office-party patrol

‘CosmoGIRL!’ Parties Like It’s Freshman Year All Over Again

Santa

Photo Illustration: Everett Bogue;
Photos: Getty Images (santa), iStockphoto (suit)

Last night saw loads of magazine parties: The blazered GQ staff boogied down at Passerby, Wenner Media rocked out at Madison in the meatpacking district, and W celebrated its continued existence at Death & Co. We didn’t go to any of those, because we were at New York’s own fiesta at the Cub Room. Unfortunately, we can’t tell you much about that, partly because we’re not allowed to but mostly because we can’t remember much — except that we were pleased to learn that our co-workers like to party. And that Jessica Coen will do the splits if you ask her nicely. But we can offer you a report from inside the CosmoGirl soirée, held at the decidedly un-girlie Rumours, a tinsel-decked, wood-paneled sports bar on Eighth Avenue in midtown.

CosmoGIRL! The Hearst Magazines holiday party isn’t until Monday, but that didn’t stop CosmoGIRL! from hosting its own mini-funfest last night. So what classy locale did they choose to compete with the Norman Foster–designed tower where Monday’s party will be? A rinky-dink sports bar. It was hard to miss editor-in-chief Susan Schulz presiding over the festivities in a reserved section at the back of the room; she was sporting a Seussian red-and-white-striped top hat that towered above the crowd. We quickly learned all the staffers were required to wear hats from a selection Schulz had supplied, which explained the green and red baseball hats (and grimaces) worn by the normally perfectly coiffed fashion editors. Other (braver) members of the female-heavy staff went for fruit-topped and fur-covered millinery, and we even saw one junior staffer stuck with a large foam hot dog on her head (“It’s actually a wiener,” she explained). Schulz sprang for an open bar, and we also spied some picked-over plates of dehydrated chicken wings, onion rings, and jalapeño poppers (or they could have been mozzarella sticks; we weren’t willing to do a taste test). Not surprisingly, the free-flowing drinks and lack of food had some editors swaying on their feet before 8 p.m. As the night wore on, we watched a group of stuffy middle-management types move closer and closer to the CosmoGIRL! gang. When they got too close, we knew it was time to bolt.

Verdict: Food: 2; drink: 3; venue: 3 (two points for irony, one point for awesomeness); debauchery: 2; exclusivity: 2.

‘CosmoGIRL!’ Parties Like It’s Freshman Year All Over Again