Never underestimate the ability of Lady Gaga to show off. She doesn’t even need to say a word, let along sing.

Last night the lady went through the simple act of getting a tattoo in front of hundreds of guests at the Guggenheim for the launch of her new fragrance, Fame.

Yoko Ono, Marc Jacobs and Lindsay Lohan were there. So were Steven Klein, Alexander Wang, Charlotte Ronson, Cecilia Dean, Ellen von Unwerth, Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin, Jessica Stam, Oliver Theyskens, Olivier Zahm and Stephen Gan. A good guest list, no?

We all wore extravagant hats—lobster, cat, goat–and jeweled masks for the ball. Did I mention the juice itself looks black in the bottle but sprays on clear? Gaga claims it’s inspired by a mixture of blood and semen, but she described the smell as “like an expensive hooker.”

It was quite an event, on par with the massive budgets that fragrance houses like Coty use to back new scents. The evening started with a cocktail hour as people arrived at the Upper East Side museum. Men in black carried trays of black vials of drink—I asked what they were and was told “I don’t know.”

Costumed fans crowded around Gaga’s black Cadillac and red Rolls-Royce convertible, nicknamed Bloody Mary, as she parked out front and then floated past the dozens of shirtless men in leather pants and bondage suspenders who lined the entrance. Everyone danced in ball gowns and tuxedos– courtesy of DJ White Shadow; the air was thick with Fame puffed from dispensers on stage.

After a short promo film that Klein created for the occasion, Gaga performed “Sleeping With Gaga”: While Edith Piaf crooned in the background, she slept for more than an hour inside a giant replica of the Fame bottle as we climbed stairs to reach through a small hole on the side and stroke her hand. Jacobs, Hilton and Klein failed to wake her—folks on Twitter speculated she had been sedated.

Not quite. She awoke to the tune of David Bowie’s “Fame,” then exited the Plexiglas jar for 15 minutes of fame–counted down by a digital clock onstage—to let Hollywood tattoo star Mark Mahoney ink a cherub on the back of her head. Depending on whom you ask the tat was to honor Terry Richardson’s mom, Annie Lomax, or a nod to Ms. Germanotta’s Italian heritage.

At any rate, it was an early night. By the time her tattoo was done it only 11pm, but ushers were already nudging us toward the door. She hadn’t sung–or spoke–a word.