM]