"Someone in our art department knows someone at Campari," shrugged a Radar staffer when asked why Radar was co-hosting a party at the Campari gallery in Soho. "Hey, where's Balk?" I rolled my eyes at him. "So are you really upset about him leaving?" the Radar staffer persisted. "Yes, he's like a dadbrother to me," I told him honestly. "But I'm sure he'll have a great time working for you guys. He loves this kind of thing." The Radar staffer was just perspicacious enough to realize that I was being sarcastic. He shook his highball glass, which contained Campari. "Hey, free drinks." Laurel Ptak took photos so you can see just how wrong this scene is.
In addition to the free drinks, the party boasted a few other attractions. Like: Radar editor Maer Roshan and Gawker publisher Nick Denton, standing in the exact same brightly-lit room! (Mmm, friendly.) Art, at least some of it by Terence Koh! A teenaged singer strumming his guitar in the corner while absolutely no one paid attention to his underamplified set! Observer media reporter Michael Calderone! "I sit right next to Doree. If I wanted to, I could just reach over and touch her," he told us.
But the evening's real highlight was the outfits the cocktail waitresses were forced to wear. In keeping with Campari's "it's sort of the 30s, but breast implants have been invented" advertising, they were dressed all sexy-retro, and they were wearing these adorable little hats with veils by Victor Osborne. We were hoping that was what was going to be in the goodie bag, or rather goodie box. Instead: a miniature bottle of Campari.