Glo.com Launch Party, The Cooper Square Hotel, New York
April 22, 2010
I walk by the The Cooper Square Hotel at least once a week. I usually glance inside the glass walls at the flickering candles on the faces of people who can afford to enjoy specialty cocktails, sometimes spotting hair or clothing too rich to be on a regular civilian, but I never stare long enough to confirm. Last night I breezed past the cocktailers and headed straight for the penthouse to cover the launch of Glo, a "magazine on the Internet."
Sick sick sick is all I have to say. And I never say sick in that positive surfer skater snowboarder way. I'll probably never say it aloud. But, friends, the penthouse at The Cooper Square Hotel is sick. At one point, as I lounged on the padded deck futon, I began to shiver from the night wind that had kicked up, but no way was I going to miss this time-pressed opportunity to sit outside on a gorgeous night surrounded by the lights of the city. I rarely get to peep down on my neighborhood from the sky, so my brain was in tinkly light overload. Also, I could see into peoples' apartments.
The first people I met were Sharon Clott from New York magazine, and a writer from Rolling Stone, who were gabbing by the stinky cheese table. I see (smell) this party faux pas more and more, and it must stop! Yes, people enjoy a good stinky cheese, but at a party, it's often mistaken for a smelly guest. Then everyone starts throwing accusing glances around, and nobody wants that. I shared my story of sending my high school newspaper clippings to Rolling Stone as a senior and my sweaty excitement at actually getting an honest, thoughtful, let-the-country-bumpkin-down-easy mailed response (it was 15 years ago or so!). My Mantua heart was thrilled to tell an actual Rolling Stone writer how happy that made me.
Gail Hilton of Thought Equity Motion and I stepped outside onto the deck, and my knees locked up. The deck was surrounded not by barred fencing or the other usual hotel lifesavers, but by perfectly clear, hopefully sturdy, glass. If you're height-sensitive like myself, then you can identify with that locked-legged, sudden inability to breathe or move -- even though logic is telling you that the floor will not drop out from under you, nor will the glass suddenly fall out. I sucked it up and enjoyed the view, without looking down. Breathtaking is too lame a description. I found Jason Herman, a finance guy who is creating a hedge fund (how does that work?) and Richie Williams, of Fireworks Sports Marketing, who is one of Johnny Weir's agents, also enjoying the ridiculous view.
Near the Hedgefund Maker and Sports Agent were Gay Armand of BermanBraun and Roger Munford, General Manager, Digital Media for Hachette Filipacchi Media (Woman's Day, specifically). I let Roger know that my brother in law and I pulled one of our favorite fad diets from Woman's Day years ago and that it involved a lot of Metamucil. We gave it a fitting nickname that I won't mention here.
Moving on, I cornered Lloyd "Serenity Now" Braun and three other guests as the sun started slipping into a wet blood-orange blob on the Hudson. Inside, guests were milling around, taking delicious nibbles off constantly appearing plates. After Lloyd Braun addressed the party-goers, guests began to disperse, missing the two highlights of the evening: the dessert trays of chocolate and mystery crispy delights, and Johnny Weir.
I've only actually seen Johnny Weir in action a few times, one being on "Chelsea Lately," where he was a hipster-mullet-sporting sparkplug. He has a rep of being a bit of a spicy competitor, but he was nothing but agreeable (probably because I didn't challenge him to a skate-off) as I dragged him all over the deck for city light shots. Now if only Mickey Rourke and a giraffe had shown up, I would have had my ideal brunch crew.
Oh! I shouldn't forget to mention meeting Justin Stiver of The Cooper Square Hotel, who introduced me to the unique... signature beverage of the evening: the Fresh Cetriolo, a concoction of cucumber-infused vodka, elderflower liqueur, and green chartreuse, whose taste reminded me a little bit of granny's sock drawer sachet. I think it's the perfect drink for a really hot night out on that deck. I also want to applaud another great waitstaff. I don't know if the water in Manhattan has changed, but lately every event must be hiring Midwesterners as servers. They're just so hospitable, including bartender Kelly Tuoby, who has a mean pour with a warm smile. And finally, a big hey there to "the other guy" Stephen Kosloff, a bearded and talented, photographer.
Whether it's on your fire escape in the East Village, your dairy farm in Mantua, Ohio, or your roof deck lined with diamonds, get out there and enjoy everything your town has to offer this weekend. I'll see you next week with a whole new mess of events.
Fabulous photos are on Flickr (many more to come!)
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