Event-goers were a mix of devoted yogis, reps from sponsor Otis & Ahearn, attractive and well-dressed couples, and a few — and there really is no other way to phrase this — hoochie mamas. Excess cleavage, tight mini dresses, and fuck-me pumps were scattered among the otherwise classy crowd. In fact, two of these “ladies” (hanging on the arm of a pimped-out, bedazzled gentleman friend) were ousted from the front row by the host Arturo himself. Drama.
Achilles was definitely the after-party to attend last night. Sorry, Rocca, but your no-DJ, wine-sipping, elbow-rubbing soiree could not have been as fun and juicy as this party, complete with drunken public make-out sessions, happily-married editors talking dirty, and gushing gals throwing themselves at the hunky Island Creek Oyster boys (who looked like hottie little surfer dudes with long hair) and their two handsome leaders.
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