Much like death and taxes, the paparazzi crush around the celebrities at Marc Jacobs’ show is inevitable. This season, Jennifer Lopez and Victoria Beckham’s hand-in-hand entrance set off the frenzy, leaving a shattered Winona Ryder in their wake. “I think it’s good for people to get toughed around,” said Beckham nonchalantly.

“I’ve never seen it so crazy. I’m just so overwhelmed,” said Ryder. “It’s like a mosh pit. I was getting pushed against the wall — I was basically like Helen Keller,” she said, referring to the blinding flashes and the hoard of reporters who beset her with questions. “But it’s worth it. Marc’s my guy.”

This story first appeared in the September 10, 2008 issue of WWD. Subscribe Today.

Becki Newton gladly avoided the madness. “If you come in after Jennifer Lopez, no one really cares,” she said. “And that’s fine with me.”

Also perched front row were Sofia Coppola, Kelly Osbourne, Michael Pitt, Elijah Wood, Martha Stewart, Kirsty Hume and Donovan Leitch and Perry Farrell.

Afterwards, the guardsmen at the 69th Regiment Armory tried to tempt the fashion crowd to come upstairs for $5 beers, but many opted instead for the after party at the Greenwich Hotel. Recently, Jacobs’ post-show soirees have left guests wanting, but this year the energy was back — complete with revelers on the dance floor going wild to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.” They didn’t seem to mind that just a few feet away on the patio, VIPs — including Coppola, Kirsten Dunst, Natasha Lyonne, Rachel Feinstein, Kim Gordon and Francine Prose — were being treated to a sit-down dinner served by uniformed staff, in full view of the rest of the party.

“This is bizarre, but I’m still going to stare,” said one member of the hoi polloi as she watched Jacobs and his friends being served their first course.

“This isn’t an elitist thing,’” insisted Robert Duffy, sitting next to Ryder. “If I had known they were going to do this, I wouldn’t have done it. But Marc and I haven’t eaten in 24 hours. I bet [the onlookers] have had breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

Which only gave partygoers more energy to push and shove their way onto the patio once security tried to clear it out. One woman, who had been seated at dinner, tried to make her way back after returning from the bathroom, but security wouldn’t let her through. “But my purse is out there,” she cried.

“Get it tomorrow,” security barked. “You’re the only woman I know who goes to the restroom without her purse.”

Meanwhile, downtown, a very Euro crowd celebrated Boucheron’s 150th anniversary at South Street Seaport’s Pier 17. The evening began with a special performance of Spiegelworld’s latest show “Désir,” featuring contortionists, trapeze artists and male acrobats that had actress Melissa George in hysterics. “Those muscles…” she giggled.

After the performance, Vanessa Traina and Vladimir Restoin Roitfeld hosted a party on the dock.

Their friends, Fiona Scarry, Julia Restoin Roitfeld, Lily Donaldson and Lonneke Engel, were joined by a random mix of actors including David Schwimmer, Dylan MacDermott and Juliette Lewis. Richie took a breather in one of a few hammocks set up near a tented dance floor as DJ Santo Domingo spun tunes (it was not Andres, as many expected, but rather his nephew, Julio). Finally around 1 o’clock, Victoria Traina rallied friends to the Beatrice Inn, where Proenza Schouler’s Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez were celebrating their show.

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