This is your humble correspondent on her way into Vanity Fair’s Oscar party. You’ll notice I found a last-minute replacement for the old white pantsuit. There’s a story in today’s paper about what it’s like on the inside of the celebrity circle of cool, gleaned from crumpled, inky bits of paper — that’s what I found in my pockets the morning after. Here’s a bit of that piece:
“There was joy in the room at the Vanity Fair party at Morton’s, by now an Oscar night tradition that has cowed the competition. The restaurant filled on Sunday night with the likes of Helen