The Party Crashers
I really feel for my PR brethren. Door girls and guys, iPads clutched in their well-manicured hands, must truly see some shit during NYFW. People use editors' names, claim to be Gigi's plus-one, argue that they received the confirmation email but their phone died. The only thing worse than this debacle is the crasher somehow talking their way in. There's always that one creepy dude we see at every party - no one knows who he is or how he got here, but he's drinking all the champagne.
[Photo via Reshot]
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