Hannah Bronfman had the right idea front row at Betsey Johnson’s Monday night runway show. The socialite sported a studded bustier and hot pink tutu with flat black leather boots. “Fashion week’s been all right, not too hectic. Only really been going to friends’ shows, so….” Bronfman was cut off as a swell of bodies rushed forth, forcing her into the arms of Arden Wohl.
First came camera-phone-wielding fans, shouting, then actual photographers, and then headpiece-wearing p.r. people wielding clipboards and walkie-talkies, and then tufts of a robin’s-egg-blue Afro were visible. Nicki Minaj had arrived, entourage in tow.
Minaj was front row next to Jessica Hart, Johnny Weir and Ellie Goulding, and directly across from Angela Simmons and Peaches Geldof.
“I love Betsey. This is Betsey.” Minaj said, gesturing to her floral corset and layers of tulle. “She’s even using some of my music.” (Sure enough, the show opened with a track of Minaj rapping over “Foxy Lady,” and Betsey took her signature cartwheel to “Where Them Girls At.”) Had she been enjoying fashion week? “Sure. Everyone’s been so nice,” Minaj laughed as Nigel Barker scooted over to kiss her hello and express his excitement for “next week.”
Her male escort, who wore a timepiece emblazoned with diamonds and a long gold chain over a white shirt, was in the midst of explaining how they’d felt about Carolina Herrera’s show that morning when he was interrupted by a wandering paparazzo, who wanted to know if he was Minaj’s manager. “No,” he said. “I’m just a DJ. I’m just here.” He pulled out his phone and stared at a photo of a small white pit-bull puppy until the photographer left. “I just lied to that guy, about every single thing,” the man said. With that the lights went down.