It's finally official: The only remaining Barbie fans are effusively extravagant gay men and Emmy Award-winning Sex and the City designer Patricia Field.

Field hosted a launch party for her new Barbie collection at her Bowery Street store last night, and the doll's wholesome feeling was suspiciously missing. The store, draped in pink curtains and pink balloons, was packed with Field's friends, business partners, and more drag queens than the cocaine stall in the backstage bathroom of a Scissor Sisters concert. There was fishnet and eyeliner at every turn. There was a mannequin jumping out of a cake in a leopard-print halter dress and pink feather boa. Not exactly your take on America's fabled plaything? How about a lounging blonde in red high heels straddling a golden carousel pole? No? You embarrass yourselves.

Ms. Field says Mattel approached her over a year ago, and she quickly worked to usher the notoriously impossible blonde into the era of Tinsley and Olivia with a line of bags, accessories, and clothing emblazoned with Barbie's loopy signature, pony-tailed profile, and playful demands like "I want my dream house."

Perhaps party-goer Sabrina, who fancies herself "Barbie on steroids" and who managed to "throw together" a blue fishnet flight attendant Barbie outfit for the occasion, summed it up best: "Everybody needs a little Barbie. She's everything." Others were not so affectionate.

"I don't give a shit about Barbie," said an artist named Muffinhead who sported a faux sunnyside-up egg as a hat. But he did concede gay men's unwavering devotion to both the plastic pop icon and Patricia Field. "Barbie is unreal," he says. "She's utter glamour, utter beauty. This was just bound to happen."

Beyond that, the party seemed to have very little to do with Barbie. In fact, there was only one pint-size plastic doll in the whole place—a red-haired gift Mattel presented to Field in thanks for a job well done. When Radar inquired into the price of the items, a golden spandexed staffer named Verushka dug through her cleavage in search of the price list, flipped up her minidress to check the strap of her G-string, and shrugged. Batting her glittery eyelids, she would only confess that it had been an "interesting night."