Back in NYC last night, the famed Hotel Chelsea (home to Kerouac, Dylan Thomas, Andy Warhol superstars; where Sid allegedly did Nancy in) hosted a rocked-out Hayden-Hartnett show in room 219.
Girls decked head to toe in HH accessories lazed about on beds, ate bonbons in the bathroom, played Ouija, and stuffed themselves silly with candy and cheese puffs (wait, that was us). It was like settling into a hallucinogenic trip (or so we hear — we’d never touch the stuff): models attached to one another by long, thick braids; an archer with a bow in the corner; a mantel crowded with vintage doll heads, jewelry, and a fine display of shoes for fall.
We loved the dark, rich color palette (plum, black, smoky gray, burgundy) and studded wallets, bags, and cuff bracelets. It was sensory overload in the very best way. Pass the plate of donuts and gigantic bottle of vodka, would ya?