The Kaiser following his triumphant Chanel resort show in the Versailles gardens

That ole pile of bricks? Behold, Versailles.

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Tourist fact about Versailles: the famed fountains that surround the gardens of the palace of the French kings of yester-centuries would only be turned on only when the royals strode by them. So it made sense that they were turned on as fashion’s king, Karl Lagerfeld, strode by for the bow of his triumphant resort show for Chanel. And, just as significantly, shut off as he and Chanel’s VIPs (Tilda Swinton, Sam Taylor Wood and so forth) made their way down to a specially constructed tent in another part of the gardens.

The show itself, which debuted on a ridiculously glorious spring day, was utterly fabulous. It was Lagerfeld’s commentary on a modern 18^th century rebellion, which this palace’s most famous former occupant, Marie Antoinette, knew a thing or two about before she lost her head. So we saw beautiful 18th century silhouettes cut in denim, and quintessential Coco Chanel shapes atop metallic creepers platform shoes made popular by the Punks in Swinging London. Indeed, the hint of bad girl British youth culture was a big theme, from the music (MIA’s lyrics “Live Fast, Die Young” set the tone early on) to the casting: Cara Delevingne opening, a strong appearance from Georgia May Jagger (it was my favorite look: couture quality applique strips of fabric, plastic and sequins worked into separates), and later in the evening a performance from Alice Dellal’s band Thrush Metal.

As with everything Chanel, no expense was spared in the continued festivities, so there were gallons of champagne and soccer sized truffles. Dellal performed as the sun fell behind the tips of the perfectly pruned trees, and I found Karl afterward strolling to his personal golf cart. His favorite part of the show? His references not to Antoinette, but to Madame de Barrie, a consort of Louis XIV, who he’d dress up in men’s clothing. “She was the most beautiful woman in France, and the first fashion icon,” he said. “Marie Antoinette didn’t like her.” It was a show inspired by the first and meant for the next.

Tilda Swinton and Haider Ackerman before the show

Alice Dellal, when she was still dressed like a lady. (Later she ditched the embroidery for lace when she performed with her band, Thrash Metal.)

Harper’s Bazaar’s creative director and Visionaire founder Stephen Gan with the legendary Lynn Wyatt

Jon Kortajarena, who walked the runway holding my new favorite Chanel accessory: a quilted and monogrammed water pitcher, with Karl’s favorite boy (and fellow St. Louis native) Brad Kroenig

Two beautiful flowers in the Versailles gardens: Cara Delevingne and Georgia May Jagger

Trans-Channel beauties: The English rose Laura Bailey and the French, fabulous Caroline de Maigret

Alice Dellal and her band Thrush Metal performing at the afterparty. NOTE: The singer shaved the Chanel logo into the back of his head. Major.

This is how I found Vogue’s Andre Leon Talley after the walk from the show venue to the afterparty, on the other side of the Versailles gardens.

UPDATE: A video of Alice Dellal rocking out with her band Thrush Metal at the show’s afterparty elsewhere in the gardens. Look for cameo’s from her pals Georgia May and Cara.

And finally, the fiercest bitch I found at the Chanel show at Versailles. Isn’t she cute?

Hahn Bin at his bow, which solicited a standing ovation from most and complete silence from some

Hahn Bin after his performance. He had just received congratulations from Lou Reed.

I’m not entirely sure what happened last night. It started out as a normal night in Alice Tulley Hall at Lincoln Center. A handsome cellist called Edward Elgar played for about an hour, then a masterful pianist by the name of Sergei Prokofiev took the stage for his own set. And then, for the third and final act of the 51st Young Concert Artists Series Gala Concert, Hahn Bin, a Korean violin virtuoso, took the stage draped in a giant American flag. He had died his hair blonde, put in blue contact lenses, and had painted a tattoo on his legs, which were exposed beneath the flag. In a flamboyant manner he whipped off said flag, revealing a teeny tiny denim vest that read “Faggot Freak” in pink block letters with matching shorts, and produced an empty can of Budweiser, which he set on the ground next to him. This was all just the pre-performance, mind you.

When he finally picked up his violin, the next 45 minutes were some of the fastest, most impressive playing that had graced the auditorium. It was a sensation too. Unlike most classic performers, he moved all over the stage, even climbing a set of stairs that lead no where, only to a more narcissistic vantage. In the second part of his performance he faced the stage and let fake blood pour from his mouth (how long did he have that in there?), and then whipped off his denim vest to reveal a now-blood-stained white tank top. For his finale, he unfurled a rainbow flag from the back of his shirt and tied to his wrists so that when he played he looked like a flying gay Dracula. As Brian Phillips, the founder of Black Frame, the PR firm that represents Hahn, put it: “Tchaikovsky’s first trip to Stonewall.”

The whole production was remarkable, and completely unforgettable. To say that it was also controversial is an understatement. There were definitely some people unimpressed with his modern take on classical music; the chubby, old man behind me in an ill-fitted tuxedo actually booed at some points. But what cannot be ignored is that the hall was packed, and there were young people, perhaps for the first time in recent history. Whether or not you like the theatrics, you can’t ignore his talent and the fact that he is putting new eyes on an art form that most young eyes have no desire looking at. I loved it. But then again, it wasn’t the first time I’ve seen Hahn Bin’s unique sense of flamboyance. I leave you with a performance that he gave us at Vmagazine two years ago.

It was the perfect antidote to the extravagance and production of the Met gala the night before. On Tuesday night, the gracious and gorgeous Samantha Boardman hosted a little birthday party for one of my literary heroes, the writer and Vanity Fair contributor Bob Colacello. When I first moved to New York, Bob’s 1990 memoir, ‘Holy Terror: Andy Warhol Close Up,’ was one of the most riveting reads I had come across. It chronicled his time first meeting Warhol, then being taken into his inner circle and becoming the editor of Interview magazine, and the downward spirals and social swirls that followed the artist to his untimely death. If you haven’t read it, you simply must. (There’s good Studio 54 gossip in there too.) It’s been a pleasure to meet Bob, and hear firsthand so many of the social histories that this city is built on. But my favorite touch from Boardman’s party was the parting gift: cookies with Colacello’s Warhol portrait on them. I took two; one to eat and one to keep.

Shala Monroque, Cara Delevingne, Karlie Kloss and Joan Smalls

Jack McCollough and Isabel Lucas

Michael Polish and Kate Bosworth with Lazaro Hernandez

As anyone with any interest in the fashion industry can tell you, Monday night was the Met Gala in New York City. It’s considered the East Coast Oscars because every Hollywood heavyweight comes out to wine, dine and celebrate the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute in their most ridiculous frocks. (I’m sure you have already, but look on just about any website to find pictures of the likes of Beyonce, Justin Timberlake, Carey Mulligan, Anna Wintour, Miuccia Prada and the rest of fashiondom.) The gala is only the first part of the evening, with the rest of the evening — in the case of Prada that meant two afterparties — being just as fun and fabulous. Prada’s festivities started at the Ukranian Embassy, conveniently located a few blocks from the Met. It was wall-to-wall glamour, with Alicia Keys belting out on a piano in one room and then Azealia Banks rapping from a windowsill in another room.  Later, the action moved down to the Standard Hotel’s Boom Boom Room. I have to be honest with you: Between the performances, the people and the sheer glamour, I completely forgot to take that many pictures. I managed to squeeze of these three shots of some of my favorite fashion people, but then the dance floor was calling.

When I was a little boy growing up in Missouri, my mother would have to travel to cities in Europe for business and come back home with stories about what all the people were wearing there. She would always tell me how much more stylish and modern they were there. (She was comparing it to St. Louis, mind you. So she was right.) I was thinking about her and her stories on Thursday when I traveled to Denmark for the Copenhagen Fashion Summit, which was a conference put on by the Nordic Fashion Association and the Danish Fashion Institute to help foster the ideas of sustainable fashion. Turns out that no only are they more stylistically advanced, but also more environmentally advanced too.

The summit was wildly informative and extremely proactive. I had met Eva Kruse, the woman behind nearly every fashion happening in this part of the world, in New York, and she has a passion for changing the way that the international fashion industry creates and sells its wares. So when she asked me to come, I knew it wouldn’t be a bunch of hokus pokus. . She brought in a slew of participants, including Rick Ridgeway from Patagnoia, Bruno Pieters from Honesty by, PPR’s Holly Dublin and, perhaps my favorite speaker, Galahad Clark of Terra Planas, all of whom can be considered sustainable fashion experts. They’re the ones that are encouraging people not to buy less, but to buy smarter; and not to use cheap design, but better designing.

It was a quick trip. Only 24 hours. But the Danish people are not only environmentally aware, they’re also extremely polite and generous. So we spent the day talking about sustainable fashion, and then evening being fashionably entertained.

Copenhagen is a beautiful city, and so are it’s inhabitants, all blond, lithe and blue eyed. It was, according to those who lived there, an unseasonably beautiful day.

Presiding over the festivities was Mary, the Crown Princess of Denmark, who sat across the runway from me during the Design Challenge fashion show. (Susanne Rutzou was the ultimate winner.) I only saw half the show because I was admiring the sheer poise of this woman. She was born to be a princess. Which is somewhat ironic since she is actually from Australia.

Erin O’Connor and I were sat next to each other at the show. Fashion icon. (Funny story: She missed her speech during the conference because she was accidentally locked in a broom closet.)

The newly constructed opera house in Copenhagen

One of the most powerful moments of the presentation was when a 100 design students from all over the world presented their goals and ideas for creating a more sustainable fashion industry. It gave us hope.

Eva Kruse, the woman behind all of the festivities, with Jan Olesen. At the end of the conference, Eva took the stage and gave a rousing speech, encouraging us all to think more about the psychology behind what we were. She was like a chic fashion Evita!

Dinner was held in Copenhagen’s old stock exchange, which was built from 1619-1640

The actress Connie Nielson (remember her from Gladiator?), who was the moderator at the festival and an energetic, gorgeous supporter of its mission, with Noona Smith-Peterson at the cocktail hour

The dinner menu was, umm, interesting. It was provided by the Nordic Food Lab, established by the head show of Rene Redzepi, the (very handsome) head chef of Noma, which is the most important restaurant in Copenhagen. (It’s booked for months and has been voted ‘The Best Restaurant in the World’ three years in a row.) The dinner course was surreal: It was not uncommon for the courses to come in test tubes like these.

Last week, Cartier held a swanky party in their uptown manse for their new Juste un Clou collection. Afterward, they completely transformed Skylight Studios into a late night discoteque. The highlight of which was a performance from London’s newest dance queen, Rita Ora. (Beyonce and Jay-Z, the latter of which is a major fan and signed the star to Roc Nation, snuck in for the show.) After she went on, I snuck back for a little gushing.

Derek Blasberg: Was it true that it was your first night performing in New York?
Rita Ora: Yes, and I loved it. The crowd was really enthusiastic. What a great party!

DB: Did you know that Beyonce and Jay-Z were in the audience when you performed?
RO: Yeah, it was truly amazing that they were able to come. A big moment for me. They both came by to say hello before the show, which made me really nervous!

DB: I bet!
RO: Especially as I had [a cover of Destiny’s Child hit song] ‘Say My Name’ in the set! I wanted to perform my best for them.

DB: Did you do ‘Say My Name’ because you knew she was coming?
RO: No, that song is already in my set because she’s one of my main inspirations.

DB: Speaking about inspirations, who would you say are your biggest influences?
RO: My dad has had a huge collection of music, and all sorts. A lot of things inspire me: Eric Claption, BB King, and then my Pop influences too, like Gwen Stefani.

DB: Where did you grow up?
RO: I grew up in West London, near Portobello. I love it there. That’s where my favorite vintage shops and restaurants are too. When I was young, I was writing a lot and singing in bars. I got spotted by a scout in London, who introduced me to Roc Nation – and the rest has been an amazing journey!

DB: You told a nice story on stage about how your grannie gave you a Cartier ring for your 18th birthday. Do you know what ring it is?
RO: No, my mum gave it to me. I am not sure what the name of the ring is. I guess I’ll need to find out! What I like about Cartier is they’re this old brand, but they keep it current for us kiddies.

DB: It’s true. The party was a mix of the old and the young, the stiffs and the loose. I liked your look on stage. How would you describe your personal style?
RO: Thank you! My outfit was Jean Paul Gautier, who I think is amazing. I think my style is eclectic, and I like mixing different things together: from vintage Chanel to Air Jordans! I think my style is a lot like my music.

DB: Did you do any shopping in New York?
RO: Unfortunately, no. I was really busy on this trip to do anything. But I love shopping in New York, particularly the vintage shops in Greenwich Willage are my favorites!

DB: How long were you in town?
RO: Less than a week. But I love it here.

DB: Well, then do you promise to come back soon and sing again?
RO: Yes. I would love to.

And just to slightly humiliate myself and my date for the evening: Here’s me and Karlie Kloss attempting to break it down during Rita’s gig

This was a sunny, glorious week in New York City. I’m not sure if I should thank Mother Nature or Global Warming for that, but the days were brisk, warm and bright. The weather was truly inspiring, which is one of the reasons myself and a couple of friends played hooky on Friday morning, avoided the office, and hopped the 2 train out to the Brooklyn Museum to see the Keith Haring show. Making it more special was that we ended up tagging along with a kindergarten class who had also made the pilgrimage to the show, and thus re-saw all of Harig’s bright, festive cartoon drawings through the new eyes of a child. An unexpected treat.

Several of Haring’s video works were in the show, which I had never seen before and left a lasting impression. I had never seen at the speed at which Haring would create these works, which is probably an obvious hallmark of his work given that his pieces are often littered with drips and obviously quick brush strokes, and the fact that graffiti was such an important part of his artistic discourse. Another thing that put a smile on my face was a small room in the exhibit dedicated entirely to Haring’s nighttime proclivities. His was a different time in art, when clubs and galleries were often the same thing, a pristine, innocent time before Twitter and cell phone cameras. Keith was a club rat and also one of the most important artists of his time, which are, I think, mutually exclusive terms in this day in age.

Ultimately, at the end of our tour, the feeling that I ultimately left with was the same one that made me like his work in the first place: I was happy. Even when attending to serious issues (like loneliness, death, chaos and Christianity), the very nature of the cartoon drawings provided the arch of amusement. In the notebooks that he meticulously kept, which were also on display and one of my favorite features of this show, it showed that Haring was at heart a very funny young man. The artist died of AIDS related complications when he was only 31. But his legacy has lasted a lot longer.

The large scale work welcoming visitors to the exhibit on the museum’s fifth floor

I have seen many of Harings work, both in public and private settings. But something that I hadn’t been too familiar with was his meticulous notebook-ing. On display in the show were many of his private doodles, which revealed both a serious artist and a seriously funny young man. The below series was one of my favorites. They’re all phallic drawings.

Also in the show were flyers for his art shows and dance parties that had survived the past three decades. This one was my favorite, with it’s allusion to Gloria Vanderbilt and the line: “An Excuse For A Party.” In these days of alcohol sponsors and crappy red carpets, it made me wish I hadn’t missed the days of anonymous New York clubbing.

Yes, I know it is complete sacrilege to include one of my own meager attempts at illustration in the same post that includes the work of the ultimate artistic illustrator Haring, but I couldn’t help myself. When I came home from the museum I found a couple of Lancome’s Rouge in Love lipsticks and started . But maybe Haring wouldn’t mind. After all, isn’t all art supposed to be inspiring? (But then again, maybe Haring can’t take all the credit. I had just watched a RuPaul’s Drag Race marathon, which is a show that often uses lipstick as a marker, not to mention I’ve been in a doodling mood after my electronic attempts at artistry at Paris fashion week.)

Apologies for the pun. I couldn’t help myself! And I hope that the farcical title of this recounting of my wonderful few days in Thailand don’t discredit the long journey and inspiring trip I’ve just came back from. Film on the Rocks was a festival that debuted this weekend at the Six Senses resort in Yao Noi, Thailand, spearheaded on the direction of Tilda Swinton and Chomwan Weeraworawit. There were screenings, artist workshops, screenings and lots of local rum. “It was all completely by chance, or perhaps it was fate.” That’s how Weeraworawit sums up the festival coming together. With beautiful scenery, inspired films and fabulous members of the cinema and art industry, I’m inclined to agree with her that there was some sort of divine intervention. Weeraworawit finalized the concept of the festival when she collaborated with the Oscar-winning indie-cinema icon Swinton when they discovered they had a mutual affection with the Thai filmmaker Apichatpong Weerasethakul. That was back in November, 2010; a year and a half later, and after moving dates around floods and filming schedules, they called on the services of the likes of magazine publisher Jefferson Hack, jewelry designer Waris Ahluwalia, actress Chloe Sevigny, photographer Ryan McGinley, artists Tom Sachs and Rikrit Tiravanija to cull together a group of like-minded and enlightened fans of spiritual films and sandy beaches. “I wanted to create a space, a physical one, in Thailand, away from everything where different worlds can collide,” Weeraworawit explains. “I was interested in bringing different disciplines together to see how they can interact, to start a dialogue and create new things.” Perhaps Tilda was feeling more sensual. On the first night, she implored us to participate with her on an “orgy of memories.” I was only too inclined to fulfill her prophecy, as was everyone else. And now, without further ado, are some of my personal snapshots from a truly memorable experience.

Chloe Sevigny, wearing one of her own Opening Ceremony creations, at a dinner on the beach

Famed and fabulous Paris-based fashion designer Haider Ackermann with the jewelry designer Waris at a dinner on Pradu Pier

Tilda Swinton, who helped organize the entire festival, with her boyfriend Sandro Kopp, on their way to dinner

The sunset on Pangha Bay

The magazine publisher Jefferson Hack and jewelry designer Delfina Fendi at a performance piece on Big Tree Island

Le Baron’s Andre with his girlfriend, the designer Annabelle Dexter-Jones, at dinner at Six Senses

The artist Tom Sachs, who conducted a fabulous workshop on To Do lists and screened two of his recent short films, with his fiance Sara Hoover

The artist Ryan McGinley with his longtime friend and occasional collaborator Chloe Sevigny relaxing on beach chairs

Our wondrous mistress of ceremonies, Chomwan Weeraworawit, on the dance floor after the first night of films and festivities

One of fashion’s biggest multitaskers, Opening Ceremony founder and Kenzo designer Humberto Leon, with his boyfriend Patrick Wilson, at dinner on the beach

Christopher Bollen, Interview’s editor at large and the writer of the recently published novel The Lightning People, and me at dinner on Pradu Pier

The Thai actor Ananda Everingham, who incited a riot when he showed up at an outdoor screening, taking his seat to watch a Thai horror movie

MORE PICTURES OF TILDA, CHLOE, RYAN, THE AMAZING SITES OF THAILAND AND MORE AFTER THE JUMP.

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They were too much fun to stop! After biding my time before shows, after shows, and (when they were particularly bad) during shows in New York and in London, I continued my professional doodling habit in Paris. With the help of my handy, dandy new Samsung Galaxy Note, behold my handheld perspective from the shows.

Two of my fashion week buddies: Karlie Kloss and Cara Delevingne. I’m not really sure what the point of this party was, but they were giving out leis. And as anyone will tell you, I love an accessory.

I bumped into the legendarily lovely Liya at the Givenchy after party at L’Arc

Some people come to Paris for the shopping, or for the sites, or for the museums. Me? I’m a big fan of the cheese products.

Leigh Lezark is always very generous with her headwear. And thank goodness for that.

Natalia Vodianova celebrated 30 years of being beautiful while in Paris with a party at her preferred Paris address, the Hotel Bristol.

I <3 Sky

Nicky Hilton was my favorite unexpected guest at Paris fashion week. Here she is perched at the Valentino show, the only PFW outing she made this week.

Chanel is always very good about sending flowers. Which is a nice way to be welcomed to Paris.

THAT’S NOT ALL! MORE DOODLES AFTER THE JUMP!

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It’s almost impossible for me to believe that fashion month, those glorious four weeks that begin in New York and end in Paris and set all the trends for the following season, have come to an end. (And I’m not saying that just because I’m swathed in a mosquito net in the middle of Thailand right now. More on that later.) The collections ended in Paris on Wednesday. And they ended on a high note. There were fabulous shows (Valentino’s romantic black leather comes to mind, as does the extravaganza that was the Louis Vuitton presentation), and fabulous parties (Dasha Zhukova held a small, sweet launch for the second issue of Garage magazine, Kanye West had go-karts to fete his sophomore fashion effort). But before we get into all the trends that we should be thinking about next fall — think pink, winter white, black leather, and so on — I’m going to take a few minutes to look back at the fun moments I had in Paris.

First, a little video of Alicia Keys tribute to Riccardo Tisci at the Givenchy afterparty.

The glamorous girls with Giambattisti Valli at his Moncler dinner at Caviar Kaspia. When dinner ended, they cleared the tables and brought out a DJ. The elegant dinner went from VIP rave faster than I could blink and eye!

Sarah Jessica Parker, who looked really lovely, even up close, backstage before the Louis Vuitton show

Nicky Hilton on the patio of the Paris Ritz, which caught fire just after the Paris fashion week festivities. (Thank goodness. Where else would the rich people have eaten?)

Arizona Muse and Cara Delevingne at the Garage magazine party

Alicia Keys with Riccardo Tisci at the Givenchy after party

Natalia Vodianova at the Bristol Hotel for a birthday party celebrating her 30th

Karlie Kloss, who was my most frequent date and quite possibly my favorite person in Paris, flanked by Jonathan Saunders and Craig McDean at Natalia’s birthday

The lovely and amazing Lauren Santo Domingo with Eugenie Niarchos at a party Santo Domingo hosted at home for her website, Moda Operandi, and the British Fashion Council

Lily Donaldson and my St. Louis sister Karlie Kloss

Me with Carine Roitfeld at the party for Garage magazine. I’m looking forward to Carine’s magazine’s party one day too!

Two of the chicest women I have ever met, who just happen to be related: The seminal romance novelist Danielle Steele, with her daughter Samantha Traina

Glee’s Dianna Agron on the set of the Louis Vuitton show’s train

The King of Paris: Marc Jacobs. Here is the designer amidst the media blitz that followed his fabulous Louis Vuitton show on the morning of the last day of Paris fashion week

The living legend Jean Paul Goude, who has one of the most fantastic and inspirational exhibits currently at the Louvre. If you’re in Paris, go see it today!

Three of the chicest women in Paris, with one of the nicest young men: Bianca Brandolini, Nina Flohr, Dasha Zhukova and Theo Wenner

Fashion’s favorite footballer, Hide Nakata, with Balmain’s wonderboy designer, Olivier Rousteing

Two of my favorite dance partners on Planet Earth (who aren’t so hard on the eyes either): Joan Smalls and Lily Donaldson

The lovely Liya Kebede and W magazine’s Edward Enninful

The #PFW version of Who Wore It Better? Leigh Lezark and Anna Dello Russo in matching Givenchy looks at Riccardo’s party

Me with a fellow Midwestern friend RJ King and the absolutely dashing Dasha Zhukova. Until next season!