When the invitation for the Valentine Ball at SFMOMA arrived, announcing a Brazilian theme, a feeling of dread crept in. Hadn't we just been through a Brazilian onslaught (the mannequins, the waxes, the endless rounds of caipirinhas at Paris nightclub Favela Chic) circa 1999? Don't we see Gisele's face often enough?

To everyone's surprise, it was the jolt San Francisco needed to combat economic and social doldrums, if only for a night. Black-tie events around town have a reputation for being stodgy affairs, with guests looking like their bow ties have been tied on too tight. But the combination of lush decor, vibrant, colorful fashions (a sea of red and pink gowns), and Brazilian dancers shaking their derrieres faster than a hummingbird's flutter put a smile on everyone's face. Or was it the strong cocktails?

Veteran partygoer Charlotte Shultz, who founded the ball, said it was the best one she's been to—and that includes the extravaganzas she produced herself.

After Shultz made a speech, in which she commented on the refreshing mix of generations in attendance, and was presented with a diamond-studded watch by Chanel's Stephanie von Stein, Charlotte and hubby George Shultz were the first to hit the dance floor. Others joined in immediately, including Charles and Helen Schwab and Linda and Ed Plant (of the mammoth leasing company).

"It was a who's who of power brokers on the dance floor," said one socialite.

The men of the moment were former Banana Republican Paul Price and his brother Skip, who produced the affair to much acclaim. SFMOMA's lobby was barely recognizable after the Prices covered it in oversized hibiscus and other tropical fauna. S.F. Ballet auxiliary president Sandy Mandel, admitting disappointment with a newspaper account of January's ballet opening as "staid," praised Paul for his work. "Everyone's been buzzing about the decor," Mandel offered. Indeed, PR dynamo and social gadfly Marsha Monro Wright told the Socialist, "it's like his coming-out party—everyone keeps asking me who he is."

While the Valentine Ball was a success for its mixing of heavy hitters and up-and-comers (last year the younger set dashed for the door after dinner), ballet opening night kept the generations separate, with two dinners (with different price tags, of course).

It's a testament to the caste system in San Francisco that a few weren't even aware there were two dinners—one thrown by Encore, the ballet's junior committee, at the War Memorial Opera House; and the official feast (read: the Daddy Warbucks crowd), in City Hall. At the performance, one Encore guest seemed confused, perhaps a touch horrified, when she heard about the dinner across the street, where older VIPs had congregated. Had she missed out on the action?

She needn't have worried: The Encore dinner by many accounts was more fun. At the official dinner, a fourth-generation San Franciscan (but who's counting, right?), upon surveying the cocktail crowd and

initially not seeing society's usual suspects, speculated, "I bet there's another VIP party somewhere."

That wasn't the case. And eventually, the A-list was corralled into the foyer, where the city socialarchy's tables were located, perhaps to make the room's net worth exceed that of most third-world countries. The density made for difficult mingling, unless you wanted to squeeze past society's bigwigs, who stayed close to their tables. Instead, the Socialist made a beeline for Denise Hale, who showed up in a resplendent Gianfranco Ferre coat (in fashion circles, Hale's been nicknamed Mrs. Gianfranco because of her close friendship with the Milanese designer).

But it was Hale's new ten-carat yellow diamond ring that got the conversation rolling at a lunch at Farallon two days after the ballet opening.

"Prentiss would have wanted me to have it," Hale said, adding that it was the first diamond ring she had purchased for herself. Hale had organized the lunch for her friend Randall Jones of Worth magazine, who's on a book tour. Those turning up at Farallon included John Traina, Tatiana Sorokko, Harry de Wildt, and Vanessa Getty.

Sorokko, just back from her usual European misadventures, told the Socialist she was at work planning a new home to go on a piece of property in Marin she and gallerist hubby Serge Sorokko recently purchased.

"We're not going to make the mistake we did with our Manhattan apartment," the sultry Russian former mannequin said, remarking on the bureaucratic hassles of getting special permits and importing materials. "We're using only materials we can get from nearby!" At least she's supporting the local economy.

On the topic of designing houses, interiors gal Kendall Wilkinson Robinson's baby shower took place at the St. Francis Hotel. It must have been the first-ever combination baby shower, informal Escada fashion show, and press event in San Francisco, but, well, some folks do things differently. Call it cross-marketing synergy...Marsha Monro Wright summoned Kendall's friends Alice Wiley Hall, Madame Chiang (of the Mandarin Restaurant, and mother of P.F. Chang), and Kathy Hill Perasso, among others, to don their favorite hats (it's fun and will make for good pictures!) for tea and some dish. Robinson is due in May.

While Robinson had yet to come up with names for the little one, Chronicle scribe Jane Ganahl dropped plenty of them—those of the "marginally known." For three years, Ganahl has curated a confrérie of artists, writers, and other creative professionals (yes, there are some still around—barely) at the Foreign Cinema once a month. At the third anniversary party, Ganahl's boss Phil Bronstein (chatting with a lovely) dropped by the festivities, as did writers Po Bronson and Cameron Tuttle (of the Bad Girl's Guides), and Oscar nominee (for special effects for Star Wars, Episode 2) Scott Balcerek.

"It's a great group, because you get the support without the competition," said

singer-songwriter Austin Willacy.

Billy and Vanessa Getty made guest appearances, and while neither is officially a creative professional, Billy did his share of arts powwowing by deconstructing that milestone of American cultural decline Are You Hot? "They need more Simons [from American Idol]," Billy offered, disappointed with the tepid criticism. Meanwhile, Vanessa told the Socialist that she and Billy are expecting a second child, due in September. Now, that's what we call a hot tip.


Coming Attractions: The socialist goes "woof" at the Bark and Whine Ball.