• by Kelly Samardak , December 17, 2008

ADC Holiday Party, ADC Gallery, New York
December 16, 2008

And to think I almost didn't go.  AgencySpy tweeted that bootleg invitations were being bandied about the Internet like a Ponzi scheme, planting the seed of "blech, overcrowding" deep in my overcrowded cranium.  Who wants to battle a bunch of idiots who would actually crash a party that, um, is already open to anyone who visits the ADC site, creates an account, RSVPs, and brings toys for kids.  If you're going to "crash" something, make sure it's not open to the unwashed masses to begin with.  And pick something really worthwhile, like a botox party.  I battled through the fluffy, sometimes slushy, driving snow and entered the purple winter wonderland that was the ADC Gallery.  It became a night in fab lane lined with raw toast, a green field, and cruddy crudités.

I checked in at the door with my two UglyDolls, freshly purchased from Manhattan's version of your momma's basement, Forbidden Planet.   There was no list-keeping, so my +1 and I dropped our presents for the little kiddies and hit up the coat check.  I drank in the ADC Gallery.  It was minimally decorated with chunky square candles, tables of underlit books, and dangling white paper chains that warmly absorbed the 75% saturated eggplant lighting scheme.   The coat check (ha, I almost typed goat check.  One line for your parka, one line for your goat) lady declared, "we're full!" just as I stepped up.  I peeked in and saw crammable areas, but whatever, that's why I write instead of arranging outerwear.

Heading over to the bar for some punch (damn you, Campari, why must you taint even the most lovely of evenings?!) and vino I saw my hardworking coworker extraordinaire, Sergei Kogut!  He was sipping on a Stella with the lovely Leslie Rasimas, Executive Director, New York Festivals.  Rounding out their circle of career history was Joel Goodman, Executive Director, New York Festivals (some festivals require more than one ED), and Ami Brophy, Chief Executive Officer, ADC.  Successful wine apprehension completed, I meandered about, snapping pics of people here and there, every guest a work of art in their own right.

I saw Robert Rasmussen lurking about, planted in his signature stance (maybe just signature to me, but he stands in a very particular way).  I meant to ask him about his new gig over at Bartle Bogle Hegarty (BBH, if you chortle through THAT mouthful) but shaking out the food was #1 on my list of to-dos.  The invitation distinctly said food.  However, it did not make the distinction as to what kind of food.  Oh I found the table alright, but when I saw grapes I knew pizza would be in my future.  Last time I hit the ADC for a party they had scads of delicious samosas and dippable treats.  But this was, well, a travesty in the form of crudités. 

Stewing over celery and carrots, I swung around and saw Jeremy Greenfield entering the gallery.  I had forwarded the invitation to him and hoped he would make an appearance.  Speak of the devil and he shall appear.  Not that Jeremy's the devil.  What he is, though, is a man of many plans.  His current plan involves his departure from PostAdvertising.com and heading for the hills of Dow Jones, where he'll be Content Manager.   Of course he leaves just when I finally started habitually reading PostAdvertising.com AND had committed my login and password to memory.   Jeremy was joined by Molly Laurain.

In the middle of yakking it up with Jeremy, I hooted "RAW TOAST!!" not because I saw a yeasty loaf, but because walking by was the mohawked, red-pantalones-sporting, suspenders-draped Jesse Kuhn from RAWTOASTDESIGN.  This is significant not because I met him at the Eyeblaster Awards, but because I purchased a piece of his art in Union Square the weekend before, without knowing it was him at the time.  I walked away with "Poor Little Calamari" tucked under my arm and looked at the artist's business card.  I yelped "Hey! I think I know that guy!"  If you're lucky enough to run into his freezing cold self on the periphery of the Union Square Christmas shops, you have to snatch up his work.   He's incredibly talented and, as I discovered at the ADC party, he doesn't suck at life, which is a plus. 

Before I leave you to your own special holiday party hangings over, I have two stories to share.  The first is a confession.  Are you ready? *gulp* I watch... "Kimora: Life In the Fab Lane."  And if I didn't watch it, I wouldn't have recognized James Campbell, Kimora's emotionally senior marketing director.  I wanted to hug him, but my +1 already thinks I harass celebrities too much, so I kept my hands to myself.  I did, however, let James know that I love him because he has cried unabashedly on a few episodes.  He offered to cry for me on the spot, that's just how nice he is.

The next story comes from the bathroom, a launching pad for many a tale.  As I washed my hands (after getting huffed at by someone with mascara streaming down their face, "WHAT a production!" [lady, I'm wearing nylons.  Takes time. ]) I overheard one ADCer say to another that a gentleman in attendance fancies Chauncey McCracken (name changed to protect the innocent until proven guilty), which is evidenced by the gifts of McDonald's gift certificates and a gigantic Hershey Bar with his face imprinted on it.  "So, he fancies her a bit," ADCer giggled.

I'd say he fancies her chubby and with arterial damage.

What's going on in 2009?  Invite kelly@mediapost.com to your brand new year parties and you're in Just An Online Minute!

Get your fill of all the lovely photos from last night on Flickr!

What kind of day are you having? You can hear alllll about mine if you follow me on Twitter .