 |
 In those crazy early days
 |
| Positano on the Amalfi Coast from hotel Le Sirenuse. 10:00 PM. Photo: JH. |
| Monday, August 22, 2011. Warm, mostly sunny weekend with some passing rain and thunderstorms last night. Meanwhile JH is vacationing in Italy (Positano, Ravello, Roma) where there are big crowds enjoying the last of summer. Here's a sneak peek at Positano ... |
Before I forget: The American Red Cross of Greater New York, with co-host Gilan and J. McLaughlin, are holding a “Croquet and Cocktails” Benefit featuring a Vintage Car Show, with Red Cross Hero Award recipient Sally Phipps, this coming Saturday in Southampton from five to eight o’clock at the Green at Olde Towne at 64 Wickapogue Road. The theme is The Great Gatsby and so is the attire. Big fun party. Co-chairs are Lisa Bytner, Eleni Gianopulos, Amy Hoadley, Peter Izzo, Polly Onet and Elsa and Peter Rapaport.
For more information contect Michelle Weinraub – American Red Cross, 212-875-2031 or Polly Onet at 212-876-6775. See you there Old Sport ... |
 |
 |
|
Today’s retro-Diary is historical in a personal way. It is dated September 25, 2002 and I wrote it to mark the Second Anniversary of the NYSD. We’ve actually never celebrated our anniversaries (the 11th anniversary comes up this September) Because of that I’d completely forgotten about this Diary which records how it all came about and how it started at the very zenith of the so-called Dotcom Boom.
I had the idea in my head for years before it was actualized because it was widely believed that a start-up site required an initial investment from the mid-six figures to the low sevens, something I never had access to. Nobody thought a “social column” on the web had any legs. (“Who would read it?” was the question I was asked again and again by people who were admitting their lack of interest). Today, of course, NYSD holds a unique position in the category but suffice to say there are lots and lots of social web site and blogs proliferating all over the country and the world.
In those crazy early days of the internet, it was naively assumed by almost everybody that having a web site would produce millions of readers from all over the world, and instantly. That notion still resides in the craws of some people (who’ve never had a web site). The first full month in business I think we had about 3000 visitors. At the time, it seemed like a good healthy number. Nowadays we have more visitors than that by 6 a.m. of a new day.
Happy Boit-day Noo Yawk Social Diary Dot Com
(first published on September 25, 2002)
On this day (9/25) two years ago (2000) , we started the NYSD with a single piece on the death of Edmond Safra in Monte Carlo. I had a very clear objective in mind while formulating the web site in my mind.
|
 |
| On our way uptown one September night, two years ago. |
|
When I was in my late twenties and longing to be a writer, and feeling like I couldn’t, wasn’t, would never be, I embarked on a project: keeping a journal. I used it mainly to vent and to force myself to look foolish even in words – thinking that I would diminish my self-consciousness about writing for someone else’s eyes.
I was well into it for years thereafter. And I did write (almost) everything down. Most of it too silly and pedestrian to even consider, and all of it, no matter how outrageous, very ordinary. For we are ordinary creatures, even the madmen among us, not nearly as imbued with the supremeness we entertain amongst ourselves.
Eventually, through dogged obstinacy, I transformed myself into what is regarded as a professional writer, even earning money for my efforts (although never nearly enough). However, my real pleasure was always the Journals. Perhaps because they are so unabashedly self-indulgent and self-centered. Yes, yes, there you have it.
I came to New York ten years ago this month. I’d been living in Los Angeles. I was broke, really broke, and was offered a job here in New York. Now, I liked living in Los Angeles, unlike a lot of New Yorkers. I LOVED living in Los Angeles. It always felt like you were in a movie, and a far better one than the movies they’re cranking out these days. However, fate in the form of poverty, demanded a return to the City.
I was crying my eyes out (slight exaggeration) as I drove eastward; me, the three “d’s,” Mrs. Fa Fa, Rum Rum and Boyzie-Woyzie; plus the computer, some books and all the clothes I’d need for the wintertime. One of the earliest lessons I’d learned from my early years of Journals keeping was that I’m a big (closet) complainer. Lots of boohoo, moaning, whining, raging, ragging, gagging. Re-reading so much of that years later was really ... unattractive ... to behold.
I’ve made an effort most of my life since then to counter my genetic predisposition for complaining, into something ... more constructive? And so, driving across this astonishingly beautiful land of ours, and cursing god, myself and all the rest for my state of affairs, I said to myself: let’s have a dream instead.
“You’re going to New York, David, and you know it may not work out with this assignment you’re taking on, and if it doesn’t, you’re going to be stuck in New York. Not L.A. Whether you like it or not.
 |
|
| The Plaza Hotel, one starry night in September 2000. |
 |
| The St. Regis on that same night. |
|
So, I continued with myself, “if you’re going to be stuck in New York, what would make you happy? What would you like to do?”
And my me, replied to myself, “I’d like to write a social column in New York.”
Then I reminded myself, having been a lifelong aficionado of society columns, that there wasn’t a “market” for society columns in New York. There was Aileen Mehle. Period. And I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. And besides, what did I know? So I told myself to forget about this “dream,” but just remember I had had it, a subject of lifelong interest looking to settle down.
That was in September. The following December my friend Beth De Woody took me to a cocktail party at Chanel and I met Heather Cohane who at the time owned Quest Magazine. I’d read Quest in California and often thought (presumptuously maybe) that I could do that and even better. Really. After a brief conversation with Heather about a mutual friend, she asked me if I’d like to write about the lady – a fascinating woman named Gloria Etting who is now edging closer and closer to her own centennial and living in Palm Beach.
I wrote the piece and about forty others after that. A year later Heather asked me if I wanted to write a “column,” and so it began.
It was not long after that the internet began a subject of speculation and dreams (this was mid-90s). I knew on awareness that this was a great medium for the Social Diary and an opportunity for me to exercise the pleasure of Journal-writing, for out there in all that vastness is the rest of us, and the internet gives the potential of opportunity connecting with the “rest of us.”
For a few years after that, I put it off. That was during the rise and inflation of what is now called the dotcom bubble. Everyone who “knew” told me I needed at least a half million dollars to start the site, and maybe a million. Some suggested I try for twenty. Million. The numbers were so staggering for this guy who just wants to write his journals that I never quite got anywhere near there.
Finally in mid-1997, I was editing a magazine. One night at dinner, its publisher told me that “we” were going on the internet. This, having been something on my mind for a long time, I decided to confide that I too was “going on the internet.”
“Where will YOU get the money?” she asked, with all its implications in her tone.
“I don’t need any money,” I blurted out, like that impertinent kid you wanna smack.
|
 |
| Looking south on Fifth Avenue. Mid January 2001. |
|
I went home that night thinking, this is it. A little less than eight weeks later I quit the magazine and with JH, who was my assistant at the time, we figured out (he actually) how to go up on the internet. And thus it was.
The first few weeks it was touch and go. We didn’t know what the hell we were going to do on a day to day. We had eight hundred visits the first week. Last month we had more than 300,000 from all over the world. The initial outlay of funds was less than $5000. What a cloud we would have been riding on, had we a hundred times that!! Or 200 times!! Gawd.
A few months after starting the NYSD, Chris Meigher, now owner of Quest asked me if I’d like to join them again with a monthly column and as editor-in-chief. Not having forgotten the value of “print” I naturally said yes.
The NewYorkSocialDiary.com continues to have its own (and very demanding) life. JH is the photographer and the art director and the techie, the man who makes it (and his photo subjects) look good, and the partner who keeps the cyber-ship sailing and on course. And I continue to develop within myself the objective of the Journals, which is to tell it as accurately, with the minimum of vulgarity and whining, in as best light, as possible, in hopes that the reader will be somehow entertained. Because if you’re not entertained, then why bother?
I often think of that trip across the American continent in early September 1992. Such an unhappy boy, driving across the Great Plains; me and the “d’s,” choking the whine and stoking the dream. The idea had no gravity but was only a dream, a dream that turned into the good ship NYSD.
Dreams are good for us, even more so in these times. Big wide hopeful even seemingly impossible dreams. They can come true. And thank you, every devoted, curious, occasional, first-time, sometime, never again reader; we’re for you! |
| |
Comments? Contact DPC here. |
|
|
|
|
