In addition to launching fifty national politic sites, Jared Kushner is also extending the New York Observer's online brand with Socialite Slaptown, a riff on TMZ's own Star v. Star, that asks visitors to bet which lady opportunist will triumph over the slags. The methodology sorta works like the NCAA's March Madness tournament, but in this version the winner gets a $1,900 Gevril watch. Can your office pool beat that? [Socialite Slapdown]

"One sometimes hears, 'Who will be the next Brooke Astor?'” says Barbara Walters, of her recently departed friend. "But there will never be another Brooke Astor. She was unique—charming, wise, funny, elegant and, most important, generous."

And we couldn't agree more.

After all, there's Astor, a true philanthropist and generous soul, donated her life (and over $200 million of her fortune) towards charital pursuits and was of the firm belief that money—like manure—"should be spread around."

And then there's the modern "socialite," the Tinsley Mortimers and Oliva Palermos, who are far too wrapped up in her own petty elitist squabbles to even attend a charity fundraiser (see today's Page Six) and, of course, the Paris Hiltons, who are of the firm belief that venereal diseases—like manure—"should be spread around."

We'll miss you, Brooke.

You can almost hear the ASME crowd's jaw drop: After awarding Adam Moss' New York magazine with all those awards, he repays the industry by picking up Page Six's beat with a Socialite Rank cover story? Why yes, yes he did. And he beat Vanity Fair to it, answering the question all anyone has been asking about the since-shuttered blog:

Who was behind that brutal power ranking? And those posts hating on Olivia Palermo? And those entries touting the Tinz? And letting Fabiola Beracasa go from working girl to charity gala?

CONTINUED »

Farewell, Socialite Rank. The website has just announced that they will no longer be chronicling the every move of Tinsley Mortimer, Byrdie Bell and all the other heiresses/philanthropists who light up our lives with their own dimwittedness.

Fortunately, competitor Park Avenue Peerage is quick to reap the benefits, as evidence by that obnoxious picture of a crown they posted front and center on their website, which, presumably, signifiies their reign over the insipid socialite domain! And, after scrolling down and exploring the rest of their site (to be heretofore referred to as "PAP") it's obvious that we have so much to look forward to. Like, for instance, gigantic photo spreads of the not particularly interesting/accomplished Kristian Laliberte!

Yes, the end of Socialite Rank is certainly the end of an era. Unfortunately, however, it's also the start of a terrifying new beginning.

A newly redesigned WWD.com had us giddy enough. But an article about Radar's third incarnation? It's like giving bread to the bread line: good news for everyone! Because like Maer Roshan and questionable numbers of bathroom trips during lunch, you just can't get enough Radar.

Radar is joining the socialite craze and taking a shot at tabloids like Us Weekly with the feature "Socialites Are Just Like Us!" in its first issue of its third incarnation (but with new investors). Yet, while Us Weekly captures stars in random moments, such as Ben Affleck making his way through an airport security line at LAX, Radar's February relaunch issue devotes 10 pages to overexposed socialites appearing in staged photos.

CONTINUED »

Vanity Fair has had some recent drama in the fashion department. (Can you imagine?) Most of it has to do with new people being brought in and some shuffling around, upward movement, and the hiring the children of every Tom Ford employee as assistants.

With all the changes, fashion and style director at large, Elizabeth Saltzman has a new title. And has sort of been meshed into the newly created position of "international social editor."

She will oversee the magazine's social coverage and also report on a wider variety of areas, including architecture, design and the arts, as well as fashion …

"She is a significant figure on the international scene and this new post gives her an expanded opportunity to bring her good taste and sensibility to the pages of the magazine," said VF's editor in chief Graydon Carter.

Oh, we just can't wait. Please, please, can they run photos of Hudson Morgan and Peter Davis yachting in Istanbul? Or Jessica Joffe having cocktails at Japonais? We really just can't get enough of that stuff!

DIVIDING LINES [Amy Wicks, WWD]

When socialites get together for gossip, tongues wag and whispers hiss. And when they get together to talk about Tinsley Mortimer, well, let's just say thing can tend to get pretty vicious. And not just in that "she's a bitch" kind of way … but also in the "I have no clue how not to sound like a racist WASP" kind of way.

New York reports that the Tins' new gig as "the face of Tokyo" has some of the glitterati in New York in a bit of a twitch.

“I heard the last time she went over there to promote these bags, there were hordes of Japanese people crying and screaming her name. She’s bigger than Paris Hilton or Scarlett Johansson to them.” Apparently, “she has that iconic blonde look that the Japanese market loves,” says her friend Eleanor Ylvisaker. Not everyone’s been supportive. “I heard people are calling her ‘Tins-ree’ behind her back now,” said a socialite.

Wow. We're sure Vera Wang and Peter Som are just dying to design some new gowns for the totally PC members of the elite inner circle.

Tinsley Mortimer Exported to Japan [Molly Friedman, New York Magazine]

Oh, look who just snapped up the huge townhouse on the East Broadway. Once owned by tattoo artist Jonathan Shaw, the 19th-century mansion was just hacked to none other than Tatiana Von Furstenberg, daughter of fashion icon Diane Von Furstenberg. For $2.4 million.

Tatiana, who is married to a prince, is in her thirties, and has a six-year-old (info via wiki) is really sick of Gramercy. Gramercy is so full of thirty-something princesses pushing around strollers. She's really ready for something arty and sultry. She wants to live in a land where the spillover from Chinatown and Williamsburg have created a wonderful sea of Asians and Jews roaming free.

“Basically, I’m just really attracted to this neighborhood,” said Ms. von Furstenberg. “It’s not, like, in the hip part of the Lower East Side. There’s a lot of diversity, it just feels like the New York that I left.”

Which New York was that?

“I lived on Gramercy Park for most of my 20’s,” she said. “Everybody was thirty-something with a stroller.” And now? “Down there, they really honor immigrants and senior citizens, it’s really multi-cultured and multi-generational—but I really hate to use those words.”

Yeah, we bet the "immigrants" (does she mean the people who's families came here in like 1912?) hate words like "mulit-cultural" too. Mainly because it means more white people moving into $2 million homes in their neighborhoods.

Tattoo You, Tatiana! [Max Abelson, New York Observer]

There's a new "It Boy" in town, and the New York Times Sunday Styles section has about 800 words to convince you of the truth of this statement. Now that Lance Armstrong and Jake Gyllenhaal have filled the roles of "Matthew McConaughey's friend," Jeffrey Zarnow needed another way to make a name for himself. And that way is liquor.

He's now throwing charity parties for Liz Smith and partying with Bono. Tres Chic. This guy knows how to get himself on the social map, and he'll probably be yachting with Peter Davis next summer and sponsoring Fashion Week Daily parties. But until that day comes, he (like the rest of the city) will be climbing the never ending party-scene social ladder.

Basically, what we're saying is that you'll never hear about this guy again. The only reason we are even talking about this stupid article is because of this little gem.

Just as it can seem that every woman with social ambition is designing her own handbag or jewelry line, there’s a freshly distilled ticket to social standing for men — introducing your own liquor.

Dear God make it stop. Who is even making handbags these days? Melissa Burkelhammer? And owning liquor leading to social standing? It seems quite working class to us — and the thing about socialites is that they don't work. (Except Jessica Joffe, but only because she can't decide if she's a model or a journalist or a rockstar girlfriend.)

Anyways, the only way to truly reach any desirable level of social status is to be born to a magazine editor, to marry into social status (ahem, Tinsley Mortimer), or to buy a newspaper. Otherwise, nobody fucking cares about you. Except the Sunday Times.

Fame at 70 Proof [Allen Salkin, New York Times]

Call us immature, but we just can not pass up the chance to call out journalist/socialite/blogger/model Jessica Joffe. Surely you remember the Banana Republic ads featuring Joffe (when our commentary encouraged her boyfriend Ryan Adams to go on a sociopathic rage against us) which were splashed on the back cover of Glamour among other fashion mags a few months ago.

Well, for reasons that are not exactly explained, Joffe will not be featured in next year's campaign.

In the second phase of its "style evolution," Banana Republic recently shot its spring 2006 ad campaign and — in case you're wondering — the ubiquitous Jessica Joffe will not be returning.

Maybe it's because Vogue wants the ads, but won't allow her to write a cover story, blog for the mag, appear as a model in a fashion spread, and be featured in advertisements. And we're positive Joffe wants nothing more than to write an article about herself (which features herself in a fashion shoot) thereby marrying her dreams of being a journalists and a model. And no Banana Republic ad is going to get in the way of that dream.

ALREADY SPRING [Amy Wicks, WWD]

Though it is about a week old, this gossip is the type of juice we just can't pass up. We hear that last Wednesday, Tinsley Mortimer held a chic "intimate post-dinner show" for designer and member of the New York elite Peter Som at the swanky Frederick's Lounge in Midtown. (We're sure you can imagine the scene — and yes, gagging is a completely natural reaction.)

Anways, at this event, where designer Amanda Ross and uber stylist Ann Caruso were trying to dink their Moet in peace, a ridiculously pushy PR agent, who obviously didn't know her place was with the regular people, tried to push into the private party.

An industry insider who attended the event dishes that a publicist named Amanda* from Captivante PR crashed the party. While the private event was strictly for guests of Peter Som — and this little "you can't fucking come in" policy was kindly explained to her — Amanda waited for staff to look away before entering the member's room with her crew of clients. From which she was promptly booted.

Staffers at Frederick's felt kind of terrible for the "tacky publicist" and, reportedly, proceeded to throw two bottles of champagne at her, setting her crew up in a room where "the public" is allowed to chill. Fredericks even picked up the tab. But Miss Amanda apparently doesn't stop being a bitch when loaded with free bubbly.

After being presented with a comped bill for over 500 dollars, she and her guests left a fistful of crumpled singles amounting to 17 dollars. The manager on duty was so dismayed he paid cash out of his own pocket to his waitstaff to make up for the pr person's gaff.

See, we don't care about pissing off the Tins (in fact, we were a little impressed at first). But throwing a crumpled $17 bucks at the waitstaff? That's just disgusting.

*A Google local search points to Amanda Moore, but the contact info for Captivante is less easy to pin down. Have insider info? Send to tips@jossip.com.

We are about to enter "phase one" of New York magazine's total take-over of the Internet. Before you know it, virtual Look Book people are going to sit on your couch and start rolling joint and painting birds or something. But before we get to that, Adam Moss is starting with Fashion Week. And you can play, too!

Beginning Sept. 8, reports and photos from the shows and around the Bryant Park tents will be collected on nymag.com. Users can group their favorite designs in a photo album, then share their books with other nymag.com visitors.

But it doesn't end there. Celeb socialites like Tinsley Mortimer and Melania Trump will share their fave photos and designs, too. And haven't you always wanted the Tins' input on something before you continue with your day?

The only thing we think is sort of cool in regards to "phase one" is the "create your own Approval Matrix" section. Not only do we predict a daily Choire Sicha creation, but we've always wanted the chance to put Tinsley on the "despicable highbrow" sector of the Matrix.

INTERACTIVE RUNWAY [Stephanie D. Smith, WWD]

When "Social Rank" first came out, listing socialites in order of importance (the Tins at the top, Jessica Joffe somewhere near the bottom) we had a good belly laugh. Then, we sort of forgot about the social rankers for awhile. Until we got the notice that they moved to socialiterank.com. So, of course, we had to check again.

And man are they full of some good tips. Take today's feature, for example, on how not to end up like Tori Spelling. The top five ways to preserve your money and dignity and never look poor include "be nice to people" and "go to the Learning Annex." But our favorite tip on how not to look poor is by far number 5: "don't look poor."

Designers are any socialite’s necessity. You wouldn’t believe how many socialites are actually on the poverty level by real blue-blood standards. But their relationship with fashion houses and racks of borrowed clothes dictate the opposite. Suck up to the designers, drop by their studios, bring them food and never physically look poor.

Those poor, poor impoverished socialites. It's really gotten pretty bad. Some of them are even working. And wearing Banana Republic! What's the world coming to?

Top Five Ways to Avoid a Tori-Like Money Disaster [Socialite Rank]

Remember last week when you brought you (what we thought was) the Banana Republic advertisement from the back of Glamour. You know, the one featuring former Observer eye candy and socialite Jessica Joffe? Well, as anyone who has picked up this month's fashion issue has surely realized, that was some type of promo ad or something. This, however, is the actual ad.

See, she's actually much more jaded than previously depicted. Oh, and as it turns out, there is also an advertisement in another Conde Nast publication — Vanity Fair. The above image is the first of a four page ad, which includes Jessica and all her well clad preppy friends looking bored and more important than you. Though, as far as we know, she hasn't written any of the cover stories for Graydon Carter yet. Check out a few pages from the second installment of her Conde Nast ad space take-over, after the jump.

*Also, please note, we did not say anything worthy of a Ryan Adams mental break-down. We are simply trying to bring fair and accurate information to our readers. Well, as accurate as possible, at least.

CONTINUED »

• Seeing Larry David flap his arms and scream swears in a parking lot would be the only reason we would ever consider moving to L.A. [Page Six]

• Jennifer Aniston is not destined to be an old maid for the rest of her life. The best part? Now we have a new stomach to obsessively photograph and watch for bumps. [Us Weekly]

• Which is the perfect time for Angelina Jolie to shrink to Olsen-size and leave Brad Pitt. [Mollygood]

• Could Peter Sarsgaard be any more sexy? He and Maggie Gyllenhaal are so freakin' cute — we hope the paparazzi never, ever touches them. Ever. [Lowdown]

• There is nothing in this world more important than being a socialite. How could anyone even dare to suggest such an atrocity? [NYO]

Remember when Lloyd Grove published that juicy article about little "socialite" who couldn't really hack it Melissa Berkelhammer? Basically, it revealed that she paid a ton of money to R. Couri Hay so that he could try to get her to parties nobody wanted her at and set up dinners with people who obviously didn't care to talk to her. He probably had to beg the kids at the Observer to follow her around, with the promise that she would act like a fucking idiot and give them something to write about.

Well, New York Social Diary is defending her. They say, "everyone needs PR to move up in social status," and "whose life and whose business is it anyway?"

Good point. (Or, at least it was a better point than the part where they compare modern day tramps to the Rockefellers.) Why should we be paying attention to any of these socialites anyways. It's not like their coughing up thousands of dollars a month to be on the scene or at parties or with people that are being talked about or anything pathetically crazy like that.

Society's darlings … [New York Social Diary]
Earlier: 'Socialite' Melissa Berkelhammer Cries, Pays Her Way Into Parties

So, today is apparently "advertising in magazines" day. And what's this? The long awaited Banana Republic ad featuring socialite journalist Jessica Joffe? Yup.

Gaze longingly as Jessica buttons up her grey blazer, laughing at the rest of you regular people who don't have a front page cover story on the other side of the same magazine this ad is in. No perfume, no distracting other people … just Joffe. It's touching. Really.

Plus, the ad is totally "glamourous" (pun intended). Reward points? Lots of sex appeal in those little suckers.

Would you take a job that paid you in fancy Four Season's lunches? We doubt it would be extremely time consuming: wake up, get dressed, go to lunch, file a column. Sounds like about a five hour day to us — tops. But, in Pranay Gupte's case, being paid in lunch just wasn't enough. His recent resignation from the New York Sun (written in the third person) reveals that Gupte has decided he needs to start working for cold, hard, cash. (He tried to pay his rent in foie gras, but his landlord thought he was cursing him out … didn't go too well.)

Pranay Gupte has left The New York Sun where he wrote a daily column of profiles, "Lunch at The Four Seasons." Mr. Gupte could no longer afford to contribute pro bono, as he had for the last 20 months, and the Sun — which continues to struggle financially in its fifth year of existence — did not have the money to pay him.

We guess sometimes lunch just ain't enough (har, har, har) Which is why we need more socialites doing journalism. They don't actually need the money and they have lunch at the Four Season's anyway. We'd of course have to find a B-Lister who would sink to the levels of writing for the Sun … hey what about that Melissa Burkelhammer girl?

New York Sun 'Lunch' Columnist Resigns In Third Person [Fishbowl, NY]

Peter Kaplan's former assistant/office eye candy at the New York Observer, Jessica Joffe, is taking over at Conde Nast. And she's starting by leaving her mark all over Glamour magazine. In what she herself calls "a funny coincidence," Joffe not only interviewed cover subject Emmy Rossum, but she also appears in a Banana Republic ad on the back cover. Remember? She's modeling for Banana now.

She ends up getting more play on the back cover than the woman she profiles gets on the front cover," joked Glamour editor in chief Cindi Leive. She said the magazine became aware of the double exposure at the last minute, and while Glamour has a policy prohibiting employees from appearing in advertisements in the magazine, the policy does not apply to Joffe, a first-time freelance contributor.

Wait, Glamour actually has a written policy that prevents employees from appearing in ads? But what about all those people who are simultaneously pursuing a career as a model and a freelance magazine journalist? It seems a little unfair that socialite's are being so limited in their job opportunities.

Glamour Girl [Irin Carmon, WWD]

Look what trashtastic new magazine is hitting newsstands this week. NY Blondes – the title gets right to the point – looks to be a mix of Gotham magazine and New York Social Diary (an already redundant statement), and, while if any city has room for yet another magazine devoted to the entitled, it's certainly New York, we're worried about its future. If the debut issue already features "Paris Hilton, Nicky Hilton, Molly Sims, Nancy O'Dell, Sharon Stone, Lindsay Lohan, Beth Ostrosky, Stacy Keibler, Mischa Barton, Ivanka Trump, Kristin Cavallari, Katie Couric, and Tinsley Mortimer" – many of whom, we should point out, aren't even New Yorkers .. or blonde – what content could there possbly be for the sophomore edition? A dated profile on Christie Brinkley? Though it's going to be a sad day when this mag produces more issues than Maer Roshan ever could.

NY Blondes