SHE exited the elevator in the Chelsea Hotel wearing a feathered wig, torn tights and high heels. Her small entourage included an assistant, a baby sitter's brother and a couple of friends. Her husband was upstairs, putting their 8-year-old son to bed. ''He saw me and said, 'Mom, you look like a freak,' '' she said while hailing two cabs on West 23rd Street. ''He's probably going to be an accountant.''
So began opening night last Wednesday for Susanne Bartsch's first weekly party to hit New York in more than 14 years. Ms. Bartsch's name was once the night life equivalent of a couture label, thanks to the numerous extravaganzas she staged in cities from Montreal to Miami. But aside from seasonal soirees for Halloween and Valentine's Day, she has been noticeably absent from the downtown scene for nearly 10 years ...