Poor Santino. Saturday night I watched as person after person came up to him to ask, "Where's Andrae?" They were, of course, imitating his imitation of Tim Gunn, made famous in the "Flower Power" episode of Project Runway 2. But four hours into the GLAAD awards in Los Angeles, it was getting kind of old. Finally he spat, "Right THERE! THERE'S Andrae!" And there he was, Andrae in the flesh, sitting next to Nick Verreos and across from Sir Tim. The Bravo table was party central, as agents, twinks, writers, lesbians, producers, bears, and perhaps even a few whores schlepped from all ends of the Kodak Theater to pay their respects at Table 11.
The designers and Sir Tim were in great form, each dressed in their own distinctive garb. I wish I could say the same for the crowd of homosexuals. One might think that a crowd of several thousand gays would be among the best dressed under one roof. I'd compare this group to an assemblage of lager louts and coal miners dressed for a night out. It was a shockingly un-pretty fashion show! I was flummoxed. Joining us at the Bravo table was Queer Eye producer Michael Williams and Jackie Warner, star of our next big reality hit, Work Out. Jackie is a knockout and next year at the awards, I predict she'll have a line of curious guys and panting ladies wanting her attention.
The awards featured: a tribute to "Will & Grace" that became surprisingly moving when co-creator David Kohan brought most of the cast to tears with an emotional speech; (another) lifetime achievement award for Melissa Etheridge; appearances by "Desperate" ladies Teri Hatcher and Nicolette Sheridan; humor by Judy Gold; same-sex dry humping by Cirque du Soleil; and a tribute to Charlize Theron, who we were told is regarded as one of our greatest living actresses. (Did I miss the memo? Is that true?) The emotional capper of the night was during the "Trans Generation" acceptance speech when one of the doc's stars proposed to his girlfriend -- not a dry eye in the house and everyone on their feet!
As the night was wrapping up, Santino and Nick hatched a plan that involved a bar called Hotdog and Sir Tim Gunn. Sir Tim has a mind of his own, of course, and refused to be a part of this plan. I, on the other hand, was game for a night out with the designers and we split. I was endlessly amused by the prospect of addressing Santino, Nick and Andrae collectively as "Designers," a la Sir Tim. For me, it never got old. "Designers, gather your gift bags so we can go to Hotdog!" I ordered. "Designers, where is Santino's car?" I asked. At least I was amused. Many times throughout the night, Andrae went missing and I was empowered to ask the magic question, "Where's Andrae?"
The kids at Hotdog were chomping at the proverbial bit to get a glimpse of Santino and company in there midst. Nick is especially vulnerable, as everyone wants to hug him, touch him, kiss him and lord knows what else. Mr. Friendly was mobbed. We danced all night, from Madonna ("Get into the Groove") to Dead or Alive (their one hit). And then it was 2am, the lights went on and I remembered why I don't live in LA. I hate it when the party stops! Thanks for the good time, designers! Soon I'll give my LA GLAAD gift bag away on the blog, so watch this space!