This week I found myself in New York, testing the limits of my cool, an quality of which is not as boundary-less as it might first seem. I was fortunate enough to attend the Museum of Modern Art Film Benefit: A tribute to Tim Burton. One quick glance to the guest list where I spotted my boyfriend Johnny Depp and I knew the event would be golden and I would be required to look hot.
And even after the event, I stand by that reasoning. But Johnny Depp was only one celebrity among the many who showed up to support Tim Burton and MOMA and they were definitely outnumbered by the throngs of cool people who came to see and be seen.
It was strange to have Patti Smith and later the Olsen twins walk by me. I felt like I was suddenly transported into an issue of Star magazine. I am not familiar with the life of celebrities. They are people who create art I love and on whom I can have crushes and read about and comment on. I think now I have a new emotion to pull from when I look on upon them: pity.
The benefit at MOMA was put on by Johnny Depp. And yet, the only way he could pass through the crowds to go outside for a smoke was if escorted by security. Helena Bonham Carter was bored and lonely. The Olsen twins looked petrified to walk through the throngs of people. Is that what a night out is for celebrities? Work? Being gawked at and thrust into uncomfortable situations?
And don’t get me wrong. This new awareness of how hard things must be for them, even with their bags of money, didn’t stop my from standing at the bottom of a stairwell where I knew folks has to pass through to go from the VIP area to the exit. I stood, gawked and delighted in the list of people I saw. But I felt guilty about it. And it has made me say only nice things about everyone I saw (not that I could possibly have anything bad to say about my boyfriend).
And maybe brag a little about walking inches from the Sexiest Man Alive.
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