At the posh Escada boutique on Michigan Avenue’s high-fashion row, the guests of honor glided gracefully down the red carpet, decked out in stylish tuxedos and ball gowns.
As camera flashes bounced off their jewelry, onlookers craned their necks to catch a glimpse of impeccably groomed nails and perfectly coiffed hair. Each attendee was more glamorous than the last.
Oh, yeah, and the owners looked good too.
At the inaugural Fur Ball last weekend, co-hosted by Escada and PAWS (Pets Are Worth Saving), about 300 Chicago-area animal lovers and 50-plus dogs gathered for a black-tie event like no other. The four-story space was transformed into a canine utopia, complete with toy-filled pooch parks, professional dog masseurs, free puppy portraits and the desperate hope that someone would drop a bite of freshly carved Smith & Wollensky.
Throughout the store, models draped in Escada’s newest collection posed atop Astroturf-covered pedestals. As guests and their pets mingled among couture clothing more costly than most Gold Coast mortgage payments, PAWS volunteers circulated with rescued pups eager for homes. Honorary chair Juanita Jordan was on hand, accessorized by one of her two Maltese dogs.
An overhead spotlight projected a cascade of glowing pawprints onto guests as they ascended the grand spiral staircase. On the second floor, humans were treated to smoked salmon and hand-carved roast beef, washed down at a top-shelf martini bar by the sale rack.
For the dogs, the real fun began on the third floor, at the no-humans-allowed VIP Puppy Lounge. Lap dogs and Labradors alike were treated to private massages, aromatherapy treatments and classical music.
Joy Degani, a Christian LaCroix-clad West Loop anesthesiologist, brought Coby, her large red Doberman. After his massage–accented with chamomile oils and accompanied by a concert violinist–Coby was reportedly “on his back, paws up,” Degani said.
Not all dogs are nearly so fortunate; that’s where PAWS comes in. The non-profit organization began five years ago, when founder Paula Fasseas opened a low-cost, spay-neuter clinic in Pilsen/Little Village in response to Chicago’s high canine euthanasia rate. PAWS has since branched out to adoption services and animal-abuse education.
“Shelters are not a solution,” Fasseas said. “The public is a solution.”
Particularly the Chicago public, which Fasseas said is chock-full of passionate animal lovers eager to adopt homeless pets.
Like Sushi, a 4-year-old poodle who had been found in a large trash bin with wire wrapped around a front paw. Recovered from a PAWS-funded amputation, Sushi found herself being toted around in a red quilted satin vest at the gala as Fasseas sought out potential adopters.
Caryn Lerner, president and chief marketing officer of Escada USA Inc., said her company joined forces with PAWS as a way to serve the community in a unique way. A dog owner herself, Lerner joked that she wasn’t so much worried about the animals ruining the spring/summer 2003 resort collection as she was about the fact that “this is the only event I can remember being shown up by the dogs.”
Indeed, it did seem some pups, sporting Escada leashes designed exclusively for the Fur Ball, were competing with Escada-clad board members for attention. Perhaps the most elaborately costumed dog was Daisy, a 5-pound Chihuahua dressed in full cowboy attire, including a cowboy hat, wire-rimmed spectacles and rodeo-wear. A 105-pound Burmese mountain dog sported dapper tuxedo cuffs, natch.
Dogs lapped up more luxury on the fourth floor, which was bathed in Escada-pink candles and decorated with elaborate vases lined with–what else?–Milk-Bones.
As the band played in the shoe section, PAWS animal-adoption counselor Michelle Kraybill stood nearby, looking beautiful in a strapless black gown. Unfortunately, her neckline was accessorized with scratches from a playful 10-week-old German shepherd mix up for adoption.
Back on the second level, professional animal communicator Amy Harris had set up shop in a dressing room. As Maggie, a fluffy white Maltese who splits her time between Chicago and San Francisco, was shown in, her owner started the session by lamenting, “She hates me. She’s Daddy’s girl.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” Harris said, interpreting Maggie’s hostility as a desire for unconditional love.
“How does she feel about obedience?”
“She’ll do it when she has to.”
This was bad news, considering Maggie is an obedience-competition dog.
Still, the animal seems to be urging her owner to “let go of the [competition] results,” Harris said. “She’s not as attached to the results. She also says when she gets there, she knows you’re tense.”
A prescription for Bach flower remedies was suggested, and Maggie was back to frolicking among the $3,000 jackets.
Overall, the pooches were well-behaved–“No dogs have peed on the clothes yet,” Coby’s owner Degani quipped–and the hosts deemed the evening a success, having raised more than $100,000 for PAWS.
“It’s a magnificent store,” Fasseas said. “The aura is fun, magical, it’s an incredibly unusual experience.” Plus, “Pets bring out the best in everyone, and we’re excited that our privileged pups are here to honor the homeless ones and to help save their lives.”
But what about the guests who, after watching their pooches get pampered, may have suffered a touch of canine envy? Overheard late that evening on the elevator down: “When I die, I want to be reincarnated as my dog.”
