Last night, we took a date to Wakiya, the new high-end Chinese restaurant at Ian Schrager's Gramercy Park Hotel. The first thing one notices upon entering the space is the strong scent of burning oolong tea. ("It's behind the banquettes," the waiter proudly explained.) The second thing is the tapestried walls. Thirdly, that all the bubble dresses that the women are wearing creepily match the tapestries. (Earth tones, so hot right now!) Fourthly: Good gravy, that's Anna Wintour! Wait, is it? It is! And that's when we leaned on our table, ill-advisedly, and the matte black china plates crashed to the ground. From her perch at the banquette, Anna Wintour did not look impressed. Neither did our date. House music gently played in the background. "Oh God," we thought, "is this what disaster sounds like? A crash and then some some synthesizers?"

Today, a document of a meeting that should have happened decades ago: Joyce Wadler meets New York painter Hunt Slonem. At first blush, the article reads like an exquisite corpse.