Fashion stars fade as heavens open on new cafe

By John Aglionby

JAKARTA (JP): Couture and calories do not usually combine well. It is rare to find a person who can afford the former, and chooses to indulge in the latter.

Claudia Schiffer, Naomi Campbell, Elle MacPherson and Christy Turlington, four of the most beautiful -- and arguably most calorie-conscious -- women in the world, are on a worldwide mission to change all that.

Through their Fashion Cafes they are integrating high class fashion and lower-class food in what their partner, entrepreneur Tommaso Buti, describes as "...much more than just dining. It is a food fashion and fantasy experience".

Naomi and Claudia opened the Jakarta Fashion Cafe, the first in Asia, last Saturday night. The venue is worth a visit just to see the memorabilia, although as with most designer outfits, few of the clothes are wearable unless one is taller than 1.80 meters and weighs less than 50 kilos.

The most fascinating items are well above eye-level. Just inside the front door is a wonderful 18th-century chandelier with fake candles. What catches the eye however are the dozen funky hats that are used as lamp shades.

Suspended from the ceiling in the ground-floor bar is a silver and gold 1960s motorbike. Possibly out of place in a fashion cafe, it nonetheless adds a little je ne sais quoi to the surroundings.

Equally impressive are the mannequins behind the bar. Clad in leather jackets, they have television screens for heads, enabling serious drinkers to view the events on stage without having to leave the comfort of their size six barstool.

To describe the grand opening as a flop would be harsh, but neither the eclectic mix of glitterati invited, nor the entertainers, generated an atmosphere to savor or remember.

The guests were divided into `A' and `B' teams. The `A' team, the rich and famous, were allowed into the cafe itself while the `B' team, those who thought they were rich and those who wanted to be famous, were left outside under a huge canopy at the mercy of the elements.

And the elements gatecrashed spectacularly. An hour before the two catwalk queens were due to arrive the heavens opened. The torrential rain was quickly followed by a cacophony of thunder and a celestial light show.

Raw, the cafe's resident band, from Memphis, Tennessee, was promptly driven off the specially erected outdoor stage as water poured down onto them, soaking performers, instruments and audience alike.

Not even the small platform on which the opening ceremony was to take place escaped. The glass awning above it provided little more protection than a sieve. Men in green anoraks with rubber brushes worked ceaselessly but in vain to keep the area dry.

Forced to comply with the demands of live television, the supermodels were unfashionably punctual. Proceeded by a troupe of traditional Indonesian dancers, they squelched their way on to the platform to be greeted by the evening's host, Singaporean entertainer Najip Ali.

Dressed in a green suit that would not have looked out of place in a pantomime, and massive sunglasses, Ali resembled something halfway between a garden frog and an Irish leprechaun.

His behavior was equally restless. Hopping around hyperactively while maintaining a constant stream of mindless platitudes, his permanent bonhomie soon became irritating.

Looking stunning, Naomi and Claudia smiled through it all. Naomi wore a shimmering pink and gold above-the-knee gown and delicate gold chains around each upper arm. With slits up the side that left little to the imagination, the dress was held together with clips similar to the ones on "that dress" Liz Hurley wore to the premiere of Four Weddings and a Funeral.

In contrast Claudia wore black. On anyone else her outfit would have looked like a secondhand garbage bag but she just about carried it off -- even though she had left her bra at home. It was complemented with fishnet stockings and chunky calf-high leather boots.

After all the expensive preparations -- the red carpet covered in dried blossom, the gamelan orchestra, the food, the outdoor stage and mannequins dressed in flowers -- the opening ceremony itself was a surprisingly cheap affair.

After the models jointly pressed a button with finely manicured fingers, a few paper streamers cascaded onto the crowd. But it was as if they had come from party poppers fired by people hiding in the wings. And that was it.

The entertainment that followed inside on the 20-meter-long runway that dominates the cafe oscillated between the enjoyable and the ridiculous.

The chamber music was barely audible, the fashion show was over before most people realized it had begun, and Taylor Dayne's performance, apart from the odd flash of respectability, merely reminded us why she has not been heard of for the last five years.

Najip and his two backing singers were the only class act. Lively, talented and unpretentious, they got the crowd of barely interested businessmen and their wives tapping along.

And then one almost felt sorry for him as he went around the cafe interviewing the audience while the next act was being prepared. The answers were either monosyllabic or unintelligible with the only bright spot being an 11-year-old child in a denim jacket who was clearly lapping up every moment. Put her on the stage or bring back Raw, I thought.

Yes there were plenty of beautiful women there, yes the food was tasty and yes it all ran on time but it was really an event best viewed from home. Because then you could have switched it off.