Signing a confidentiality agreement is what one does, I imagine, when one gives little Suri Cruise a blowout or sleeps with Leonardo DiCaprio. I signed mine in Milan at dinner for Dolce & Gabbana's new makeup line. The big reveal would be the celebrity "face" of the brand: everyone around me guessed Penelope Cruz, Beyonce, Madonna; darkly, my mind wandered to a corseted Ali Lohan.
We signed during pre-dinner cocktails in a lobby swarming with glamorous people wearing black, as well as tuxedoed male model-waiters asking mysterious Italian questions ("Mm-hmm!', I' answered, lamely, every time).A I also met either Dolce or Gabbana (I can't remember--I was TIRED, okay?, )--who was predictably tan, dapper, and fantastic-smelling.
Finally, we entered a grand banquet hall hung with--TADA!--massive posters of Scarlett Johansson--the "face". Half of the guests (including the Lanvin-clad French editors meant to be seated on either side of me) ignored Scarlett completely and instead charged for their place cards so they could upgrade to chicer tables. The food was unmemorable, but luckily, fashion editors don't eat. (JOKING!) (Sort of.)
The next morning I flew to Rome for the Gucci party. More on that (and meeting the ridiculously chic Frida Giannini) tomorrow. Ciao!
—Cat Marnell, associate beauty editor
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