They say that Harvard is all about exclusivity. Guess no one told that to the people behind last night’s 02138 magazine launch party — ’cause anybody who’s anybody was there!!!
Actually, that’s not even remotely true. Our list of instantly recognizable celebs glimpsed while crashing the soiree reads, in full:
- Bill O’Reilly
And he was there for maybe 15 minutes. Look, don’t get us wrong — we’re sure the place was lousy with VIPs. We just have no idea who any of them were. The pomegranate martinis were flowing, the ricotta puffs were delish, and that sweetest of Harvard pheromones was in the air: networking. So many egos, one tiny place — it was like the orgy scene in Eyes Wide Shut, but with business cards. How could we focus on names, or the specific talk show we saw that guy from that thing on? Did we mention there were pomegranate martinis?
Our favorite minutes of the evening came early: 02138 publisher Meredith Kopit hushed the crowd with a toast … for about 30 seconds. Oh, you poor, deluded UVA soul. These people went to school “outside Boston” — you think they want to hear you talk? The roar of the chatter almost drowned out her calling launch sponsor Glenmorangie “the Harvard of single malt scotches,” apparently unaware that page 24 of her own magazine notes the school spends up to $1 million annually fighting exactly that kind of use of the Harvard name.
As plasma screens flashed faces from the magazine’s top 100 alumni list (No. 5, John Roberts; No. 79, Natalie Portman), we made the rounds from media types to jewelers to 02138 staffers (all of whom seemed fun and funny, damn them) in the close quarters of the Core Club, on East 55th Street in Manhattan. Quickly enough, the scene turned into just another media cocktail party, the Harv-audacity seemed to wane, and we gradually lost the urge to hurl ourselves through the tasteful glass bookshelves/walls of the fourth floor onto the street below.
(Only one thing got away: There was a tall man, bald on top with a teeny little ponytail, who everyone swore was super-important, but no one knew his name. We heard him say only two things, both to no one in particular: “The iceman — the iceman cometh!” and, later, “La la la la [tongue roll].” Those are direct quotes. We’ll try to figure out his identity and get back to you.)
The most telling sign the event was pure Harvard? When we had our picture taken by a pro, and told him our name was “Blake Goodie,” the photographer didn’t bat an eye.
SHOCKING SHYAMALAN-LIKE TWIST ENDING: On the subway home, drunk and tired, we finally pulled a folded copy of 02138 from our back pocket and began to read. Page after page, story after item after charticle, we realized, to our horror …
The magazine itself?
It’s really good.
We’re no longer 0213haters.
TO BE CONTINUED!