WATERMILL, N.Y. — If there’s one thing Hamptons-goers excel at, it’s shopping. And what better place to flex their checkbooks than at Super Saturday, the annual behemoth designer garage sale, where 100 percent of the proceeds go to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund. Along with the kiddie section, where the entertainment ranged from a carousel and Ferris wheel to decorating Old Navy jeans, the 2,500-strong crowd, including Heidi Klum and Christy Turlington Burns, had plenty to keep them occupied as 200 vendors ranging from Perry Ellis and Sundari to LeSportSac and Assouline packed their booths with discounted goods.
Manolo Blahnik participated for the first time, although its merchandise was only for the early birds. (It donated 10 pairs of size 7s that sold immediately. No word on whether the intrepid shoe shopper who scooped up 33 pairs of Delmans landed a pair of Blahniks, too.) Kelly Klein and Helen Schifter faced off over a yellow Miguelina dress, until, that is, Schifter graciously surrendered. “It will look better on Kelly,” deferred Schifter, who instead scored at Donna Karan’s vintage boutique, where she snapped up a dress for less than $100.
This story first appeared in the August 3, 2004 issue of WWD. Subscribe Today.
Even Rodney Yee, Karan’s famously Zen yoga teacher, got in on the shopping madness. “We’re redoing our wardrobes,” he said as he shouldered several bags of his and girlfriend Colleen Saidman’s purchases.
When all was said and done, $1.3 million was raised for the OCRF. (Beth Rudin Dewoody raised $20,000 for the education programs at the Whitney Museum the following day at an intimate trunk show of Decades vintage clothing and jewelry designers at her Southampton home.)
Later on Saturday, at Robert Wilson’s China Moon-themed benefit for the Watermill Center, the Chinese artists-in-residence orchestrated a Zen-like entrance, as guests including Candace Bushnell, Darren Star, Christophe de Menil and Amanda Hearst arrived at the party by walking through a giant red ring for good luck before heading to check out the performance art, which consisted of men in Asian-inspired uniforms rotating on oversized pedestals.
“Last year, they were naked,” swooned Debbie Bancroft. “Talk about needing a fan! How do you take home performance art anyway?” she asked.
It all had David Lee Roth, one of the more random cocktail-swilling guests, theorizing about transcendence, Hamptons-style.
“Wanna hear my favorite poem? I wrote it. ‘Well,’” he paused, “‘the sky should know by now.’” He let out a giant cackle. “That’s what the Hamptons are all about. Cantina Buddhism, my friend, cantina Buddhism.”