The professional party reporter's guide to gossip.
"I spend a lot of time at the bar, in the smoking section, and in the restroom."
Happy Thanksgiving! I am so grateful that you have all decided to make Feed Me part of your daily news intake. If you’re spending today playing football in a big backyard, or rolling out pie dough with your grandma, I don’t expect you to pick up your phone and read Feed Me.
For the rest of us,
has put together something I consider even sweeter than dessert: a guide to gossip, according to professional gossipers. I’ve watched her painstakingly hone her craft the past few months: staying at the bar until last call, spending time with and giving respect to sources, and treating party reporting in the most exciting city in the world as an art.This newsletter is best enjoyed in the backseat of a long car ride, on a smoke break with your cousins, or when you’re “answering a work email.” And for those of you looking for more icebreakers for tonight’s dinner, head to the Feed Me chat.
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The professional party reporter’s guide to gossip.
By
When people find out that I’m a party reporter, they start asking lots of questions about my job. My friends want to know how I remember everything I observe, and how I find out about these parties (an election night watch party at The New York Young Republicans Club HQ, a literary event at a downtown Burger King where a Housewife is reading) in the first place.
When I’m at Gospël with my friends on a Friday night, they’ll often ask me how I have the energy after attending seven parties in the days prior. The short answer: It’s my job. The longer answer is that those of you who work in finance still go out until 4am after spending 12 hours glued to your desk chair, powered by Zyn and Sweetgreen. The same goes for those of you who work front of house (a much harder job than finance, in my opinion) and have already spent an evening sweet-talking drunk people before heading out the door to get a drink yourselves. I always point out that I’m 23 years old and I live in New York City. What else am I supposed to do, other than go out?
Still, I wondered the same thing before I started this job. I used to read Brock Colyar’s are u coming? column in The Cut and admire how they would pick descriptions of a scene, quotes, and cultural observations and arrange them like a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Brock’s fly-on-the-wall reporting from one of Kaitlin Phillips’s 2021 apartment parties is a classic of the contemporary party reporting genre.
Other essential reads: the obvious one, “Radical Chic: That Party at Lenny’s” by Tom Wolfe for New York Magazine in June of 1970. Natasha Stagg’s newsletter. Anything by Gay Talese, who I once read refers to reporting as “the fine art of hanging out.” That stuck with me: it’s pretty hard to get sources to tell you things if you can’t hang.
I figured, since everyone has so many burning questions about how party reporters do their job, why not ask the greatest party reporters and gossip experts how they’ve done it for years? Our experts include:
Oli Coleman, deputy editor of Page Six, with the uncanny ability to identify every face in the room at New York’s star-studded parties.
Lachlan Cartwright, former executive editor of the National Enquirer, Vanity Fair contributing editor, and founder of Breaker Media (home of notoriously scoop-y scoops, leading to speculation in the Feed Me chat about who his “deep throat” might be).
Brock Colyar, features writer at New York Magazine behind their blockbuster stories on young Republicans and West Village Girls. Previously wrote the “are u coming?” column, which successfully resuscitated the art of gonzo party journalism.
Zachary Weiss, former writer of The New York Observer’s “Shindigger” column turned branding expert behind Outerspace and Nice Laundry, Vogue contributor, and “social fixture” at Manhattan parties according to Air Mail.
Mitchell Jackson, Vice reporter turned public relations specialist for the likes of Candace Owens and Adam Friedland. Wears an L.L. Bean tote bag with the word “Cancelled” on it, according to Anna Silman.
On the good old days:
Oli Coleman: The party reporters were once a portable party in their own right. There was a big troupe of us that formed and dispersed most nights and formed again the next night. Two things changed: the money dried up, and Jeff Slonim died. When Jeff died, that party — our party — ended, really. What never changed is this: there’s as much glamor, drama, talent and gossip as there ever was — we just get a bigger share of it now that there are fewer reporters fighting for it.
Lachlan Cartwright: I really learnt everything at The Sun in London where I spent almost 5 years of my early career. That was the remnants of Fleet Street. You had these absolutely legendary reporters and for whatever reason they took a shine to me and would let me join them down the boozer with their sources. I learnt how they worked their contacts. I had a news editor there who would scream in reporters’ faces: “I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING EXCUSES. I WANT YOUR FUCKING EXCLUSIVES.”
Mitchell Jackson: I was the twink reporter at Vice, and I covered a mix of fading pop divas, gay sex, parties, and outsider artists. When you’re a party reporter, you need people to give you good quotes. A New York fashion week party always made me want to slit my wrists. Fashion people cannot talk. I always loved reporting at brothels and at Juggalo motel parties, because Juggalos and hoes were quote machines. A Juggalo would be chugging Faygo, lighting up a pipe, and telling you about their family drama, in between giving someone a stick-and-poke tattoo. In between the dumbest shit you’ve ever heard, they would tell you something so insightful and profound. I miss the Juggalos so much.
“I DON’T WANT YOUR FUCKING EXCUSES. I WANT YOUR FUCKING EXCLUSIVES.” - Lachlan Cartwright’s editor at The Sun in London.
Zachary Weiss: I worked at Page Six for three days right out of school to cover the editor-in-chief’s desk around the holidays. The day rate was something amazing at the time like $250, which was incredible at that age, but I quickly found out I didn’t have the guts for gossip writing. You always had someone angry with you, and it seemed to me that emails often only got a reply out of fear.
Lachlan: I’ve seen staplers and other objects thrown at reporters’ heads for getting beat on a scoop. I’ve seen people crushed by bullies who should have never risen to the top job of being editor. But I’ve also been witness to moments of camaraderie and shared some of the most fun times in newsrooms.
The cardinal rules:
Brock Colyar: My first rule of party reporting was to never inspire too much FOMO in the reader. No one wants to read a scene report about how you went to the most fabulous event with the most fabulous people and ate the most fabulous canapes and got drunk on all the free Veuve. A good party reporter should be a party critic. The second most important rule, of course, is make your reader feel like they were there in the room with you, and the only way to do that is to treat partying like an Olympic sport. First of all, I arrive early — usually, very early. And I stay late, until I’m kicked out. A party is a play in three acts and you want to be present for all of it.
Zachary: I quickly learned that it was impossible to be in every room every night, although I did try. In the end, it was better to pick one place, stay put, and hope you’re in the right room that night.
Brock: The journalist Peggy Orenstein once told me the secret to scene reporting is writing down every single detail possible, even details you think might be completely irrelevant: the color of the floors; the texture of the ceiling; the number of people you can quickly count in the room; what kind of soap is in the restroom; etc.
“Pick one place, stay put, and hope you’re in the right room that night.” – Zachary Weiss
Oli: Regarding what to cover, you move with the times — it used to be socially acceptable to ask if people planned to have kids, and now (fortunately) it’s not. On the other hand, you’re probably more likely to get away with asking someone about their filler now. The rules that are true on the carpet, for the most part, are approximately the same as at dinner parties. The exception is that if someone at a party is involved in a legitimate news story — then you ask what you gotta ask. Underneath it all, we’re still journalists.
Brock: Usually, the central hub of the party is the least interesting place to be. I spend a lot of time at the bar, in the smoking section, and in the restroom. Another thing: While it is exciting to get a quote from the most famous person in the room, I find it’s often more interesting to talk to the normies — the admirers and the haters. Unless it’s Rihanna. She’s lovely, and as others have said before, she smells incredible, like gardenias and weed.
