Red Tie Me Up

The Red Tie Gala on all levels of Neiman's SF Every few years around the first week of November, Neiman Marcus San Francisco closes its doors a bit early on a Friday evening. The doors re-open a few hours later to welcome guests at the Auxiliary of the Little Sisters of the Poor’s Red Tie Gala. The bi-annual event benefits Saint Anne’s Home, and this year’s event was absolutely one of the best in memory. It could be because the Red Tie Gala has been on an extra-long hiatus due to the renovations at Neiman Marcus, or it could be because the recent renovations have resulted in such an opulently open floor-plan that the event was more eye-popping than usual. In any case, I always seem to forget how fantastic the party is during the off years, until it smacks me in the face as I walk in the door.

This year, my sister and brother-in-law were meant to join us, but due to eleventh-hour delays in New York , their tickets were used by my friends Ashley & Carlos. With a ten-month old boy at home, Ashley & Carlos hadn’t been to something like this in a while, and they didn’t know what they were getting into! I’ll confess that I didn’t either. Within moments of the front door, we had our first cocktails in hand, and had gathered a map to the proceedings. Yes – a map.
Ashley, Me, and The KingThis party is spread over all six floors of Neiman Marcus, entertaining over 3,000 people with food and bands on every floor. The 2006 Red Tie was themed on different cities or countries. Themes aside though, we are at Neiman’s, and Ashley quickly spots a table of “special price” handbags – just for a look though, after all the store isn’t open… (This is a great way to shop!) We quickly move right up from “The Wine Country” to Las Vegas where we’re greeted by two feather-bedecked showgirls and Elvis himself. We also find mini versions of Chaya, Border Grill, and Michael Mina (with Michael Mina himself heading the away team,) serving scrumptious finger food. The band? None other than San Francisco-favorite Casino Royale.

Me and my Dapper Dad in Red Tie Attire We do a lap of the floor and try to get through the crowd to the up escalator. I tell Ashley and Carlos that whichever one of them finds my Dad gets a dollar. As we start to go up, Carlos says: “Hey – there he is!” It’s my Dad – going down on the opposite escalator. He waves and makes a series of hand gestures which we think means “I’m going downstairs to bring your mother some food, but then I’ll be back up…” At the next floor, we run right into the Statue of Liberty. She smiles through her blue body paint and moves along to sell raffle tickets. Apparently, we’re now in New York , and that’s good for me because we quickly find the Maker’s Mark Manhattan Bar right next to the Back Burner Blues Band. Next to the blues band, I find a whole gaggle of kids I went to high school with – including my sister’s ex-boyfriend. “So, how’s your sister?” I told him she was still married…my sister, the heart-breaker. At the opposite end of the floor was a real-live swing band, with those little stand thingys that had “Starduster Orchestra” in fancy cursive on the front. Dancing was pretty quiet for the moment, so we kept going up.

Not just a pretty face - he tempers chocolate too! The fourth floor, the floor of Neiman Marcus known as “designer contemporary” during business hours, was themed on San Francisco . Here the food was from Tracy Des Jardins of Jardinere, Asia de Cuba, Town Hall, and Hawthorne Lane. While the food is fantastic, we all notice that we've had about five different variations of ahi tuna tartare - um, something new please?  I couldn’t tell who the band was, but there were people dancing to Motown in the Tory Burch. We run into one of my Mom’s friends who tells us to zip right up to the fifth floor because the theme is “ Paris ” and the Ritz-Carlton Half Moon Bay is doing the pastries. Without further ado, we head up another up-escalator, and at the top there is such a traffic jam of spangles and tuxedos that a dangerous people-pile-on-moving-stairs almost ensued. Undaunted, we find ourselves among the overpriced home accents, tabletop displays, and Christmas ornaments, and quickly get stopped by a table-full of St Andre brie and gorgeous artisan breads. There are French burlesque characters doing hand-painted tattoos across bare shoulders, playing accordions, and handing out Hershey kisses. After our pit stop at the triple-cream, we find the Ritz-Carlton booth – it’s hard to miss, those pastry chefs are hot! Would I like a chipotle-chocolate whatsit? How about a mango gelee cream thing on a stick? Delicious. As we make our way back toward the escalators, Ashley kowtows me saying “this way to the Veuve!”

This way to the Veuve! “What!? I didn’t see any Veuve anywhere.”

“You think I’d have missed spotting the Veuve?”

She was right, there was an entire table-full of the gold labeled stuff. We each grab a flute and find the down escalators – it’s too crowded, everyone wants to be in Paris .

We decide to go back down to the main floor to try to find my parents, and possibly go all the way down to the men’s department to visit “ Italy .” As we move from five down to four, I look over the side and see a familiar bald head again on the opposite escalator – it’s my Dad again, and this time, if the crowd allows it, I think we’ve caught up with him. With him in the entourage, we quickly find my Mom back in the Wine Country. We say our hellos, finally, and move down to Italy where Pure Ecstasy is playing, and tasty risotto, focaccia, and scaloppini is being served. We don’t stay long in Italy though, and make our way back up to the fourth floor Rotunda bar, which is completely packed. Unfortunately, the restrooms on this floor are packed too, so Ashley and I wait in a very long line. One kindly gentleman offers the stall in the men’s room, but I tell him: “not in these shoes…” About fifteen pairs of eyes look south of my ankles with envy – I live for these moments. (My Vuitton Cherry Blossom Satin pumps are back in business thanks to a local cobbler/genius who breathed unto them new life.) The gentleman says “Those are incredible shoes – I don’t blame you.”

But, you have to take the good with the bad, and there’s nothing like the ladies room for spotting fashion don’ts…

“Did you see those?” Ashley whispers to me.

“Which?”

“The velvet dress with the leather shoes?”

“Oh yeah. I was trying not to notice…” We giggle. “Hey, you’re a snob!”

“I’m not a snob. Things don’t have to be expensive, they just have to be…”

“…right.” I finish for her. A girl after my own heart.

We make our way back to New York , spotting my parents among the crowd by the swing band. As we all chat, I look over and notice someone – is it really her? Yes, yes it is…It’s Kate Logan, l’enfant terrible of San Francisco fashion. What’s she doing here? She doesn’t really know herself, but one of her customers came into Ooma demanding a red dress…

Kate Logan & I do some shopping “And you know, it’s pretty rare that someone needs a red dress.”

“Unless you’re going to the Red Tie Ball.”

“Right. So, she gave me a pair of tickets, so I’m here auditioning bands for our wedding – for free! Alright, so what are you wearing?” Kate is all business when it comes to breaking down someone's *look*.

“BCBG, Ben Amun earrings (that I actually had made for Ashley’s wedding,) vintage rhinestone bracelets from my Grandma (that my Mom still tries to steal back from me,) a red silk sash I made myself, brooch from Yochi Vintage on Girlshop.com…and a bag from Jest Jewels.”

“Yeah, but did you see the shoes…?” quips Ashley. (Did I mention how much I love this girl?)

Kate, of course, is wearing a fabulous red dress from Ooma, with vintage beads found on eBay. Here’s a girl who knows how to brand herself well.

So, glasses are drained, bands wind up their finales, goodbyes are said, and Ashley, Carlos, and I head back out to Stockton Street . The whole affair is a crowded red-and-black blur of fun, friends, and lots of champagne. Ashley & Carlos go home to their baby, while I go on to Trader Sam’s to meet up with other friends. I realize that it’s the second Friday in a row that I’ve ended the night in black-tie garb in a dive bar. I love this town…