Fantasia. Grammy winner, 2004 “American Idol” idol, Fantasia Barrino’s as fantasia as her name.
Gold and black snugsnug dress, gold and black highhigh heels, major gold necklace, gold bracelet, gold bag, storeful of gold rings, black sideswept hair. Fantasiacal. You wouldn’t miss her if she were in Cleveland and you were standing in Newark.
“I’m coming to Broadway,” she said. “ ‘After Midnight’ opens at the Brooks Atkinson in November. I know it’ll be long rehearsals, but we haven’t started yet. It’s about our Cotton Club night spot of the ’30s — Ella Fitzgerald, Lena Horne, Josephine Baker, Mahalia Jackson — and I want to be perfect.
“The offer came to me maybe because I’m fatalistic. Things happen for a reason. I’m home one night. Doing nothing. I’m tired of that music on the radio. It’s s – – t. So I’m listening to Billie Holiday recordings. Getting into the mood of the old school.
“So, can you believe it, I get a call about this musical — while I’m listening to that music. It’s to be 90 minutes of the era’s great jazz. With a band onstage. Wynton Marsalis is behind it. And they want glamour and sex.”
We were about to walk into a theater when Fantasia said: “My dress is Zara. Shoes, Jimmy Choo. He’s one of my friends. But I have to go in. I have to sit down. I can’t stand long on these shoes.”
Who’s where
Rocker Alice Cooper and wife surprised Salon Ziba. Both wanted tints. He only landed a haircut, she grabbed a blow-dry . . . At Babylon’s E. Donald Conroy Golf Course, singer Dominick DiPietrantonio and, waiting to play the next hole, nonsinger Leonardo DiCaprio . . . Rep. Paul Ryan at La Guardia’s Delta Terminal C food court . . . If you’re into airports, Ja Rule buying a headphone at Delta Terminal D.
Goodbye to Lynch and Gorme
We just lost Bill Lynch, the rumpled grumpy engine behind David Dinkins. This being campaign time, I remember a 1993 VIP campaign train to DC. Clogging the buffet of eggs, hash, sausage, smoked salmon, bagels, Danish, muffins, fruit, cream cheese, coffee, jams and jellies was chunky cloggee Bill Lynch. On line with Mickey Rooney and Dr. Ruth, Dick Cavett drawled: “We need taller stars.”
Lynch to Cavett: “So why are you here?” Cavett to Lynch: “I promised to help the Bushes pack.”
Another who just took her last bow: Eydie Gorme. Steve and Eydie, back when they were touring, were off a series of 44 one-nighters. Besides luggage they schlepped their own nameplates. Eydie’s dressing-room door always hung the name: “Lou Rawls.” Even starring in Vegas, Steve’s door read “Dionne Warwick.”
Star watch
Everybody’s everywhere: Diane McInerney of “Inside Edition” at Upper East Side’s SoulCycle. Huffing, puffing, toughening up by arriving on Citi Bike. . . Kris Kristofferson and XM’s Brett Winterble flew in from Maui. Kris lives there . . . Commissioner Katherine Oliver inhaling crab cakes at 56th & Second’s new French restaurant Paname.
Ears open
Christopher Peacock, who designed Mariah’s kitchen and the Clintons’ 12 Chappaqua rooms, opening a Cannes showroom . . . Barry Slotnick at jammed newly redone Redeye Grill. It’s famous for 2-pound openfaced lobster pot pie. He didn’t have it . . . Nov. 10 Town Hall. Conversation twixt charming, warm, cuddly Larry David and David Steinberg.
Letters lost
The canopy of Fourth Avenue java spot Think Coffee crashed, and its new one developed an awning malfunction. Key letters went poop. The sign now reads “thin fee.” Per customer Deroy Murdock, “They should change businesses and become Gotham’s cheapest weight loss center.”
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.