I pulled up to Chateau Marmont at 10 p.m. sharp, where hordes of photographers had congregated outside. Flashes were going off in rapid succession as I slipped out of my Uber in a pair of Marc Jacobs bow heels from the early 2010s with a giant smile on my face when not a single camera turned my way. I guess they don’t know good footwear when they see it.
I was there to cover GQ’s Men of the Year party—not to be confused with People’s Sexiest Man Alive, although I imagine there is some overlap in the tip sheets. This year, GQ was honoring not one man but five: Chris Rock, Andrew Garfield, Matt Damon, Celine’s Michael Rider, and legendary director Denis Villeneuve. Combine that with the guest list—Jason Bateman, Joshua Jackson, Travis Scott, Patrick Schwarzenegger, Miguel, Diplo, and Jordan Firstman to name a few—and it was quite the gathering of testosterone under one roof.
Chateau Marmont, the grande dame of Old Hollywood that has managed to retain its mystique, is arguably the sexiest spot in Los Angeles. In 1929, when Hollywood was booming and the surrounding hillsides were beginning to sprout mansions, the stretch of Sunset Boulevard where the Chateau now stands was still something of a frontier. Originally conceived as a luxury apartment building loosely modeled after a Gothic castle in France, nearly a century and some recessions later, it has remained the go-to stomping ground for generations of actors, artists, musicians, and troublemakers. And this night was no different.
The fire-engine red carpet and step-and-repeat had been set up in the Chateau’s garage, and the lighting had raised the temperature by what felt like ten degrees (I was already sweating through my velvet jacket, so I’m not sure how those in tuxes and heavy outerwear were faring). Zosia Mamet, who played Shoshanna on Girls, was walking down the carpet while I ran into a few familiar faces, including my good friend Noah Dillon and his musical partner Chandler Lucy from The Hellp. They’re playing Coachella for the first time this year, so we got to talking about that when a little commotion on the carpet caught my eye. A model had handed her coat to a publicist, when several items, including some party favors, came tumbling out of the pockets. Not exactly the sort of thing one hopes for while strutting down a red carpet. As someone scrambled to retrieve them, I took that as my cue to head toward the main event. I had, after all, come here to work.
