Champagne, Chain MaIl, and Quotes Galore at the Whitney Art Party
I need you to picture me walking into the 2026 Whitney Art Party looking fly as hell.
Sixties platforms. A pink-and-blue ultra-mini cupcake dress. A custom Vietnamese high-collar silk jacket. A little Schiaparelli here, a giant matching pink faux-fur coat there.
Body brought to you by Costco.
And yes, I grabbed a pink tequila Paloma upon entry—I’m nothing if not committed to a theme.
I walk my first red carpet ever, giving my best “it girl” face (lol), and immediately get swallowed by a room where everyone actually dressed on theme for once. Heaven. Prints. Patterns. Color. Lines. People pretending to be casual while fully melting over dresses made of toy cars and chain mail; denim bombers dipped in Japanese cyanotype photographs; men in suits constructed out of feathers, pleats, and rope. Phenomenal.
Alina Gatrell, Arts & Culture Writer, Tawk of New Yawk
I grab champagne from a bartender with the most insane hair I’ve ever seen, and immediately the gossip hits.
“Ooo, I heard Meredith Marks is supposed to be here tonight.”
“Wait—Martha Stewart was here? For five minutes?! HA!”
Very New York. The icons bless the room, disappear, and suddenly you’re gaslighting yourself.
Sua Morales
Angela Chatzidimitriou
Of course, the entertainment for the evening was DJ Raúl de Nieves and The Dare, who were fantastic, but it was the random three-minute conversations with strangers that really lit up the night.
DJ Raúl de Nieves
No easing in. Just: “I love your pin—what do you do?”
“Thank you! I was an aerospace engineer until I met the love of my life. She’s an artist. Now I’m a metalworker. We make jewelry.”
“Oh wow, who designed your suit?” which immediately turns into: “I was working on propaganda posters two days before Czechoslovakia was overthrown in ’89. Didn’t realize I’d actually have a hand in the revolution, and then, well… boom.”
BOOM. Amazing.
Souleo & Beau McCall
Then, while wandering through Calder’s circus and taking in the incredible wire works, someone tells us: “You know it all started when I was nine? I was a brilliant oil painter—making money and everything. But my parents thought I wouldn’t make friends, so they forced me into sports. That’s not cool. Let your kids do what they want. Now I have two horses, four chickens, a family, and I’m a pretty successful designer. They could’ve let me be—I would’ve ended up here anyway.”
I’m just saying: you never know who you’re going to meet or what you’re going to hear at the Whitney Art Party, but I can guarantee it’s a night you’ll remember. I almost ran away with the Plant Kween himself—talk about thrilling.
Anthony Hendley
N.J. Ross & Tania Staykova
Even as the evening wound down, the moments kept coming.
“Mmm, baby. Now that’s how you walk down a staircase.”
And finally:
“I swear to God, she just kissed me on the head, patted it, and walked away. What just happened?”
“Well, at least she was wearing head-to-toe De La Renta. That was one classy head pat.”
Annie Ma
Molly Krause
Hayley River Smith
Hayley River Smith
Like I said: a fabulous evening filled with fabulous New Yorkers. As The Dare’s final set played and we spilled out of the color-soaked whirlwind into the below-freezing street—and whatever reality detox awaited us—we were still collecting gems.
“Hell yes, I’m taking two goody bags.”
Honestly? Vibe.
And then: “Oh shit, what time is it? I’d rather die than mess up my Duolingo streak.”
I mean—is that not the most Manhattan thing you’ve ever heard?
Jessica Louise Dye
Laura Elizabeth Smith Sweeney