i smell famous people

contagion

A short guest post from a friend I’ve passed the “spotting” bug to. “yesterday afternoon [friend] and I were leisurely strolling and shopping, when all of sudden keifer sutherland comes walking down the street in the opposite direction (looking incredibly smug I might say.. I don’t watch 24, but I feel like that constant expression of smugness would bug the hell out of me) . aaaaanyway after he passed I turned to [friend] and said “that was keifer sutherland!” to which she responded “huh?” only to hear someone else explaining to his walking partner “that was jack bauer!” I couldn’t help but exclaim “yeah!” leading us to catch eyes and nod in agreement before continuing on. that was Jack Bauer.. I mean Keifer Sutherland. thought you’d be pleased with my skillz. [friend] apparently has some work to do.” I am pleased. And proud.

always alert

A few weeks back I was walking with friends. I was listening to them, but alert as always. Walking towards me was a man who looked vaguely familiar. It’s easy to think at first, “How do I know you? Work? School? A friend of a friend?” It’s easy to forget that you might not know the person at all, but are simply recognizing them. Once he was closer I knew, for certain, that it was comedian/director David Wain (director of Wet Hot American Summer). After he passed I interrupted my friends by saying, “That was David Wain.” They looked surprised that I had noticed and one said, “I was listening to what [friend] was saying.” Priorities. That’s all I’m sayin’.

two (not) of a kind

I’ve posted about my experience seeing Josh Charles and Ethan Hawke at a cupcake bakery. Seeing them together was exciting in and of itself, but afterwards, putting together the connection they share made me even happier. You see, they were once co-stars, in the amazing film The Dead Poet’s Society. Seeing both of them was kind of like playing Six Degrees of Separation. In real life. Without the separation. Or Kevin Bacon. I’ve never been so lucky as to see two “connected” people at the same time again. But I have been working on collecting separate sightings of people who are connected. Most recently, I saw What Not to Wear’s hair guru, Nick Arrojo. He was walking towards me on the street and I gave him my scary “I know you” eyes. He responded by looking away as quickly as possible. (He didn’t know I wouldn’t approach him, so I get it.) But I was less excited about seeing Mr. Arrojo than I was about seeing yet another member of the the What Not to Wear crew. Stacey, Clinton, and now Nick. Carmindy, you better watch out. My other “collection” of sightings involves one of my favorite reality shows, America’s Next Top Model. New York is filled with models, so I’m always on the lookout to see if I recognize anyone. It’s much easier to scope models, as they’re so much taller and thinner than the average person. My first ANTM sighting was one of my favorite contestants, Eugena. (I thought she was robbed, by the way.) I’ve actually seen her twice, once on the street and once getting off the same train as me in my neghborhood. The other ANTM sighting was slightly more awesome. I was walking to a meeting and saw none other than Miss J, runway diva coach extraordinaire. I gave him my now-patented, “I know you” eyes. Instead of freaking out and looking away, she gave me a truly warm smile, knowing full well that she was making my day. And, all in all, that’s kind of what the spotting is about. I don’t want to take anyone’s picture or shake their hand (anymore). I just want to have an “eeee!” moment and move on, or maybe call my mom. Yeah, definitely call my mom.

follow the pros

Spotting celebs is mostly about being lucky. You look up at the right time and they’re there. But sometimes there are signs that even the most oblivious, hopeful spotter can be on the look out for. The biggest sign is lots of people with cameras. Yes, the paps. I was walking to meet up with friends for lunch when I saw a bunch of guys with cameras (still and video) running down a particular block. I did a little detour, since New York is usually pretty low-key about celebs it would have to be a pretty big deal to bring out the paparazzi. As I turned I immediately saw a small child looking at me. She was being carried, facing me. I knew within a few seconds that it was Suri Cruise. And she was hitching a ride on none other than her mom, Katie Holmes. As a former psycho fan of Dawson’s Creek, I was particularly excited to see Ms. Holmes. I put my rules into effect as I caught up to the pair. I was walking quickly, much faster than them, and I only glanced in enough time to confirm that it was them. Everyone around me was doing essentially the same thing and also doing a small part to insulate them from the paps. With all of us walking quickly around them, it must have been trickier than usual to get a good shot. I did overhear a bit of their conversation and, honestly, it made me pretty sad. Suri was asking Ms. Holmes why the people wouldn’t go away. Ms. Holmes explained they were taking pictures and they should just ignore them, that it was okay. I wanted to reach out to them and agree. But that’s not the way. I kept quiet, kept moving, and left them behind.

two noses are better than one

I’m pretty much a professional celebrity spotter, but even I can miss a good one once in a while. That’s why it’s always smart to travel with someone who also keeps their wits about them. This weekend, my companion and I were walking to a gallery. We crossed at a crosswalk and passed a cute family. As we hit the corner, my companion said under his breath, “That was Brian Cox.” I whipped around and watched the family about to enter a restaurant. I could see the back of the man’s head, but there was no indication that it was the star of X-Men 2 and Running with Scissors. Then, apparently a gentleman, he turned to hold the door for a few exiting patrons. I recognized his profile immediately. My companion and I watched the people who received Mr. Cox’s kindness huddle together, joyful in their encounter. I turned to my companion and gave him his due: a very heartfelt thank you.

breakin’ the rules

My rule is to not bother the famous people I smell. But I didn’t always have that rule. It came out of my first bad experience. I’m going to name names, since it’s still so memorable and changed the way I approach someone I recognize. I was at a Weezer concert in high school and the hottest new MTV VJ, Gideon Yago, was drawing a crowd near the merch stands. I thought he was super cute, so I screwed up the courage to say hello. Lots of people were having him sign tickets or boobs or what have you. I approached and simply said, “I’d just like to say I’m a fan, and shake your hand.” I put my hand out and Mr. Yago looked at it like it was dripping with Ebola. Then he said, “Okaaaaay” and gave me the limpest, fishiest handshake of all time. I was mortified and returned to my seat, wishing a pox on the house of Yago.

From that day forward I realized that it was not worth it to say hello to just any old vaguely familiar face. Just spotting them is plenty exciting and still makes for a good story. My mother is still guaranteed to ask me what I said to the person I saw, but I think she’s gotten used to the disappointment that I never say anything.

I’ve only broken the rule twice since the Yago incident. The first time was when I was at school in Boston. I was walking down Boylston St., right along the Common, when in the distance I spotted an older gentleman who looked extremely familiar. Surprisingly my eyesight is actually not that great, so it took me a minute or two to realize I was looking at one of my favorite authors, Stephen King.

I took a deep breath, walked slowly up to him, and said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you Stephen King?” He said that he was and that I wasn’t bothering him at all. He put out his hand for me to shake and I actually (no lie) felt my eyes completely fill with tears. “I love your books,” I said. He thanked me and walked away.

The second time I broke the rule was my first year working in New York. My supervisor came into the office and asked me if I was a fan of What Not to Wear. I so am, so she told me to run out to a store across the street because they were filming inside. I essentially sprinted to the store and immediately spotted Stacy London counseling a fashion victim at the front of the store, surrounded by a camera crew. I looked around and saw that Clinton Kelly was in the back, completely alone. This was when I came up with my new plan for approaching: act surprised. I knew exactly where Mr. Kelly was, but I wandered in his direction with my best oblivious face on. When I got to him, I acted as shocked as possible (pretty easy to do when you’re as excited as I was) and gave him a cute, “I know who you are!” To my relief, he gave me the nicest grin. I said, “I love your show!” He thanked me, shook my hand, and I walked away.

So the rule is do not approach, do not bother, do not photograph. But if you’re a really big fan, if you are extremely polite, go for it. Because sometimes you’ll get a Stephen King experience and sometimes you’ll get the Gideon Yago. But the Yagos are what poxes were made for.

quickie

Yesterday. Lunch time. Tom Wolfe on the corner, chatting with two older gentleman. Dressed in a purple-blue top hat with matching cape.

double vision

Seeing a famous person once is lucky. So what does it mean to see the same person twice? I don’t know, but if it meant I had hit a jackpot, I’d be a pretty rich woman.

Here are my double-dippers:

Rufus Wainwright, the singer-songwriter-babe, must live in the neighborhood where I work. I’ve spotted his adorable self within the same two blocks, a year or so apart.

Parker Posey, indie actress, is one of two celebs a friend has almost approached because she thought it was me. My friend was looking for me in a crowded restaurant when she thought she spotted me. The height, hair color and cut were just right. But at the last second the face turned and it was Miss Posey.

Chris Noth, of Law & Order and Sex and the City, is a New York fixture so seeing him wasn’t much of a shock. Seeing him twice almost was.

Josh Charles, one of my favorite actors, was probably one of my most exciting spottings. A friend and I were waiting for another person inside a sweet cupcake bakery on the west side of town. Two gentlemen came in, Mr. Charles (of Dead Poet’s Society, Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead, and Sports Night) and Ethan Hawke. They were both very charming and friendly to everyone. I decided to jump up and stand next to Mr. Charles. I wanted to say something, but I just smiled instead and he smiled back. When he and Mr. Hawke left, I must have looked so happy, one of the bakers started asking me if I was a big fan. He was so happy for me, my friend and I got free cupcakes. The second sighting was less eventful, just passing in the street.

If there’s a third, Mr. Charles, I may have to buy you a cupcake.

home field advantage

I just got back from a trip to their turf: Los Angeles, California.

My first trip there was a few years back and my sightings were paltry. A pop star’s ex-boyfriend. A guy from MadTV. Some dude who was on Sex and the City once. One of the Scotts from Felicity. Oh, and Suge Knight, who was my hands-down favorite.

Because of this, my expectations for this trip were low. LA was relatively cool, in the low 60s, and surprisingly rainy. The real stars would be in warmer climes, frolicking in bikinis and diamonds, keeping their abs out there in the public eye.

On the first day, I panned a few specks of gold. Walking through Beverly Hills, a tall, rude woman hogging the sidewalk caught my eye. My friends only wanted to know who had such bad manners they refused to budge. I explained that even though she basically has one credit to her name, Natasha Henstridge of Species fame still rules the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, in front of a crowded restaurant, a young woman the shade of a clay pot caught my eye. Her skin was so deeply orange I couldn’t help but stare. And when she turned her head I was rewarded for my interest: Amanda Bynes. She was accompanied by a costar, blonde and anonymous-ish.

The trip only had one further sighting: Kat Von D, of LA Ink. My friend and I were a bit bolder, pretending to be interested in items closest to her. Other than that, there was no one, but no matter, I was full on delicious LA grub, picking up every strange necklace I could find at the Fairfax Flea Market, and spending some QT with the old college crowd.

At LAX, I sniffed out of habit rather than expectation. An older actress walking by Starbucks looked familiar, but I couldn’t come up with a name. A young woman who was probably Allison Pill (of Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen). But at the gate, waiting for the doors to open, I was smacked in the face with the scent. A-List. Blonde, perfect hair a total giveaway. Kyra Sedgwick. The doors opened for her while the rest of us waited. In first class, she hid her face, but I knew.

I knew, Kyra.