Fashion journalist Derek Blasberg is a professional friend to the stars. Gareth McLean discovers the man behind the glittering feed
Blasberg beams as he greets this woman who apologises for missing his birthday. (It’s 22 April which is also World Earth Day, a coincidence, Blasberg jokes, because “I’m so grounded.”) The woman tried to send flowers but she’s so unsure of where he is these days that she wasn’t certain of the best address to send them to. Blasberg demurs: that doesn’t matter. It’s a lovely surprise to see her here, given there are no wedding dresses on show anywhere, he teases, impishly. But he’s forgetting himself; he introduces me to the woman. And this, he says, is Vera.
And that’s how I met Vera Wang. As we head off – after Blasberg’s invited Wang to a party later at his friend Lauren Santo Domingo’s house, naturally – I tell him I’m impressed: not everyone gets called Honeybear by Vera Wang. Self-deprecating as ever, Blasberg shrugs. Maybe Vera calls everyone that. Maybe she’s forgotten his name.