Choire Sicha recounts in today's Observer a party I dragged him to at the Four Seasons--a fund raiser for some charity co-hosted by Harper's Bazaar's Glenda Bailey and Demi Moore. Choire writes:

The evening was horrific. Poor Ms. Spiers spent hours trying to infiltrate the gelatinous human cluster around Demi Moore, the only A-list star present, who squatted in a dark corner like a tick so glutted on blood she couldn't even twitch her legs. As we recall, the weary Ms. Spiers came away with a quotation from someone who was then lucky or savvy enough to be temporarily famous—Scott Speedman, perhaps?

I wrote an essay last week about why I hate party reporting and there was something about it starting with Tina Brown's launch party for Topic A and Paris Hilton's book party being the final straw.
But now that I think about it, this party was much, much worse.

(There was no red carpet, though. I've never actually done that.) A publicist (I don't remember which one) had been calling all week begging New York mag to cover the event, and there wasn't much else going on that night, so I went.

When I arrive, there are exactly three celebrities at the event: Demi Moore, Toby Maguire and Alan Cumming. Kevin Huvane, Demi's agent, is playing human shield and barking at anyone who tries to talk to her. Kevin informs me (rudely) that I can't talk to Demi and physically bars anyone from even getting within ten feet of her. Same with Toby. I catch Cumming avec new boyfriend, and get a condescending, "no press! I'm not doing any press!" So as a last resort, I find Glenda Bailey, who rather unbelievably tells me to talk to her publicist. (I make a mental note to ask the publicist why subscriptions are down at Harper's Bazaar.)

Later the publicist calls and wants to know if we're going to cover it. Absolutely not, I tell her. I don't see any point in inviting reporters to an event if they're not allowed to actually cover it. For the love of god, Glenda Bailey wouldn't even give me a quote and she, of all people, should understand why I need some actual news if they want coverage. I wasted two hours of my time, dragged poor Choire to the godawful event, and came away with nothing. The publicist's incredulous response: but you got to go to a party with celebrities!

I don't know what's more frightening: that she thinks hanging out with celebrities is its own reward and that it's preferrable to spending those couple of hours with, say, my actual friends, or that there are reporters who do enjoy that sort of thing or the publicist wouldn't have been so shocked. I realize that there are a number of well-read publications that consist of nothing more than photos of smiling celebrities looking fabulous at parties, but New York isn't (theoretically) one of them, and celebs sipping champagne at the Four Seasons with other celebs isn't really news. Something has to happen. Someone has to say something interesting.

A few weeks later another publicist calls trying to place an item about Bailey buying a friend a birthday cake. And that's the entire item: She bought a friend a birthday cake. It was, you know, a nice thing to do. And wouldn't it be fabulous for the column? Did she throw the cake? No. "Sorry," I said. "Not news. Glenda buys cake--not an item. Glenda throws cake--item!"