Last night IFC and BlackBook magazine threw a swanky soiree at the Soho Grand in honor of their October cover subject, Maggie Gyllenhaal. As you know, we already saw Maggie's new indy flick Sherrybaby at the Hearst building with Marie Claire (something BlackBook's PR gal was not very happy about), so we skipped the screening and went straight to the boozey schmoozy, with our photog Matthew Krautheim in tow.
Due to the freezing, raining weather, the party was upstairs instead of in the garden, but there was still plenty of smoking room … and smokin' film industry types.
Maggie Gyllenhaal showed, looking super pregnant and like she was about ready to fall down. No Peter Sarsgaard … or Jake (which is, like, the only reason we even went) … but lots of infused Vodka and plenty of magazines to keep us entertained. Michael Musto even said hello to us before rushing straight to the back of the room.
After the jump, a bunch of people you probably don't care about … but they're sexier than your cubemate so you'll look at them anyways.
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• We thought the Vanity Fair Oscar party was the best party in world, but, apparently, there is a whole week's worth of parties that are not likened to a "Hollywood Prom." [NYT]
• Pausing for thought on the life of Otis Chandler — in our version of Heaven, the Daily News is replaced by infinite copies of the Los Angeles Times. [LAT]
• Cooking Light opens a restaurant. Even though it's "healthy food," this is the last thing the fattest city in America needs. (You know Chicagoans are just going to run for gyros and brats after their grilled salmon and zucchini plates.) [NYT]
• Black Book teams up with Thompson Hotels to custom publish a magazine on the metaphoric Orwellian experience of hotel culture. It's ok, Jeff Bercovici doesn't really get it either. [WWD]
• Today in blog hysteria: the Wall Street Journal continues the obsession by telling everyone to stop obsessing. [WSJ]
Black Book magazine, still recoiling from its very public ousting of Evan Schindler, is now trying to cower behind its complete selling out.
The trendy glossy caved to advertiser pressure from GM's Hummer unit, agreeing to their requests for "contextual inclusion" in the mag's editorial. Remember when Toyota started begging magazines for such treament?
Flip to the article on the band Ratatat in the spring/summer issue and you'll see a red Hummer outlandishly Photoshopped into the accompanying photo.
Black Book's CEO Eric Gertler is, naturally, shrugging off any claims of advertiser influence over editorial. Surely, the decision to include the bulky gas guzzler was first brought up in an editorial meeting.
Indie publishing drama certainly looks more entertaining on the surface. Fewer star publicists man-handling the spin. No corporate flacks jeopardizing a sure-fire nuclear bomb of a story. Hell, we'd rather hear about a New York Sun circulation scandal than another red-bagged New York Post incident just so we could pretend it's important.
So this week we're blessed with trouble at Black Book.
Evan Schindler has literally been locked out of the fashion magazine he founded seven years ago. Two partners he brought into the fold, Ari Horowitz and Eric Gertler, say they've relieved Schindler of his editorial director duties after he started calling advertisers like Diesel and suggesting they pull their ads from Black Book. So they went ahead and changed the locks at the mag's Prince Street offices.
Schindler, still a part owner of the title, is also encouraging staffers to quit as a sign of solidarity (and sabotage) - because that'll surely help its sale price now that Horowitz and Gertler put Black Book on the block. Maybe Flaunt can get in on the publicity buzzwagon and oust Long Nguyen.
