On Saturday, while any self-respecting magazine editor was scooting around the Hamptons, an anonymous Twitter user with the handle “CondeElevator” crackled to life, broadcasting from inside the Condé Nast elevators at 4 Times Sqaure.
With staffers and visitors of all stations sharing rides to and from the Frank Gehry cafeteria, the elevators have long been a conduit for company gossip to the outside. But by opening up a g-mail account for submissions, the tweeter can be in both elevator banks and once and better avoid being identified.
“Things heard in the Conde Nast elevators do not stay in the Conde Nast elevators. Email what you hear to firstname.lastname@example.org,” says its bio.
So far, the dispatches reflect the Condé Nast we know and love: fear of Anna Wintour, food anxiety, women who date ambitiously, and male editors beleaguered by squeezing sex jokes into headlines.
The question is, how long until a witch hunt is launched? Keep us posted at email@example.com.