What if you defended your honor, and your girlfriend's, and she went off anyway with another guy? Harsh. For the first time ever, I feel a little bad for Hud Morgan of Men's Vogue. Last week, the fruitini-drinking former gossip columnist called out one of his friends for joking about his relationship with a barely legal actress, Leven Rambin of daytime soap All My Children. She wasn't worth it, Hud. First, the Men's Vogue writer was slapped in the face by Spencer Morgan of the New York Observer, the mocking friend, in one of the most public places imaginable, the hottest downtown nightspot, the Beatrice Inn. Now Page Six reports the fickle Rambin, who previously had an affair with Julia Allison's geeky boyfriend, has already moved on. At a party on Saturday night at the Spotted Pig, the "possessed" 17-year-old was spotted making out with hat-wearing music producer, Mark Ronson.

This story is so awesome: in part because it centers around Hud Morgan, the scarf-wearing and fruitini-drinking libertine who's dating a barely legal daytime TV actress; but mainly because last night's incident between two journalists at the Beatrice Inn is an echo of the noir New York of vicious gossip columnists and drunken fights over starlets. (If we're playing Sweet Smell Of Success, can I be J.J. Hunsecker, please?)

Hud Morgan's budding relationship with Leven Rambin provokes several responses: admiration, that the Men's Vogue writer, can land women as young and beautiful as the blonde actress from All My Children; disapproval, because Rambin, the "adopted" little sister of Star magazine talking head, Julia Allison, is just 17 years old; but mainly amazement, because fruitini-loving Morgan (right) is the most sexually ambiguous ladies' man in Manhattan. Evidence? Try this, from the former gossip columnist's first journalism gig, at Stanford University in 2001, explaining his desire to be reincarnated as a water polo player. "Watching our water polo team play is a lesson in Arian-erotica sport; a Sparticus meets Seaworld, as we, the pasty plebian spectators champion our heroes who wear the armor of a glistening tan." After the jump, a picture Hud might like.

Julia Allison may have finally met her match. The Star magazine talking head was seen in tears last night at Tara Subkoff's party at low-ceilinged downtown club, the Beatrice Inn. (Party photographs are on Getty Images.) Allison is pretty thick-skinned, her ambition undimmed by the abuse she's received from blogs and former boyfriends. But other party-goers, who included maybe-gay socialite Fabian Basabe, saw her traumatized by a half-hour lecture from Hud Morgan. The belligerent Men's Vogue writer accused the "craven self-promoter" of dragging other people into her bad press. The talking bosom's plaintive response? "I'm a dating columnist. It's what I do. People don't give Candice Bushnell a hard time. Why is everyone so mean to me?!" Why, indeed? (The answers, which include a red scarf, and teen starlet Leven Rambin, after the jump.)

The audience for men's magazines is maturing, but don't call readers metrosexual. The Financial Times talks to Men's Vogue editor Jay Fielden, who is trying to sneak fashion past suspicious straight guys. "'Earning your way into men's working and leisure time is a difficult thing,' says Mr Fielden, who previously worked as an editor at Vogue and The New Yorker and might serve as a stand-in for his ideal reader. At our meeting in the Condé Nast cafeteria, he was wearing a pinstripe suit with a pink polkadot handkerchief. His tie was askew. Yet Mr Fielden's Texas roots filter through his accent, he is married, and can credibly claim to hunt quail." Hunting quail? Don't go getting too butch on us, Jay. We're easily confused. [FT]

Men's Vogue fella Hud Morgan is finally reporting in from somewhere as WASPy as his name: Murray's, on Nantucket's Main Street, where the pale people buy those heinous Nantucket Reds. But bad news!

Is appearing on the cover of Men's Vogue really the wisest move for a presidential candidate battling perceptions that he's a pretty lightweight? [WWD]

• Garden & Gun has less than auspicious debut, arriving as it did just a few days before decidedly unpicturesque massive gun violence at Virginia Tech. [NYT]
  

• If you want to win in the end, you've got to indoctrinate them when they're young. [LittleDemocrats]
• Whitney Houston's sober, and you've got Courtney Love to thank for it. Now just imagine how that all came about. [Idolator]
• Why in the name of God is Men's Vogue hosting a slideshow of Francesco Vezzoli's Caligula? This really doesn't help their case. [Men's Vogue]
• The New Yorker pacifies toddlers and puts to sleep people of all ages. [Flickr]
• Giorgio Armani designs tomorrow's issue of the Independent, affectionately called the Red Issue. Just like his skin. [Independent]
• Only hipsters would upload a video with puppets singing about hipsters. [Animal]
• Murray's Hill: an imagined sitcom with music by the Fray, sponsored by Sparks. [Leveraged Sellout]
• Kanye West is many things to many people. Many Gay things. [One D at a Time]
• Jane editor Brandon Holley abandons punk roots, gets engaged. Mazel tov, ya sellout! [FishbowlNY]
• Sad news for fans of excellent British automotive television: Top Gear's Richard Hammond has been in a car accident. At 280 MPH. [Jalopnik]

And so finally, from Page Six, we learn where WWD mediagal Sara James is headed if not to Radar. She'll be joining Men's Vogue as its fashion news editor. Because how could you possibly pass up the chance to spend your days with Hud Morgan?

It seems like just yesterday that we were mourning the loss of Cargo, but Conde moves along quickly, and there's no time for tears. Given that some believe Vogue editor Anna Wintour may have pushed Cargo a bit closer towards the death knell, lest it become a threat to her babies at Men's Vogue, it's an amusing coincidence that Men's Vogue is possibly taking over Cargo's old space at 4 Times Square. But that's the nature of intra-Conde warfare: divide, conquer, set up new cubicles.

Late yesterday afternoon, the brutal lords of Condé Nast pulled the plug on woefully misguided shopping mag Cargo — and the people, well, barely shrugged. In the aftermath, Women's Wear Daily asks today why Condé hadn't given Cargo another shot with a new editor. In the months since publisher Lance Ford's August arrival, word was the Cargo would be perking up:

• People magazine shoots to number one on AdWeek's hot list, proving that the fat-beach-mommy demographic is lucrative as ever. [NYP]
• Slate tries to figure out why American Media titles are doing so poorly and discovers, surprisingly, it's not all Bonnie Fuller's fault. Kind of. [Slate]
• After a record-breaking follow-up issue, Men's Vogue may prove that metroxsexual magazines do work in the Midwest. [WWD]
• New York City ad industry probe shows that executives are doing a horrible job at hiring minorities. The Wassupp!!! guys set the bar way too high, apparently. [AdAge]

This just in from a sure-to-be-dejected Lloyd Grove:

Holy shit, did you hear? Publishers are "confident," perhaps with no good reason whatsoever! To wit: Hearst and Conde Nast have given the big, gay green light to two test titles, Weekend and Men's Vogue, respectively, which are soon to be regular fixtures in your monthly newsstand scowlathon.

• Everybody who's anybody — and many who are nobody — turned out for a tribute to Peter Jennings at Carnegie Hall yesterday. [WP]
• The New Yorker/NYPD's Ed Conlon signs for first novel, gets $550K advance. Also, AMI shrinks Enquirer to save money. [NYP]
• Katrina shows Big Media are snobs, too. [VV]
• OK! America could pay up $2 million for pix of Britney's baby — unless the dreaded paparazzi get there first. [Radar]
• The Times further stokes Jack Shafer's ire — and this time rips his flesh, too — this time with a bogus trend story. [Slate]
• Elizabeth Spiers, who is friends with Dana Vachon, says the "continued prospects" of Men's Vogue "are positive." Si Newhouse exhales in relief. [MB]

The Washington Post's Magazine Reader, Peter Carlson, takes a look today at Men's Vogue, and it seems he — how to put this gently? — despises it and all it represents.

Vogue editor Anna Wintour and her latest houseboy, Men's Vogue editor Jay Fielden, descended upon Matt Lauer this morning for a little chit-chat about Men's Vogue. After clarifying that gay men are really what industry insiders call "fashion customers," Anna Wintour lobbed the ball over to Fielden, whose mouth moved so very little while speaking that we'd wager he may have had his jaw wired shut (which would explain his trim figure). We can't really defend this comment, but he really just seemed like an asshole. But more importantly, Fielden was so clearly terrified — not of being on tv, but of Wintour — that, from here on out, Men's Vogue shall now be referred to as Little Bitch's Vogue.

And in that respect, Men's Vogue is about the challenge. Don't be embarrassed; reading it is meant to be hard.

Madonna and Guy Ritchie not included. (Click to enlarge.)