On Saturday night the Diane von Furstenberg store in West Hollywood hosted a benefit for the Silverlake Conservatory of Music, the non-profit music school founded by Red Hot Chili Pepper bassist  Flea in 2001. The 100 or so guests included musicians like Perry Farrell, fashionable folk wearing DVF, a smattering of gas-passing teenage boys (don't ask), and several supermodels toting their genetically blessed babies – most notably Flea's fiancee Frankie Rayder and their four-month-old daughter Sunny Bebop. (Yup, daddy's that into music.)    Justifying the event's $150 ticket price was a half-hour stripped-down set from three of the four Chili Peppers. The boys were in prime form, fresh off the recording of their new album Stadium Arcadium, due in May. A still-foxy Anthony Kiedis joked that they'd rehearsed for all of 37 seconds for this gig. “Next week we're at the laundromat,” he said. And then the guy whose most famous outfit was a tube sock claimed that “Diane requested that everybody get naked.” Maybe Kiedis hoped we'd all start wildly Californicating, but the only orgies I saw involved clothing and credit cards.    The trio did a crowd-pleasing version of “Under the Bridge,” while a song from the new album got Frankie Rayder singing along with those amazing, pouty lips of hers. And speaking of lips and hotties, check out sexy Style Councilor Lina Lecaro, dressed to the nines in a vintage Diane von Furstenberg dress. Obsessed with all things lip-shaped (you should see her office, with its Dali-esque lip couch), Lina saucily struck a pose in front of this groovy Warhol print backdrop.      And if we'd had a spare 300 bucks, Lina and I both would have walked out with new wrap dresses in DVF's original 1970s animal prints. I had my eye on a slinky snakeskin number in shades of brown and beige. Neither of us tried our luck with the raffle (a dress was one of the prizes), but one extremely fortunate fellow took home three of five prizes (fair's fair, said Flea, in response to the protests of a party organizer who didn't think one guy should score all the booty.)     However the real action seemed to be going down outside the store. Finishing my champagne and trying to surreptitiously observe John Frusciante, whom I used to have a big crush on (for me, talent always trumps mental instability), I watched Anthony Kiedis mysteriously take off sprinting down the street and around the corner, never to be seen again. I tried to chat with Flea about the school and its needs but the new dad was just a little distracted. Our conversation went something like this:Me: Do you have two seconds?Flea: Not really…my wife…Me: Well, I don't want to bother you.Flea: You know, this has already taken more than two seconds.Me: Um, yeah. Well, I write a blog for LA Weekly and I was just hoping to get a quote from you about the Conservatory.Flea: Well, we just want to keep providing free lessons and musical instruments to children. Gee, really? And with that, Flea hurdled the barrier separating the invited guests from the Melrose riff raff, grabbed his bass from the valet, jumped in his car, and drove off. Apparently this is what it takes to keep Frankie Rayder happy. And you know what? I can't really blame him one bit.

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