At the premiere party for her new film, the surprisingly earnest and satisfying romance Age of Adaline, guests roamed Manhattan’s Metropolitan Club quietly sipping champagne and brushing shoulders with famous people and not-famous people and people who looked like they could maybe be famous people. They did not, for the most part, take photos and were, for lack of a better word, chill. An hour or so later, however, those same guests (myself included) lost what little chill they had and went into a brief manic state, whipping out their handheld flashbulbs directing them at a single person. That person was Blake Lively.
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