Jermaine Dupri’s
Ultra Cool White Party

A party recap covered by
New York Times Best-Selling Author
 Omar  Tyree  . . .

The “Red Carpet” opens at nine o’clock. That was what I read from the So So Def press release on Saturday, August 2nd. So I assumed that Jermaine Dupri’s Stat-Studded White Party would kick off around ten, especially since it was rumored around Atlanta that there would be an after-party later on that night at the Velvet Room. I figured Jermaine and his celebrity friends would be cordial and cool for the media types at the Woodruff Arts Center-all dressed up in white-and then party for real where the media was not invited. You know, it would be a nice and acceptable face in pubic, followed by a real deal, private throw down.

Since I had been recruited by my good media friend to cover the event for her web magazine, I rushed through downtown Atlanta after 8PM, thinking this White Party event would be similar to the Red Carpet film premieres I had attended in Hollywood. And if you're late out in Hollywood, you may not only miss the celebrity interviews and walk throughs, you may not make it inside the event unless you know somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody. They don’t even want your money out there in Cali. Either you’re in or you’re out. So I hoped and prayed that the So So Def Summerfest would not be as time rigid.

So I ironed my cool white clothes, tossed on some good smelling cologne, and sped through Atlanta’s side streets to arrive at the Woodruff Arts Center on Peachtree Street by 9:25 PM, believing that I would be a little bit tardy. But at 9:25, there were only about three dozen folks in attendance, which included the DJ, the sound men, a few photographers, last minute trouble shooters, and a few other folks who regarded an official start time as seriously as I had.

Confused at first, I asked a freelance photographer, “Is the Jermaine Dupri’s White Party supposed to start at ten o’clock or what?” Because it surely didn’t look like it. I had walked right in the place with no line, no bouncers, no cash box or anything.

He shrugged his shoulders and told me, “This is how it goes. We get here early and we wait.”

His explanation detailed a regular media procedure; you have to have incredible patience to cover these events. And even though I have a college degree as a print journalist to cover these affairs thoroughly, I'm more used to being on the other side of the tape recorder and cameras now. So I sized up the situation and laughed.

“Okay, so if this is a normal down South party, then it’ll probably kick off around midnight,” I predicted to the dedicated photographer. “So I’ll come back around eleven and be right on time.” So I made a couple of other runs, met up with a few Atlanta friends, and returned to the Woodruff Arts Center slightly after eleven.

By that time, the bouncers were just starting to form two lines to the left of the entrance; one long, slow line for general admission, and a shorter, faster line for the VIPs. And right in front of the entrance doors, illuminated by bright lights and a So So Def media banner-featuring Ford, Derrty Entertainment, and Vibe Magazine-was the Red Carpet walkway for the celebrity guests. So I stepped up, gave my name and contact information, and posted up with my small, digital camera, awaiting Jermaine and his invited guests to arrive.

“Perfect timing,” I told myself, as I stepped behind the sectioned-off area, joining the media hawks, cameramen, and video-footage reporters. Then the watching and waiting game started again.

While waiting around for the arrival of the big stars, I recognized  William McCray, a big-hearted celebrity media man, who I noticed from television, the internet, reality-shows, or something. Hell, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on where I recognized him from, but his big charm, curly-headed smile, and light-bulb complexion, all wrapped up in a white suit and an added bow-tie, was hard to miss.

So I introduced myself to him and asked what he thought of the event. “Oh, Atlanta’s not Hollywood enough for me,” he commented. “I’m ready to go out to L.A. and do it much bigger. I’ve already interviewed everyone in Atlanta there is to interview. This is just another day in the neighborhood for me.”

Sure enough, when the first celebrities began to arrive at a few ticks before midnight, Big Will established himself at the front of the line with his small tape recorder, an electric smile, and an assistant who snapped all of his pictures. The celebrities then rolled up to the curb in their luxury cars-a group at a time-and gave their keys to the valet before walking through the Red Carpet area to be interviewed and photographed. The special guests including basketball players: Larry Hughes, Derek Anderson and former football player Jamal Anderson; movie stars Regina King, Devyne Stephens, and Larenz Tate, musicians, Trey Songs, Chingy, and Polow Da Don, and many more.

As I relaxed and snapped pictures, my idea was more to report from the scene than to seek individual interviews from the stars. So I allowed the other reporters to do their thing, while I watched it all and made my visual notes. I then turned and surveyed the crowd of cut-line VIPs, as well as the folks paying general admission to see how they were responding to everything. From what I could gather from their energy, the crowd dressed in all white was a wave of relaxed cool. And as the lines continued to refill and move forward, with plenty of IDs being checked and funds being collected, no one got extra excited or acted a fool.

Of course, Jermaine Dupri and his protege Bow Wow didn’t show up until well after midnight. But instead of pandemonium breaking out, the crowd remained ultra civil. I don’t know what I was expecting from them, but whatever it was, it didn’t happen. Maybe they needed Janet Jackson to arrive. I did hear a buzz from the media types and the crowd asking about Janet. I don’t know how much she would have added to the hype, but without her, all I could think about was how low key the event was, particularly Jermaine himself. The man of the hour walked through the Red Carpet affair with Bow Wow right behind him, and everything remained as peaceful as a midnight swimming pool. J. and B.W. did their interviews, their photo ops, and then strolled into the party with no more than a whisper.

At that point, Nelly from Dertty Entertainment had still not arrived. Allen Iverson from the Denver Nuggets had not arrived. Sanaa Lathan from Aliens Verses Predator had no arrived. Gabrielle Union from Daddy’s Little Girls had not arrived, and my legs, feet and ego, were all tired of waiting out there. I had given a 9 AM speech that morning at the National Book Club Convention at the Marriott. I had attended the Bronner Brothers Hair Show at the Georgia World Congress Center. And I had waited outside at the Woodruff Arts Center for nearly two hours straight, watching for Jermaine and his special guests to arrive. And I was done.

So I walked inside the party to see how all of these folks dressed in white were making out in there. And as soon as I walked in, I noticed that everyone had remained ultra cool, which meant there was more standing around than dancing. The Woodruff Arts Center has a huge open lobby area with a double staircase that led to a second floor balcony, overlooking the main floor. That’s where all of the VIPs and special guests were able to separate themselves from the general population. But since the DJ booth was positioned in the middle of the staircase- closer to the main floor-the majority of the folks on the VIP balcony ended up starring down at everyone else, which served to make them look envious of the general population. It looked as the VIPs were all on punishment upstairs. Imagine that.

I then walked through the crowd to see if I could pick out any superstar women and superstar men, and found a few that I made light conversation with. The next thing I knew, Polow Da Don was at the DJ booth insisting over a live microphone that, “M--f--s need to start dancing up in here.” Nevertheless, folks were still hesitant to get their white outfits dirty, I guess. Moments later, Jermaine Dupri and Bow Wow were at the DJ booth themselves. “This here is a m--f--ing party,” Jermaine told the crowd. “Dance!”

Maybe he needed to call it a “Summer Chillfest,” because the crowd refused to move. And to be honest about it, the records the DJ chose to play were not exactly your get-up-and-jam-right-now songs. He was spinning more grooves than jams. He could have dug further in the crates and pulled out more old-school Rocafella, Bad Boy, and Cash Money Millionaire hits from the 90s and early millennium years that were sure to get a slightly older crowd more excited. But a lot of the new music just didn’t have the same urgency. And you can’t play Li’l Wayne all night long. But maybe I missed most of the hotter songs while still standing around outside.

Then the crowd reacted to Gabrielle Union and Sanaa Latham, who had made it inside and up to the DJ booth, escorted by some huge enforcers. Of course, I had missed their reception outside on the Red Carpet, but they sure looked good inside. Both of them did. But they moved so fast off the stage after their introductions, that I couldn’t get a good shot of them with my camera. They then hit the stairs to the VIP section and quickly disappeared. And since the media had been considered as “Red Carpet only”-which means to do your job outside and then leave-I had no connections to join Sanaa and Gabrielle in the VIP section to get a closer shot of them.

When I turned and faced the main dance floor again, Jermaine Dupri was up in the middle of the crowd, grooving with a half dozen lucky ladies in front of the DJ booth. I guess he figured he would finally lead by example and show them all how to dance. Well, that was good for him and the excited group of girls who dance around him, but the rest of the folks in the party remained coy. So I smiled at the scene, with a growling stomach-at close to two o’clock in the morning-and decided to retire to hunt for something filling to eat before it got too late.

As far as the white party was concerned; a party is a party is a party. Sometimes folks feel like dancing; sometimes they don’t. But for the sponsors, the crowd was definitely there, and plenty of money had been made, even during a slow American economy. So at the end of the night, the party did what is was supposed to do. It brought a large group of participating customers into one arena to enjoy the presence of those who had become successful in music, sports and entertainment, and the mature ladies and gentlemen got to remain clean in their white outfits; a mass display of ultra cool.

So next time, maybe I’ll go after those up close and personal interviews in the VIP section instead, to create some classic drama of my own. And now I know why the masses love chaos over civility. The unruly energy of disaster gives them something much more to talk about. So stay tuned as I dig deeper into the world of celebrity affairs.

Omar Tyree, is a New York Times best-selling author and a 2001 NAACP Image Award recipient for Outstanding Literature. Tyree's latest novel, Pecking Order, a captivating novel about celebrity parties and the promotions game, will be published in September by Simon & Schuster. $24.00. Tyree will now cover national parties and events and conduct engaging interviews for various magazines, web-zines and his own Flyy Life blog at @ www.OmarTyree.com.