-A makeup station where guests could have their lipstick done in Anastasia’s red lip look.
-A display of some of the costumes from the masquerade ball scene.
-A bar with food and drinks.
-A photo area where guests could have their picture taken with the masked men in front of a wall of roses, with props including boas and masks.
-The film’s costume designer settled into a lounge chair where, presumably, a person could ask her questions.
The second most important part: drinking
UniversalI overheard a woman ask one of the many (there were probably 20) masked men his name, to which he replied, “Christian, of course!” Anna, who arrived after me, said she caught one of the guys checking his script as she came down the stairs. Her first observation, like mine, was, “Everyone's so dressed up. Didn't they come from work [like we are]?” I ventured a guess: “I think they’re not all press. I think they’re…fans?” Turns out, I was right. These women had come from all over the country—all over the globe, actually—to see this movie with the night’s guest of honor: Fifty Shades author E.L. James, who would be doing a Q&A before a screening of the unrated version.
And these women were having a good time. They were chatting, flirting with the masked men, networking, and making friends. They were also, as Anna and I were, drinking champagne, wine, and the night's signature cocktails: "The Christian" (too strong) and "The Anastasia" (pink and so good). I noticed that the movie stills decorating the wall behind the bar were of Ana and Ana alone, and then I realized what was so fun about drinking cocktails with this group of people: It was just ladies.
I mean, there were perhaps three male journalists there—and the aforementioned masked escorts—but none of them were drinking or even talking all that much. My number one complaint about the bar scene in New York is that for me, it's hard to completely enjoy being with my friends or let myself get really tipsy because there's always the chance that some asshole will try to feel someone up or pick a fight. I know of women who have been assaulted in the bathroom, drugged by the bartender, pickpocketed at a happy hour. I'm not saying that women are never guilty of these behaviors, or that a person can't have a good time in a co-ed public setting. But by and large, it's just easier to get drunk around a bunch of other women. Without signing a contract or establishing a safeword (har har har), I felt protected as hell. And tipsy!
After transferring our champagne into plastic cups, we filed into the screening room and found gift bags on our seats, which contained the following:
