Dinner with: Christian Siriano
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Christian was on his way, someone promised. He forgot something, another publicist whispered. The event, a small dinner hosted by Full Picture Productions for ‘Project Runway’ winner Christian Siriano, had started almost an hour ago, and many guests were wondering if the designer had gone diva.
A situation not yet ‘fierce,’ but hardly a ‘hot mess.’
‘Ugly Betty’ star Becki Newton wasn’t budging until he showed. ‘I knew he was going to win on the first day, right?’ she said, nudging her husband. He nodded. Why Siriano? ‘He had this confidence, and it wasn’t feigned.’
Indeed, Siriano, 22, had a certain something. For one, his distinctive lopsided coif made him look like a cockatoo with a nasty hangover. He even moved like a driven bird, pecking here and there, as he created a dress from Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrappers.
When Siriano does finally arrive to this alfresco fete at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel, we find out that he had forgotten his rack of ‘looks’ and had to turn around. He saunters in wearing a vest of his own design with Cheap Monday skinny jeans and shoes by Comme des Garçons.
He is decidedly smaller than life. It occurs to me that I could probably abscond with him in my oversized Ferragamo bag. From my pantry, he would whip up a new outfit for me every morning and then feast on stale oyster crackers and lemon curd.
Wrong. Siriano has skinnier fish to bread and fry. Last night, Sienna Miller accosted him at the Chateau Marmont, he tells me. ‘I’m going to Victoria Beckham’s house tomorrow,’ he adds, as we settle on a private bench to chat. Is he nervous? ‘No. I am just going to say, ‘Hey, girl, what’s up? Put these on!’ ‘
He seems so relaxed one-on-one and refrains from saying the F-word -- ‘fierce.’ When someone brings up the recent ‘Saturday Night Live’ sketch in which Amy Poehler parodied him exponentially, he laughs and says: ‘She did me better than me.’
How very observant of him. Siriano -- who hopes to ‘brand’ himself with a ‘couture-lifestyle-something’ -- knows that he has etched out an image as defined as a Butterick pattern. Sure, he’s supremely talented. But he also played the reality-TV game with canny precision by acting out, sniping about his colleagues and empowering firefighters nationwide to catcall, ‘We got a four-alarm hot mess, Sgt. Tranny!’
When rapper Eve strolls in moments later, she hurries to the corner rack of the designer’s jackets and pants to coo. ‘His clothes are perfect for the music industry,’ she says, holding a black, punkish blazer to her breast. ‘So fff . . . ‘ Here it comes. ‘ . . . fashion forward,’ she says.
Eve doesn’t need Siriano’s F-word. She has her own brand to promote.
photo: LA Times.