NY Mirror

LaChapelle's muse, Amanda Lepore, tells me the photog's eyes were stung by the booze, and as he went to leave, Diandra followed him wielding a bottle. "The bouncer said, 'Here she goes again,' " related Lepore. "But David had nothing to do with her being cut out of the photo. And I think she left the shoot in the middle anyway because they wanted her to wear something different." Still, for Diandra to waste liquor, she must have been upset. (PS: She's extra pissed now that she was fired from Cheng's.)

A tawdry scene also tainted "Tulips & Pansies," a floral headdress competition at the Supper Club, benefiting Village Care of New York and featuring Shequida singing "Pie Jesu." Backstage, the model for Ron Chereskin was heard screaming on the phone, "I'm a professional! I'm not modeling with drag queens!" before taking his mucho macho heinie out the door. The hunky boyfriend of Danny (Who's the Boss?) Pintauro gamely stepped into the abandoned outfit and saved the day, as everyone wondered what the original doof thought he'd be getting at an AIDS benefit named "Tulips & Pansies."

Anyway, Danny told me he met his beau at the Starlight Lounge last year (on non-theremin night) and now they're so tight they're planning a European getaway. "I already know where all the bathhouses are!" the boyfriend blurted. Wait—do they have an open relationship? "A closed open relationship," said Danny, meaning that Three's Company is more than a sitcom title to them. (But I still wonder who's the boss.)

"Am I scaring you?": Armen Ra at the theremin.
photo: Jay Muhlin
"Am I scaring you?": Armen Ra at the theremin.

Never a sitcom, though it was a TV special, a book, and an album, Free to Be . . . You and Me, is now a stage musical with four grown-ups practically handing you money in their eagerness to put over all the gags and messages. They're cute, but the result is more sci-fi than gorgeous.

More fiction than science was the AP obit of designer Bill Blass: "Blass, who was never married, won women over with his designs and his charm. . . . New York fashion guru Nan Kempner once said, 'I fell in love with him, like every woman.' " Oy.

And now, anyone wanna start a Thora Birch mag and call it Thorazine?

EXTRA ITEM: At a Paper party at the Dior store last week, everyone gagged when one of the As Four designers entered all sequined and in a wheelchair. "How far will these freaks go to make a fashion statement?" all the fashionistas started murmuring, a tad jealously. But it turned out the guy had really hurt himself, and poetically, too. His bag had gotten stuck in a tree (long story), and he got injured trying to climb the thing and get it back. That's how I want to die—reaching for an accessory!


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