November 19th: Having forgotten my winter parka, I hurried over to Tenjune to get inside, excited about the notion of vodka for the Stoli Blakberi event to warm me up.  Oddly enough, there was barely a line to get in, and even more odd, the few people in front of me holding up the line were dudes.  A pack of dudes trying to get into Tenjune?

It boded well for them to flirt with the cute Stoli hostesses in warm fuzzy Russian-esque hats.  Vodka, after all, did hail from back in the U.S.S.R. (name that song), the motherland of all things drunk and liquid.  Before I could unbutton my coat, two sultry girls smiled and shoved trays of alcohol in front of me: two different conconctions made with Stoli Blakberi.  Then I snatched some crabcakes from the cute hor d’oeuvre passer-outer, but I was still full from dinner when he later tried to tempt me to taste this cube thing with goat cheese.

Tenjune is relatively small space, especially in comparison to where Stoli held previous events, but whether because of the fiercely cold weather or a stricter guest list, there was enough space to move freely without fear of drink spillage.  The top row of the main club area was reserved for VIPs in stiff suits, but in the side room was where the fun was.

There was a photoshoot set up with props of fuzzy hats, captains’ hats, an apron, and heavy wool coats to play dress-up and look ridiculous next to enlarged Stoli martini glasses.  The photographer took his job very seriously in trying to make his “models” look good, but alas, it was typically a lost cause.  They had a computer station set up where they printed out your best shot in a matter of minutes.

So this is what is must be like to be on America’s Next Top Model.


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