Conde Nast's Disappointing Style

When I think of Conde Nast several dominant characteristics immediately pop into mind. One, glamour. Two, a dearth of African Americans on staff. Three, style.

So, in passing over my second objection and focusing on the third, it is surprising to me that on the style count, Conde was a bit lacking in regards to their big send off of Steve Florio at the final publisher's meeting in Key Largo, Fla.

For one, Kevin Kelly of the New York Post informs us that:

"The music for the dinner dance on the final night was supplied by KC and the Sunshine Band, still going strong after 30 years."

What-the-fuck?

KC and the motherfucking Sunshine Band?! Not Parliament or even Chicago? Did S.I. Newhouse Jr., chairman of Conde Nast "shake-shake-shake ... shake" shake his booty?

Well, no he didn't; in fact he wasn't there, but in his place, Kelly writes, "(Newhouse) made sure his CEO for the past 10 years went out with a bang by presenting him with a Steuben crystal sculpture on black marble."

Hmm. Okay: at the risk of exposing an until now dormant metrosexuality, wouldn't Lalique crystal have been the better gift? And wouldn't the guys at Conde Nast be well aware of something like that ? Since when has The Corsair been the one to correct the arbiters elegentiae at Conde Nast on their sense of glassware?