Vera's world

Vera Wang’s Second Honeymoon

New York magazine: In the registry department of Bloomingdale’s, 400 brides-to-be are waiting for Vera Wang. They’ve brought digital cameras and notebooks for their heroine to sign, like so many crazed teenage girls outside Justin Timberlake’s hotel. They’ve prepared questions (is it really necessary to have formal and casual china?), and they’ve dragged along their fiancés, who look, for the most part, tremendously bored.

Wang, meanwhile, has arrived, via the giant A-Team–style van she keeps in a garage beside her Park Avenue apartment. She’s in a Bloomingdale’s holding room, holding court.

“Would you like some water, Ms. Wang?” asks one of the many hovering, black-clad assistants.

“Do you have any vodka?” she answers, glancing toward the well-organized row of Poland Spring. Her voice is high and sounds almost deliberately nasal, like a put-on of an old-school garmento. “I mean, there’s got to be some vodka somewhere in this store, right?” Her publicist looks panicked. “Vodka tonic,” Wang insists, and the assistant is off.

Just in time for the start of fashion week, there's a funny profile of Vera Wang in the New York magazine--funny because it turns out she's nothing like you'd expect.

At least based on what I knew of her bridal line.

Image of the Wangs and the Clintons from Vera Wang's website.