Bobby Moynihan, Vanessa Bayer and Abby Elliott on the High Line.
Penn Badgley was relaxed and sincere as he looked The Observer dead in the eye. It was the kind of human engagement that warms your heart just a little. We weren’t at all surprised when two crazed girls almost ripped the sleeve of our jacket off when we parted ways after our conversation with Mr. Badgley, and wished him well on his impending trip to Africa.
Last night at sunset, Coach threw a carnival-themed summer kick-off atop the High Line, and a slew of actors and actresses came to the West Side to welcome the impending heat wave. Among them was Maggie Gyllenhaal (looking sleek in a black trench, oversize sunglasses and red lips) and a dapper Chris Noth who both (separately) galavanted in just as quickly as they vanished into the night.
After pushing through an overstuffed human pile-up by the dunk tank—where perfectly sculpted male specimens were splashing around—it was a relief to bump into a laid back crew of cool kids: Vanessa Bayer, Abby Elliott and Bobby Moynihan from Saturday Night Live.
“I wanna get as many pretzels as I can!” Ms. Bayer shouted over the reggaeton. “There’s four different toppings!” she said enthusiastically—the antithesis of her monotone impersonation of Kourtney Kardashian.
Near the photo booth, we crossed paths with an adorable Kate Mara who told The Observer she was currently filming in Baltimore through September, but on her days off she always tries to comes back to the city. Ms. Mara gushed about her recent obsession with with Mexican restaurants.
“Have you been to Tacombi on Elizabeth?” Ms. Mara asked us. ”The best guacamole.”
By the bar, The Observer ran into Anna Kendrick (brother in tow) who was bouncing up and down to “Your Love” by The Outfield, which was being digitally disseminated by DJ Kiss.
“I know I’m such a dork,” Ms. Kendrick giggled, referring to her dance moves. We laughed about how undeniably infectious the pop tunes were and she adamantly agreed. “They’re trying to get us to a place where we’re like…” and then she broke into a wild B-52-style arm bop. We loved it, dorky or not.
After the sun had set and the corn dogs had gone out of circulation, we caught up with Mr. Badgley who told us about his favorite New York haunts.
“I know it sounds cliche but I just love Central Park. It’s so massive that there are parts that people haven’t ever seen, and you wouldn’t even know you were in New York,” he said, sipping a Stella Artois.
A few weeks ago, The Observer had seen him corralling furniture into a truck. We asked Mr. Badgley if he was helping a friend or had recently relocated.
“Yeah, it was me. I moved to Brooklyn,” he cooly stated. We asked where in Brooklyn. Williamsburg? Cobble Hill?
“It’s where everyone lives in Brooklyn,” he said.
We were slightly put off by the smug answer until the aforementioned two women stuffed into Herve Leger dresses and teeter-tottering atop six-inch stilettos nearly knocked us down a minute later. ”What did you say to him?” they said seething and snarling.
Don’t worry, Mr. Badgley. Discretion granted.
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