Recap from Karmaloop's Fashionably Late party at the Liberty Hotel with Clinton Sparks, Chester French, and the Boston Ballet


If Manhattan snots knew that Boston jams like it did at the Liberty Hotel last night, then a good number of Tribeca playboys would relocate to the Bean and chase the old money right off Beacon Hill. Then again; they might not understand how an event with such potential for pomposity can unfold without a lick of Zoolander pretension. Well, maybe a lick, but…

If you showed up fashionably late to the Karmaloop and Boston Ballet-sponsored Fashionably Late bash - then you were probably turned away. The guest list closed at nine, and not just so the doormen could be assholes; by the time ballerinas began working the wraparound balconies and scattered platforms, the room was on its way to melting into people soup.

Prisoners who once occupied the building now known as the Liberty would have thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle. Not only were the dancers fantastically attractive (the ballerina with the slamming gold triangular accessories has no clue how many men spilled drinks watching her perform) - they delivered a contemporarily styled show that not only fit the evening’s urban theme, but even defined it. If I were qualified to make such a statement, I’d say it was the sexiest marriage of pop and high culture since Salman met Padma.

Though the Ballet throwdown was impossible to outdo, Harvard-spawned pop rockers Chester French and globally propped DJ Clinton Sparks kept loud sparks flying until bedtime. They’re without-a-doubt two of Boston’s best known acts outside the city, and - as lame as it sounds - that star power presence lent a whiff of pride to the occasion, which didn’t need a hand from New York to execute this particularly profound jump-off.

Lastly, you probably want to hear about all the A-list guests, in which case you’ll be disappointed. There were likely busloads of Commonwealth celebs there, but I did an awful job of caring enough to recognize and bother them. I did, however, make a short list of sightings: Brick Records recoding artist Boycott Blues, fellow hip-hop scribe Marty Caballero from the Herald, and some dude who looks like Roadsteamer. If you’re famous and I didn’t notice, then you should have worn bigger, more obnoxious sunglasses. That said - even Ray Allen in Versace shades couldn’t have distracted most heads from the magically hip ambiance and acrobatics.

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