We’ve been talking photography here at the office today thanks to the fact that I’m still a little weak in the knees about my Chuck Close moment.

Also, the LA Times has a really nice piece that traces the most influential people in modern fashion photography. Seriously if I had money to spend on art, a huge chunk of it would go to photography.

There would be Chuck Close (of course), as much David Bailey as I could get my hands on, and if I could ever afford to have Mario Testino shoot me looking a fraction as pretty as he has so many other girls, I would be self-involved enough to hang a picture of me in my apartment.

So last night, Versace and the Whitney threw a very fancy party. There was a dinner where people like Donatella (of course), Shakira, Gerard Butler, and other patrons of the arts got together upstairs at the museum.

There was also a downstairs party where they all made their way afterward. I got the chance to see the beginnings of this charity endeavor with Donatella back in July, and it was so nice to see the children’s art displayed on actual handbags that will be sold to raise money for the Starlight Children’s Foundation and the One Foundation.

Not for nothing, they created a graffiti wall where everyone could draw and have fun. So of course someone went for “balloon boy” and started sketching a CNN screen grab of America’s latest reality travesty. Oy, America. But that’s a discussion for another blog on another day…

And of course, the usual fashion crowd was out in full effect—Alexa, Leigh, Peter, Hana, Fabiola, Alexandra, Amanda—but there was really only one star in the room—Chuck Close.

Each time I move apartments (and I tend to do this often) I fight the same battle; no one understands why I insist upon moving my magazines.

“Throw them out!” they tell me. “They’re too heavy!” they insist. (Though surely they’d balk at the thought of trashing a single book.) Absolutely not. I love my magazines. And while I can be talked into tossing an issue of GQ with Leonardo DiCaprio on the cover, others, like Andre J’s French Vogue or Coco Rocha’s Numero, will stay with me forever - even if I have to pay the movers extra - because nothing beats a really exceptional magazine.

One of the best that I’ve managed to hang onto dates from 2003 (which means its lived in seven apartments). W dedicated an entire issue to Kate Moss. Inside, various artists including Richard Prince, Lucien Freud, Chuck Close and all the best photographers paid tribute to the supermodel and now, the Chuck Close photographs are going to auction.

The black and white nude is expected to sell for as much as $16,300 at Christie’s on Wednesday which means I’ll have to stay content with flipping through the yellowing pages of my original issue.