Say what you will about Gothamist—their punctuation stinks, they cater to hipsters, they’re too heartfelt to blog—but they really do love this city. And so do we.
So when we were invited to the Gothamist holiday party yesterday, we didn’t just think, “sweet, free drinks.” We thought, “Jen Chung in the flesh? Sign us up!”
With Gothamist throwing the party, we figured the location would something New York magazine hadn’t written up yet, but would very soon. Actually, it was at Ideya, a place so established it has its own website. The bar was a sentimental pick: Jen Chung had her first date with her husband, whom she met online, there. CONTINUED »
Everything you’ve heard about Canadians is true. They’re all nice, and even with a population of over 32,000,000, they all seem to know each other.
We discovered this at Louisa McCormack’s party for her new book, Six Weeks To Toxic, last night. The Canadian author was the kind of nice you don’t find this side of the 44th parallel. She reminded us of a simpler country, where health care is free and Queen Elizabeth is on the twenty-dollar bill. CONTINUED »
Wherever there are anniversaries to be celebrated, stories to be told and drinks to be had, we are there.
So when we got invited to the Moth’s tenth anniversary gala, we started rummaging around for a pair of tights. Actually, we had no tights, but it was strongly suggested that we not wear jeans. In a business suit, we were the only female guest in pants. The women took this “gala” stuff seriously. So there we were, inappropriately dressed and uncomfortable. Sigh. CONTINUED »
For a magazine that just moved from Boston to Washington, New York seems like an odd location for The Atlantic’s 150th Anniversary party. But as Andrew Sullivan says, “You can’t have a party unless it’s in New York.”
Fair enough. But that doesn’t explain The Atlantic’s venue choice: a theater in the village. With a full audience, the party was one-part open bar, one-part performance piece. While we drank, we couldn’t help but feel bad for The Atlantic fans in the crowd who had to watch a New York magazine photographer take pictures of Jared Kushner. The New Yorker festival seemed modest by comparison.
Our night at the Beauty Confidential book party started out with us falling flat on our face.
After spotting our co-editor's boyfriend in front of the building, we went over to say hello, but before we could a doorstop came in our way. We smacked the ground hard, and our hand was still stinging when we shook his hand.
The rest of the night did not improve from there.
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If Cody Willard’s grandfather could see him now, he would not be proud. At least that’s what the Fox Business Network anchor fears.
Twice last night at the Fox Business Network launch party, inside the Temple of Dendur at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Willard mentioned that his grandfather, who was a cowboy, would be disappointed in his grandson for needing make up before going on air. But what is Willard to do? As he said, “Fox Business causes bad skin.”
But the best way to spot a Fox Business Network anchor is not by blemishes, which were well-concealed, but lack of body fat. That, and every female Fox Business anchor we spoke to made a point of touching our arm during the conversation. It felt so intimate—like we were real friends! Perhaps it was to stay warm? Or a lesson they learned in refinery school? CONTINUED »
The Lance Bass book party last night was dull, but a good networking opportunity for gay journalists. Apparently Michael Musto has game. Who knew? [Queerty]
Confession time: we’re no longer allowed in Whole Foods. After a visit where we took too many “samples” from the salad bar, a very nice guard pulled us aside, snapped a Polaroid of us and asked never to return to the grocery store.
The long of the short of it is, we live for samples. So imagine our pleasure last night when we were invited to the Time Out New York’s Eat Out Event, which Time Out's 40 favorite restaurants offering samples.
As non-paying members of the media, the party was one very large, very high end free tasting event. Sadly, we ate as if we had paid the $100 entry fee.
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Primehouse, a new steak place on 27th and Park, opened last night.
The crowd was rich, boring and on a diet. Discarded miniature buns from the miniature filet minion burgers were everywhere.
You would think this neighborhood would at least be hip to the latest dieting trends. Atkins is so over.
Whoever says octogenarians don't know how to party has never been to former Time managing editor Jim Gaines book party. We have and, let us tell you, it's quite a "time."
Gaines and his well-preserved pals gathered at - where else? - Elaine's last night to celebrate Gaines' new tome, For Liberty and Glory. A riveting look at George Washington's friendship with the Marquis de Lafayette, Gaines told us he hopes his book will "remind Americans how much we owe the French." Trés intriguing.
Even more intriguing, the cast of characters who showed up to fete Gaines. And by "intriguing" we mean "Who are these people?"
To spice things up, we pretended to know the hunky Tad Smith, CEO of Reed Business Information, publisher of Variety. After introducing ourselves, Smith made us swear all his comments would be off the record. "What?!" we said. "You mean we can't tell the world you think [redacted]?" Shame …
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Ever crashed an Ed2010 event, ambushed a successful magazine editor and come this-close to ruining her motivational speech/book party? Well, that pretty much describes our Wednesday night. Except replace the words "successful magazine editor" with Bonnie Fuller, and "pretty much" with exactly.
It all started back on Monday, when Intern Joseph woke up from a four hour nap long enough to forward us something about an East Village happy hour shindig. "Come hear Bonnie Reveal her Seven Secrets To Magazine Success!" proclaimed the odd, semi-capitalized heading.
Naturally, we were intrigued.
Which explains why we spent our one free afternoon trekking down to Mo Pitkins (Avenue A between 2nd and 3rd) to find out all of Bonnie's tricks of the trade.
Unfortunately, since we forgot our tape recorder, digital camera and reporter's notepad (in typical Jossip event reporting fashion!) then consumed an entire pitcher of sangria, we're a bit fuzzy on all the details. (Something about living in Canada, moving to New York and stalking Jann Wenner, as we recall).
Editorial Director
