“Are there really any Republicans here?”

“Yeah, all the tall skinny blondes.”

So it went among fidgety guests at the bipartisan Election Night party hosted by film mogul Harvey Weinstein, society’s Georgette Mosbacher, Cindi Leive of Glamour magazine and GQ’s Jim Nelson. It happened at the spacious Public House restaurant on East 41st Street in NYC.

The weather was downright sultry, and though the invite said nine o’clock PM, guests were pouring in at 8:30. The invite also said “casual attire” but this admonition was ignored by many. It was jackets, ties and quite a few “little black dresses.” (Maybe they were the Republicans!) Harvey himself, who can be sartorially challenged, looked spiffy in a suit. But his gorgeous wife, Georgina Chapman, eclipsed him, which is as it should be. She was wearing a short, tight, intricately baubled, bangled and beaded number. It was one of her own designs. “This is not fair!” said a dressed-down woman chatting up Mrs. Weinstein. “The invite said ‘casual.’ You look like you’re going to a movie premiere, or about to star in a movie!”

Georgina laughed huskily — like a movie star. “Oh, I’m sorry. But there’s no such thing as ‘casual’ when you’re a designer. I kind of feel the responsibility to show my work. I’m really not the casual type anyway. Well, when I’m all alone at home. Then, maybe.”

The other bombshell of note was Ms. Mosbacher, one of the hosts. Though conservative politically — a veteran of the early Bush the Elder years — she “put on the dog” in case her guy won. She wore something black and snug and upon her generous bosom rested a fantastic gold necklace. It looked like an opulent space satellite. Well, it could certainly be seen from space. At one point, Georgette was overheard saying, “It’s my last gold. The last gold I can afford.” Now we know the financial crisis is for real.

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Spotted jammed against each other, or squeezed into booths were such as Gina Gershon, Jessica Alba, Gov. Pataki, Charlie Rose, James Lipton, Ed Rollins, Walter Isaacson, Robert Morgenthau, Salman Rushdie, Allen Grubman,  Michael Imperioli and the super-smart, ubiquitous columnist Roger Friedman. Also James Franco, who caused many hearts to flutter on both sides of the aisle, and Matthew Hiltzik, who used to toil brilliantly for Harvey back in the old Miramax days. He now has his own company, Hiltzik Strategies.

The crowd was not jubilant, right off. Even Harvey said, “I’m worried.” He glanced at one of the many big TV screens, which were not reporting any good Obama news yet and said, “Really worried.” Then he went off with his usual gusto to greet his guests as they arrived. 

To lessen the tension, perhaps, the place was soothingly lit by hundreds of small votive candles. Whatever happened, everybody would look great, even as they wept. On each table and all along the bar were big bowls of white jellybeans, though they looked more like capsules.

“Are you sure these are jellybeans? I bet it’s cyanide in case Obama loses,” said one Democrat. “Why don’t you bite into it and find out,” quipped a tall thin blonde nearby. Drinks flowed freely, and trays of delicious bite-sized goodies were passed around. But I really doubt that many people had the stomach to dine before arriving. They should have been serving cheeseburgers. People waiting for election results need fuel!

As the guests continued to pour in, and the noise level increased, it became harder to hear what was going on, with the looming TV screens, each broadcasting a different channel. The numbers were up there, but many were straining to hear the anchors and pundits comment. “Look, look. Keith Olbermann hasn’t made one funny face. He’s totally deadpan. This can’t be good news!” said a frantic Obama supporter.