"Ashley, you moron," one half of the Olsen twinship shrieks, head-to-toe in eye-wateringly exquisite womenswear of her own design. "How could you get this mixed up? The Met Gala isn't till, like, May, and we're at this bogus party?" Her sister, identical, brooding, a beautiful ghoul, replies: "Mary-Kate, puh-lease get off my back for like, five minutes already... You got a light?"
Except, this wasn't the Olsen twins, luxury warlocks and purveyor of fine clothes at The Row. This was Neil Patrick Harris and his husband, David Burtka, at Heidi Klum's now notorious Halloween bash, and a shoo-in for first place on the best-dressed podium. It couldn't be more perfect – aligning stars of blonde wigs, glass-cutting cheekbones, black robes, and Marlboro Golds. And, most importantly, the haunted stares that regularly hypnotise the fashion scene. *You will buy this very well-cut, very lovely, very expensive overcoat. You will buy three of them*.
Besting Klum is no small feat, either. Her party – now in its 20th year – has seen the host rummage through the best of Mr Benn's magical fancy dress shop: 2011 was Planet Of The Apes; 2015 was Jessica Rabbit, complete with beachball breasts; in 2016, Heidi Klum came as Heidi Klum. Six of them, in fact.
And yet Halloween's queen was dethroned by The Row's co-monarchs. In a sea of demons and sexy nurses, it's better to be a nocturnal figure of fashion mythology. It's best to be both of them.
