Springtime in Paris is all about tulips, asparagus and parties, and there sure have been a lot of parties in the last week. Pierre Passebon gave one at his gallery for Kim Moltzer’s garden furniture — and that same night, L’Oreal’s George Klarsfeld hosted a wild party at the Palace to celebrate the relaunch of Drakkar Noir.
Across town, Atalanta de Castellane threw a sit-down dinner for 40 — including Jean d’Yturbe, Isabelle and Hubert d’Ornano, Maryll and Bernard Lanvin — to celebrate the engagement of her niece, Victoire de Castellane (Karl Lagerfeld’s assistant), and Paul-Emmanuel Reiffers. Dinner was followed by some wild dancing, and no one could get over how Victoire’s delicate Chanel chiffon dress survived the conga line her uncle Gilles Dufour started.
Chanel or not, chiffon was too flimsy for Homero Machry and Frederic Beigbeder’s new S&M night at the club Queen, where the young and the restless all arrived in leather equipped with whips and handcuffs.
Ivan de la Fressange camped it up with Balthus’s daughter Harumi while Heini Thyssen’s son Lorne watched. The Bastone girls, Ingrid and Anne, even allowed themselves to be handcuffed to their friend Allissia Weil – though actor Edouard Baer had to snap the chain in half when the key got lost. “Just call me Hercules,” he said.
Then, to celebrate Gaby van Zuylen’s book “Tout les Jardins du Monde”) (“All the Gardens in the World”), just published by Gallimard, antiquaire Jean-Paul Baugard threw a party in his smart shop, Chez Garden-Jardin. Van Zuylen was joined by her daughters Vanessa and Alexandra, and she swapped garden notes with Patrice Fustier — the power behind the Courson flower show where Parisians who know, like Loulou de Waldner, buy their plants.
Pamela Harriman has caught spring fever, too. When she greeted the 150-odd guests at the French Heritage Relief Gala, she was animated as ever, wearing chunks of emeralds around her neck and a Bill Blass jacket. Once everyone had arrived, she began one of her famous Winston Churchillian speeches, only to trip over the name ‘Sainte Genevieve’. . . and then start giggling. Pam-Pam giggling?