Kempt Goes to Cannes
After disappearing late last week without a peep, our intrepid editorial director Randy Goldberg finally resurfaced—telling stories of the Riviera and a close encounter with Sir Robert DeNiro. Of what really went on there, we have only this record…
When our friends at Stella Artois asked if I had a couple of days to drop by Cannes, bunk down at Chez Jacques at the near-perfect Carlton Hotel, help close out the Festival and generally use the word Riviera as a verb, I obliged. I brought a tuxedo, a pair of trunks and an appetite for le destruction.
As for what I found there, all the rumors are true: yachts made of solid gold, an endless fountain of truly mesmerizing creatures, gala-side dealmaking, Chanel breezes, 30-euro cocktails, le Palm D’Or, flashbulb sunburns, method acting during hotel lobby brawls (that would be Mr. Gosling), enough rose to drown a desperate housewife, and, of course, the gracious hospitality of Jacques D’Azur.
La Riviera
Pierside in Cannes
French Things
More French things
The Equipment
Jacques D’Azur’s pad at The Carlton
The Carlton Hotel
On The Carpet
The Closing Ceremonies
All the Winners
Hey, Jude
Catherine Deneuve sneaks a smoke break
Our esteemed editorial director, on the left, with a couple pals, no big deal.—R.B.
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- — Randy Goldberg
