Millennium Agency

"The last time I was at a Louboutin party, I almost broke my foot," a woman said as she rode the escalator to the second floor at Bergdorf Goodman last night.

Things didn't get quite that rowdy at the retailer's red-themed 20th anniversary fête for the shoe maestro. Except, that is, when the man of the hour made his grand entrance. As guests tried to get a photo or an autograph of Louboutin—not easy, what with his pack of bodyguards—even industry insiders admitted that meeting the designer is a thrill. "In May, I had lunch with him in Budapest. I know it sounds name drop-y, but I'm from the Midwest, so it was pretty exciting," said Paper magazine's Mickey Boardman.

Bergdorf's Linda Fargo was on the same page—she decked herself out in confetti for the occasion. Just how did she manage to attach it to her skin? "I used lots of fake eyelash glue," she told Style.com. "Originally, I went to the store to get those gold star stickers, like the ones they used to put on your papers in school when you did well, and they looked at me like I was crazy!"

Sandro Kopp paints his portraits differently: namely, via Skype from Scotland. And perhaps for that reason, his New York friends and famous sitters (often one and the same) have been overjoyed to have the 33-year-old artist in town—although it doesn't hurt, of course, that his plus-one is Tilda Swinton. "It's been, like, Sandro week. I think all of his friends have been throwing him parties," David Maupin said on Saturday night, where his gallery, Lehmann Maupin, hosted a dinner in celebration of Kopp's new exhibition, There You Are, at its Chrystie Street space.

"I think part of it is an extension of his charm and his personality and being an artist—to do this type of work, you have to kind of relate and open up some kind of conversation with your subject," Maupin mused, as Michael Stipe (who'd thrown Kopp a dinner party of his own the night before) arrived with gold, letter-shaped balloons that spelled out K-O-P-P. Meanwhile, Frances McDormand was taking her co-hosting duties seriously: "I'm the hostess; do what I say," the actress said, cutting a swath through the cocktail area. "We're moving to the back room. My name's Fran."

Singer-songwriter Patrick Wolf had flown in from London and serenaded dinner guests before they took their seats underneath enormous rice paper lanterns. (The proceedings were sponsored by Belvedere, Pomellato, and Istanbul '74, the Turkish culture-importing outfit behind the annual Istancool festival.) Kopp, looking very much the man of the hour in a velvet YSL dinner jacket, declared himself not just over the moon—"I'm over Mars," he said. As McDormand started packing up kale salad for the road, the crowd headed off to the after-party at Pulqueria. The balloons didn't make the trip, but Kopp and Swinton did, and stayed until 2 a.m.—which makes the actress' luminous appearance at the SAG Awards in L.A. the following evening all the more remarkable.

For ten years, the Sidaction gala has closed the spring Couture season in Paris. The evening has evolved into a highly successful fundraiser for AIDS education, research, and treatment, but the personality of the actual event is contingent on a couple of other features. One, it's something of a fashion showcase, not quite to the extent of New York's Met ball, but designers do make the scene with a "muse," like Giambattista Valli arriving with Bianca Brandolini d'Adda, Peter Copping dressing Clémence Poésy, or Dita Von Teese sporting Alexis Mabille on her bod and Alexis Mabille on her arm. Jean Paul Gaultier and Grace Jones also made a logical pair, even if she was actually with The Other JPG (Jean-Paul Goude).

Another characteristic of the gala is the lengthy speechifying that precedes dinner. Not, in itself, unusual at such things, but it's always seemed a little off that they're not somehow translated for the non-French speakers in the audience. A shame, when the information being imparted is so worthy. Plus, Sidaction's work is international. Plus, the gala comes at the end of a fashion semi-week, when Paris is awash with out-of-towners. I seemed to be surrounded by people who'd quickly stretched their bilingualism to the max. Oh, well, there was always a special postprandial edition of Club Sandwich, where the Anglophones whose French had been tested and found wanting could blow off some nonverbal steam.

The 18th Annual SAG Awards ceremony was almost like watching the Globes all over again. Same A-list nominees, same A-list winners, save for upsets in the Best Actor and Actress categories. Only this time around the festivities included a drinking game courtesy of the Bridesmaids crew. Kristen Wiig and company's onstage antics echoed the action on the red carpet: For the most part, the vibe tonight was cooler, looser, and more fun—and better for it.

That's not to say the glam factor went missing. Natalie Portman and Zoe Saldana both nabbed looks fresh from the Paris haute couture shows that wrapped last Wednesday; the former chose a strapless Giambattista Valli in a deep shade of bordeaux, and the latter wore Look 17 from Givenchy. Minus the nose ring, that is—things weren't quite that loose.

Still, there was plenty to like: Emma Stone's black Alexander McQueen, Michelle Williams' lacy red Valentino, Jessica Chastain's royal-blue gown from Calvin Klein Collection. We'll be looking forward to seeing what those three choose for the Oscars. Gretchen Mol's white and gold L'Wren Scott column dress also made a big impact.

White and gold also proved lucky for a Marchesa-clad Viola Davis. After winning Best Actress for her role in The Help, she was back on stage again for the Best Ensemble prize.