The Observer profiles Felix Tagliarinithe "grill guy" at the Condé Nast cafeteria who recently got moved to the sandwich station. Felix is something of a ladies' man and some speculate that his deposition may have more to do with jealous male staffers than a burger-related contretemps with (Vogue Editor) Anna Wintour. Or maybe he just wanted to learn how to make sandwiches.
Condé Nast's deposed king of the grill [Observer]
[Former] Deputy Prime Minister of Iraq, Tariq Aziz, apparently enjoyed reading Conde Nast magazines. Found in his abandoned house: dozens of Vanity Fairs. (He likes the personality profiles.) In the bathroom: copies of Vogue, GQ, Cosmopolitan, and a few dog-eared Danielle Steele novels. In the child's room upstairs: photos of Disneyland and Britney Spears.
A peek at a leader's life [WaPo]
Slate has recruited PR pros to analyze the Iraqi information minister's bizarre speech in which he claimed that there were no Americans in Baghdador that perhaps there were Americans in Baghdad, but they were committing suicide en masse. (Or that maybe the Republican Guard had made themselves invisible and were now blasting U.S. Marines with their superhuman heat ray vision.) Some responses:
· Mike McCurry (Bill Clinton's press secretary): "I'm sure the poor guy has to do this because someone's going to shoot him if he doesn't. At least I never had that problem."
· Frank Mankiewicz (vice chairman of Hill & Knowlton): "I think this guy is playing on the fact that there are really millions of people who just don't believe the U.S. under any circumstances."
· Maurie Perl (Conde Nast's senior vice president for corporate relations) "I'm going to have to take a pass on this one," (adding that she's on deadline with something else.)
· Bobby Zarem (entertainment industry flack): "I want them all killed...I don't think anyone is listening or cares."
Professionals offer advice to Iraq's unhinged information minister [Slate]
A reader on "the Wallpaper*-ization of geo-politics," or "a glimpse into why war is (Conde) Nast-y, brutish and long":
Conde Nast chief Steve Florio on the smoking ban: "This is way over the line. If you're a member of any private club and they have a designated area where you can smoke a cigar, I think that should be allowed. It's one of those nice things you can do with your buddies...I was a little shocked that with everything that's happening in New York City that the mayor has decided that this is how he'll be remembered...It really, really makes me miss Rudy."
Sorry, old boy, the mayor says no smoking [NYT]
"Gawker is like a Manhattan socialite's version of Popbitch. In their own words: 'It's a live review of city news, and by news, we mean urban dating rituals, no-ropes social climbing, Conde Nastiness, downwardly-mobile i-bankers, real estate porn.'"
The Face No. 75, April 2003, p. 64
An "anonymous source inside the Condé Nast" building fact-checks my cafeteria report:
Thursday. 03.20.03. Thirteen hundred hours. I have successfully infiltrated the Conde Nast cafeteria. Over the course of the last few weeks, I have spent countless secondsentire minutes, evenin preparation for this mission. The careful transmission of multiple electronic mail messages to people on "the inside," the establishment of a plausible cover ("lunch"), and careful analysis of the enemy's behavioral patterns have paved the way for what will prove to be my most ambitious espionage operation yet.
British journalist Toby Young's Condé Nast exposé, How to Lose Friends & Alienate People, has been adapted for the stage and will be playing at the Soho Theatre in London beginning April 29. Condé Nast chiefs can take small comfort in the fact that it's not a musical and they won't have to worry about staffers absent-mindedly humming the tune to "The Evil Cafeteria of Darkness."
Soho Theatre
Another reader: "This is a bit off-track from your Wintour story, but when I was working there as an intern at the end of 2001, I had actually seen shoes pointed toward the toilet in the women's room on the same floor as the cafeteriawhich explains how they're unnaturally so emaciated."
From a reader: "I don't know anything about the Empress Anna's dissatisfaction with the quality of the burger flipping at Conde Nast, but I can confirm her imperiousness. My wife and I went to the movies (the Landmark on East Houston) a couple of months ago, and had to ask a couple at the end of a row to stand up so we could get to two empty seats. They stood, with a certain amount of indignation, and as I squeezed past I couldn't help but notice that the chic-er of the two was Miss Wintour. The fact that she was wearing dark glasses only helped me confirm her identity, and the screen must have been very bright that day, as she kept them on throughout the movie. She also left with her companion a couple of minutes before the film finished, presumably so as not to be jostled by scum at the exit."
One Conde insider says the Wintour burger story is too good to be true. The news would have spread like wildfire, and our source hasn't heard it. On the other hand, he hasn't been to the cafeteria recently. "I go to the cafeteria only when accompanied. It's not good to go alone. Doesn't look good, you know." No wonder they're all so skinny. It's the Conde Nast diet: starvation by social pressure.
Here's a rumor about Anna Wintour we're trying to track down. Vogue's famously imperious editor was picking up her usual burger at the Conde Nast cafeteria. Bloody, in case you're wondering. The burger, that is. Anyway, the server, not knowing he's in the presence of greatness, taps his spatula impatiently against the metal. For this impudence, he's now out of a job. [Of course, he's just signed a six-figure deal on the tell-all book.] Anyone have any more details? Send them to tips@gawker.com.
The Conde Nast empire has spawned a new magazine, Keith Kelly and the NYT report. The yet-unnamed title will be a men's magazine that will focus on shopping. Conde Nast spokespeople, however, deny that anything new is in the works.
Conde Nast's big tease [Keith Kelly - Post]
A men's version of Lucky Magazine [NYT]
It's the new media world "fast track." Weasel your way into interning for/fact checking/bootlicking a bigshot mag hag, then write a scathing roman-a-clef. Your editor wonders: how long, exactly, does one have to work for the intended subject to have enough material for a book? Two years? Five minutes? Or can one just camp out in the Conde Nast cafeteria and eavesdrop? Not that I was planning to.
Rag mags bagged [Post]
Our sources tell us that recently "resigned" GQ Editor Art Cooper has a fan at Razor. A letter dated the 27th from Razor publisher Richard Botto included the following choice flatteries:
· "If Conde Nast thinks your time has past, we're ready to give you a forum to prove they're wrong."
· "You have proven that you know more about men than any of the 'boy' editors out there."
· "I don't care if you consult from a lounge chair in St Bart's."
· "You can be a hero once more."
