ADC Young Guns 7 Opening Party, ADC Gallery, New York
October 21, 2009
I love when I have the opportunity to not only splash myself with a little culture juice, but to also share these moments with you. Drink heavily, my friends, from the cup of the Art Directors Club (ADC) and do not fear the stereotypical connotations of such a club. Yes, the room was big enough for everyone's egos, and if they were huge, you wouldn't know it, but maybe that's because last night's event honored those young whippersnappers: the up-and-comers whose claws are only now being sharpened. Well, get ready you artsy fartsy fans of typography, graphic design, illustration, advertising & art direction, environmental design, film, animation & video, interactive design, and object design, I bring you the ADC Young Guns 7 (cue the "Magnificent Seven" theme song...)
Bubbling over with champagne from the "White Collar" party, I arrived sore-footed (dang heels) but ready to rock at the ADC Gallery. It's so pretty. It has all the possible pretense of an art gallery but all the snoot has been lipo'd out. The place is like a mini warehouse (because this is Manhattan), big and white, with elevated ceilings and floor-to-almost-ceiling windows at the entrance. The young art crowd was already piling up by the cigarette collector for their nicotine fix, which means they'd already eaten, or everyone was working a decent buzz. And then I remembered: the liquor sponsor was a Jose Cuervo Platino.
I entered to the ear candy of DJ's Luke and Zach Go Boating, who dressed the event up in the perfect disco Speedo. Every song made me wish the place was a little more crowded, that I had a bigger posse (oh wait, it was just me), and that everyone wanted to dance. Find them, book them, they were fabulous.
The first person I saw as I weaved through the crowd that was peering at the art-covered walls was Doug Jaeger, previously founder and CEO of thehappycorp global and currently Director of Innovation of TAXI New York. He was wearing a green T-shirt with a built -in white tie and his signature smirk that says to me, "Kelly, you will never know if I'm making fun of you, addressing you with disdain, being sarcastic, or just socially awkward." It's true. I can't read the guy. I walk away from conversations with him feeling like I need to reassess my station in life.
This time I walked away, reassessing my career path, and saw Raw Toast Design's Jesse Kuhn. I keep an eye out for him every time I walk through Union Square because that's where I bought "Poor Little Calamari" -- but he admits that due to the recession everyone is out there selling just about anything. He's incredibly talented and not a jerk, which is why I'm happy to say you should follow him on Twitter like I do so you know when he's having shows and such.
In other news, the buffet was hotdogs. And you're right, when I smelled those cylindrical tubes of mystery beef, I was giddy like a school girl. Until I discovered they were chichi dogs. AKA flavors like, Thai... and kimchi. Uh-uh. Do not defame the beautiful hotdog, the world's perfect food, by dressing it up in sheep's clothing. Just slap some sauerkraut and mustard, maybe some onions, on it and call it a day. Griping aside, the Thai dog I had was delicious, but still.
In other other news, I almost broke my face in a puddle of spilled beer. Obviously, another klutz was mingling about, because it seemed that as soon as the staff mopped up one puddle, another appeared... like a wormhole. I kept a close eye on the young dancing duo to see if they'd do a little electric slide in a beer quagmire, but they didn't. The ADC included a photo booth at this year's party ; the constant line affirmed the idea as a good one.
As I began my final lap, sipping my Oktoberfest beer and tonguing a Thai ingredient out of my snaggletooth, I looked up at the lofty area and spied some dudes. They were Landon Bell, Account Executive at photolibrary, and Keshida Layone, also of photolibrary. I spied some Laser Cat T-shirts and this discovery led me to the Shutterstock crew of John Mackin, Jon Feinstein, Michael Reiss, and Angela Cho. On my way out the door, after grabbing pins and branded lip balm, I met Jonathan Morffi, who earlier had quasi-photo-bombed a shot like a goon -- I wanted to give him fair credit. As he went to get his card for me, he knocked over the butt stop (you know, the ash can).
A fabulous night. Two great parties, two completely
different things, and good people all around.
Get those invitations out to email@example.com!