4:51 p.m.: On the red carpet, hundreds of photographers vying for a good position. I’m in no rush. I’m one of the lucky few with inside access.
6:04 p.m.: Going up the elevator to take my position at the receiving line. Ka clump, ka clump, ka clump. The sound of my broken shoe as I gallop across the marble floors of the galleries. Uh-oh. It’s getting worse.
6:06 p.m.: Nice background this year in the gallery with ancient nude statues all around, the type with the you-know-whats cut off. Billy Farrell is trying to pose Anna Wintour, “We can’t have you with those things.” “Good call,” she laughs.
6:28 p.m.: Aerin Lauder opens Bradley Cooper’s jacket to inspect his white tie. Suki Waterhouse, Bradley’s girlfriend, arrives. I’m busy fiddling with my iPhone and miss the shot of them kissing hello. I do get a few of them together though.
6:47 p.m.: As she approaches the receiving line, Sarah Jessica Parker is stopped short by Andy Cohen’s foot on her train.
7:08 p.m.: “This is our first,” the Public School guys say. I say, “You always remember your first.”
7:32 p.m.: Rita Ora looking superhot. My choice for page one.
7:33 p.m.: “I’m a newcomer,” Mario Testino kids as he snaps his way in.
7:58 p.m. “With two hot men,” I say as I pop Gisele Bündchen and Tom Brady with the nude statue’s torso behind them.
8:01 p.m.: My vote for best dressed man, Johnny Depp. And best swagger.
8:03 p.m.: My footwear malfunction is getting worse.
8:07 p.m.: “Lets get one with your girlfriend,” I say to Leonard Lauder and Carolyn Murphy.
8:17 p.m.: Sweet Met Ball moment. SJP crouches down, takes a break from receiving to drink some water. Her huge gown puddles around her. Perfect.
8:19 p.m.: Photog to Emma Stone, “Let’s see a little leg.” “OK. But not all of it,” she sasses back.
8:33 p.m.: Someone asks Taylor Swift what she’s wearing. “Shame and embarrassment,” she says with a wink.
8:35 p.m.: Kimye — that’s Kim Kardashian and Kanye West to the uninitiated — form their own receiving line at a doorway inside the exhibit. Kanye takes a sip of whiskey and hands the glass back to Zoë Kravitz.
8:37 p.m.: Sarah Silverman is screaming, “Kanye! Kanye! Kanye!” He ignores her and keeps walking.
8:38 p.m.: Olivia Munn = Olivia YUM.
11:04 p.m.: “Michelle [Obama] kept it real,” says Rachel Roy looking gorgeous in her regal gold headband about this morning’s ribbon cutting. “She even talked about the difficult fashion business, which I really appreciated.”
11:15 p.m.: “It’s not open bar. How tacky,” snips someone. I agree I ain’t paying $20 for a beer.
11:26 p.m.: Trippy pic of Lupita.
11:28 p.m.: Beyoncé and Jay Z arrive to a lightning storm of flashes.
11:34 p.m.: “Don’t Be Cruel” by Elvis plays as Daphne Guinness poses like a weirdo.
11:49 p.m.: So cute. Jessica Alba smiling and chewing gum.
12:37 a.m.: I’m hanging with Gilles Mendel. Just as Beyoncé and Jay Z are leaving I try to take a shot and she puts her hand in my lens. OK! Then Bradley Cooper enters and hides behind his GF to avoid my camera. What is going on here?
12:39 a.m.: Stink eye from Bradley Cooper as I approach to capture him getting his groove on.
12:42 a.m.: Kristen Stewart is here. Nice, new hair color. Pinkish I think. Move in closer to get a few candids and she spots me and flips me the bird. Snap! snap! I just shrug, smile and she smiles, too, and puts her hand up. High five.
12:50 a.m.: “Get a pic of DiCaprio and Naomi Campbell,” I’m told. Hmmm, well, sorry Leo. Flash! Flash!
12:53 a.m.: I blast Sean Penn and Charlize Theron as they breeze in. Gilles is witnessing the entire thing. “It’s like a video game,” I say.
12:54 a.m.: Nailed it! Candid shot of Anne Hathaway and Diane Kruger on the sofa in their red dresses.
1:26 a.m.: I get Eddie Borgo to look through the round window of one of the doors.
1:43 a.m.: One more loop around the party. Great dancing shots. Really interesting photograph of some girls in the red light in the stairwell.