Last night was Cheree Berry's launch party for her pop-up book Hoorah for the Bra. I admit it, my schadenfreude sense was tingling when I heard that our newest transplant from NYC was planning a book party. At every book launch I've attended, there were six other people there, all dressed down (even for St. Louis) and looking for dried out cubes of free cheese and cheap wine in plastic cups. A real city gal like Cheree was going to expect a NYC turnout and be sadly disappointed. I'm not mean, just realistic. I'd met Cheree a few weeks ago and she is a name on my short list of people I've instantly liked upon first impressions.
Anyway, I was completely wrong. When we walked into Des Lee Gallery, this full-color blow up of the current cover of St. Louis Magazine (gorgeous itself, by the way) hugged an easel in the atrium. The doorway framed a veritable HORDE of people. And we'd been wandering about the galleries (last night was the 1st Friday gallery hop) all evening and downtown was practically deserted. Even the Ellen Curlee gallery was empty, and we think they were having an opening. Of a sudden, it was obvious where everyone was. Music pumped out of giant speakers. Cheree had the walls hung with massive arty pictures of brassiered ladies. We watched, agog, as three or four black-braed, tanned and topless waitresses dodged and weaved among the throng, carrying trays of pink martinis and bra-shaped cookies with pink and white icing. It may have been better attended than the Cindy Sherman appearance/opening at the Contemporary last September, and you remember how off the chain that was. I looked for Beth, Pam Bliss, and Lindsay, my StudioSTL gals. I found them, but the music was so loud, we couldn't hear each other, so we didn't stay grouped long. Laine grabbed a few photos with her discreet but powerful Sony digital camera while I tried not to knock anything over. Cheree was buried behind the book-signing table and mobbed the whole time. We loosely followed the Party Monster NYC party techniques by doing two laps, talking to two groups of people, and then leaving while people still thought we were cool. (I know, no one thinks we're cool. Shut it.)
Behold, the pictures. Oh, and NOTE: All these photographs are property of Laine Marschik and Nuclear Family Photo. Be cool and ask first if you want a copy.
This one's my favorite. Something about his nose and the cone bra makes me giddy.
I exaggerate about the size of the crowd. Shocker, no? The Cindy Sherman gig was essentially packed wall to wall, first and second floor, and the Contemporary is way bigger than Des Lee Gallery, but still, a huge turnout for a book launch. Congratulations, Cheree! Way to make a hell of a cannon-ball splash as the newest big fish in our compact and cloudy pond. You have definitely raised the bra. Um, I mean bar.
From the Cindy Sherman Opening
