Narrative 4 Executive Director Lisa Consiglio and Colum McCann (Photo credit: James Higgins).

Last Friday night, a slew of literary luminaries gathered at a cocktail party in an Astor Square penthouse to celebrate the launch of Narrative 4, an organization co-founded by authors Colum McCann and Luis Alberto Urrea to promote social change through storytelling.

“It’s like a United Nations for young storytellers,” Mr. McCann, clad in his signature skinny scarf, told Off the Record, standing on a balcony overlooking downtown Manhattan. “The whole idea behind it is that the one true democracy we have is storytelling. It goes across borders, boundaries, genders, rich, poor—everybody has a story to tell.”

The premise of the project is that it will connect teenagers from very different backgrounds (for example, a victim of gun violence in Chicago could be paired with a teenager in Newtown, Conn.) and encourage them to learn “radical empathy” by exchanging stories from their lives.

To kick off the project, Narrative 4 partnered with Esquire to get 106 writers, including Salman Rushdie, Ian McEwan, Edna O’Brien, Kurt Andersen, Amy Bloom and Téa Obreht, to contribute an original story on the subject of “How to Be a Man.” About a dozen of the short stories were published in the June/July issue of Esquire (the rest are available on Narrative 4’s website for a $5 donation ).

“I was just impressed at how short you were able to write,” Esquire editor in chief David Granger told Mr. McCann about his entry.

“I know, usually I just blather on and on and on and on,” Mr. McCann replied in his lilting Irish accent.

Plenty of big names contributed to the project—including actor Gabriel Byrne. We asked the Irish actor how he became involved in the venture. “I slept with him,” Mr. Byrne, said, pointing to Mr. McCann. “He’s joking,” Mr. McCann quickly clarified.

“We are storytelling creatures. Almost the first thing we want after mother’s milk is someone to tell us a story,” Salman Rushdie told OTR. “We are the only creature on earth that tells stories.”

“My daughter will tell you that dolphins tell each other stories,” Mr. McCann volunteered, after a partygoer challenged Mr. Rushdie’s assertion.

“Well, we are probably the only species that tells lies,” Mr. Rushdie conceded. “In other words, fiction. I don’t know that dolphins have fiction.”

They certainly don’t have book parties.

“I’m writing another epistle here, Salman,” Mr. McCann said, as he signed Mr. Rushdie’s copy of Transatlantic, his new novel (the event doubled as a book party for the 2009 National Book Award winner).

As guests sipped white wine and watched the sun set over Manhattan, Mr. McCann continued to talk about the reasons behind the organization.

“You go to all these festivals, and it’s nice, and everyone slaps you on the back,” Mr. McCann said. “But in the end, you want to do something beyond the fiction.”

As The New York Times breathlessly recounted early this year, Esquire dabbled in e-ink in 2008, offering a cover that blinked at you from the newsstand. In 2009, it published a splashy "augmented reality" issue in which Jeremy Renner let you decide what he wore in a fashion spread. Last year, it launched and shuttered an ecommerce partnership with J.C. Penney called Clad.

Its latest digital add-on, Adweek reports, is a video "trailer" for the August issue (a gambit previously used to promote Chris Jones's take on the Zanesville Zoo Story), which will be available online and via a QR code on the back of the magazine. A sometimes clunky attempt to merge print and digital media, QR codes are black and white   printed on magazine pages that readers scan with a smart phone camera to "unlock" digital content or, when used in partnership with advertisers, special coupons. Glossy magazines have been testing them out over the past few years and, as Esquire editor-in-chief David Granger endearingly admitted, finding they don't always work.

"People are suspicious of QR codes," Mr. Granger told Adweek. "They think it’s an ad for something. But I think we’ve been doing enough amusing stuff with QR codes that readers will actually trust and use them."

He's also going to keep throwing these trailers up against the wall until they stick—or we get sick of them.

Granger, who's experimented with unusual cover treatments in recent years, hopes that Esquire can continue to make trailers for all of its upcoming issues, depending on what assets they have. "This happened to be a really rich issue, but we are actively making the effort to do trailers as often as we can, at least until we—or our readers—get sick of them," he said.

Mr. Granger's candor is a welcome reminder that we're all in this long, slow, death of print together, guys.

Watch the trailer below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47_8OopgUlo

Bradley Cooper (Getty Images)

First Daughter of Mustique Elizabeth Hilfiger shouted "Is BryanBoy here?" The elusive Philippine blogger may not be, a P.R. type informed her. "BRYANBOY," she groaned, exhibiting a classic vocal fry. Nearby, Bradley Cooper discussed football with New York Giant Victor Cruz--"I'm an Eagles man myself," said the Limitless star--between posing for snaps with fans. We were stalking the gravel yard in the center of the Park Avenue Armory before the military-inflected Tommy Hilfiger show began.

Brad Goreski, of Bravo's It's a Brad, Brad World, chatted with The Observer about reality-TV fame. "I don't know if I've opened myself up to a new client base--but I definitely have no secrets!" What was he here for? "I'm looking for clothes for myself!" He said he had some shoots coming up, too, but wouldn't reveal for which outlets. That was to remain secret.

Upon leaving, we spotted GQ editor Jim Nelson. We asked him how his fashion week was progressing, though we were more interested in his publication's recent zoo-story showdown with Esquire, the rival men's rag that published the same feature as GQ on the same day. Perhaps seeing the glint in our eye, he said "I'm not prepared!" and scampered off.

Esquire editor David Granger, standing with a posse of young underlings, was more verbose. After telling us he'd been a supporter of Mr. Hilfiger for years, he feigned confusion as to the twin zoo stories. Why should anyone read his story over GQ's? "Wait--GQ did a story on the Zanesville zoo?  I was in California, and I didn't know!" Then he looked directly into our eyes waiting for the reaction he knew would come. It came and he smiled. We smiled and he was gone.

Those operations may have been a drop in the bucket for the billion-dollar company, but they appeared to have an equal and opposite reaction in traditional media, setting off an e-commerce arms race across magazines in 2011.

Contrary to gender stereotypes, Conde Nast’s and Hearst’s rival men’s magazines emerged as some of the biggest players in the new hybrid game. This fall, GQ partnered with the Gilt Groupe full-price men’s store, Park & Bond, and Esquire opened CLAD, a luxury online store merchandised by J.C. Penney.

And now that magazines are in the business of retail, the month of December isn’t just “Best of the Year” lists and Four Seasons lunches. There’s inventory to move!

Park & Bond stocked an empty space in the Meatpacking District with items from GQ’s “Best Stuff of 2011,” feting the ephemeral store’s opening on Tuesday night.

Paul Sevigny DJ’d and a St. Germain, vodka, grapefruit juice cocktail called the Gentleman was served. The vodka was omitted from the Transom’s Gentleman, but we were too distracted by the bone structure of the gentleman serving it to complain.

In fact, the store was staffed such that an appearance by Gossip Girl star Chace Crawford might have gone unnoticed were it not for the cluster of women he attracted.

We asked Mr. Crawford what it had been like to act with Keith Gessen, the n+1 editor who recently portrayed the public boyfriend of Nate’s (Mr. Crawford’s character’s) secret lover.

Mr. Crawford smiled blankly. Who could blame him? Gossip Girl’s cameos (Jonathan Karp, Jay McInerney, Sloane Crosley, Hamish Bowles, Stefano Tonchi) had become a more detailed media and literary directory than the Michael’s reservation log.

“Everyone was great,” he concluded.

We surrendered him to a group of women with their iPhone cameras poised.

Revelers lingered around the tie display, where we watched a young MSNBC marketer drip cocktail condensation on a particularly fine wool specimen.

We cringed. We recognized the make, the signature wool in saturated rainbow cookie shades. They were made by that handsome Harvard graduate, the one who made that documentary. They were pretty expensive. Where had we read about those before?

Ah, yes, in GQ.

Retail was out of sight, if not out of mind, at the launch of Esquire's CLAD, nearly a week later on Monday. Esquire made the increasingly radical decision not to open a pop up store this season, and instead threw a party just a few cobblestones away from Park & Bond in the dim vault of Double Seven.

Esquire had been seeking a retail partner for years, editor in chief David Granger told the Transom, and has always been adventurous. He mentioned their pioneering augmented reality issue in December 2009, admittedly a one-off.

“You have to do these things before you know whether they’re going to be fun or good or profitable,” he said.

CLAD envisions its shopper, like the Esquire reader, as what Mr. Granger calls the “high normal American guy.” Educated but not pretentious, successful but still ambitious. The magazine’s fashion department reports back from shows in Milan and London to give CLAD executives a sense of where they see trends going.

“A lot of men lack confidence,” he said. “Taking part in CLAD is just another way to educate men about how to present themselves to the world.”

Mr. Granger’s sartorial road to Damascus moment occurred during his years as a sports reporter. He saw a photo of himself in the dugout with  David Parker, looking schlubby with long hair, a plaid short sleeve shirt and “some sort of nasty khakis.”

“Well, no wonder all these athletes hate us,” he remembered thinking. “It’s not because we’re reporters asking impertinent questions, it’s because we look like shit!”

The Transom silently blessed Mr. Granger for abiding our dingy jeans.

“I decided then that I would always be better dressed than the people I was reporting on, so they didn’t think ‘I don’t need to talk to this person.’”

It did the trick for Esquire great Gay Talese, we supposed.

"I love the tables," said Ms. Stewart, wearing billowing silk, regarding the giant, cross-shaped setup, made of unvarnished wood, in the center of the room.

She was seated in the corner and quickly started devouring some king crab.

Ma Peche (Mother Peach in Tay Boi, a Creole language of Vietnamese servants during the French colonization period) will be overseen by executive chef Tien Ho, who has been serving banh mi and hamburgers on the hotel's mezzanine level for a few months-mere placeholders for the restaurant's full menu, which will include oysters, squid (visibly savored by Mr. Batali), salad frisée with tripe and pork jowl croutons and pork ribs in a delectable lemon grass reduction, complemented by "weirdo wines," as young sommelier Christina Turley put it. Indie cred is further provided by a painting by Miguel Caldéron of five shirtless Mexican men wearing monster masks, seated atop dirt bikes, on loan from film director Wes Anderson.

This is the first time a Chang enterprise involves uniforms, coffee and room service, but Ms. Turley reassured us that the signature flourishes of Mr. Chang's renegade Momofuku empire will remain intact. "We don't take reservations and you can't substitute items on the menu," she said. "We'll be telling a lot of people 'no' who are used to hearing 'yes.'"

Ms. Stewart was overheard remarking to Cory Lane, Momofuku's service director, that perhaps the frisée was too spicy. But when the Transom approached, fortified by pork, Ms. Stewart had nothing but compliments.

"I love David Chang," she said. "I discovered him in the East Village, like everyone else."

And the new digs?

"Oh, the communal tables-people up here will have to get used to that."

Being editor in chief of Maxim seems a bit like being the keyboardist for the Grateful Dead or the drummer for Spinal Tap: It's a sweet gig ... for as long as it lasts.

Since the U.S. edition of Maxim was launched 12 years ago, the magazine has gone through nine top editors (10 if you include the hamster) in its quest to combine the dewiest WB actresses with the laciest lingerie. By way of comparison, GQ has had two editors in that time—Jim Nelson replaced Art Cooper, who died in 2003—as has Esquire, whose editor David Granger replaced Ed Kosner in 1998. (O.K., maybe 2.5 if you include Randall Rothenberg's brief tenure as "acting editor.")

In April 1997, the New York Daily News' Keith Kelly (yes, that Keith Kelly) reported that Felix Dennis was launching Maxim, "a bible for the Regular Guy" with Clare McHugh as editor in chief. "I think having a woman editor is an advantage you can get away with a lot more," Ms. McHugh told Mr. Kelly.

She was gone seven months later (again, per Newser Kelly), having, "resigned from Maxim to pursue other projects and directions."

Next up, Mark Golin (after a short interval of Keith Blanchard—remember that name!—working as acting editor), who took over the magazine in 1998, bringing it to new prominence, increased sales and headlines like MAXIM: IF IT ONLY HAD A BRAIN and Maxim's sometimes amusing, always dumb.

By February 1999, Mr. Golin had jumped ship to Details and was replaced by a hamster named Sammy.

Sammy's brief and ultimately uneventful run ended when his job went to Mike Soutar.

By April 2000, Mr. Soutar had left to return to London and become managing director of IPC Music & Sport, a rival magazine company.

With Mr. Soutar safely back in Blighty, Keith Blanchard was back on top at Maxim, where he stayed for the next four years—a good run, all things considered.

In July 2004, David Carr reported in The New York Times that Mr. Blanchard would be replaced by Ed Needham, late of Rolling Stone. Two years later, The Guardian was reporting Mr. Needham's resignation and return to England.

Mr. Needham was followed by Jimmy Jellinek, who moved from helming Maxim's little brother publication Stuff in May 2006. His tenure lasted just over a year when he was replaced by James Kaminsky, in the job until yesterday, when the departing editor told Keith Kelly (now of the Post, thank you very much), "I wish everyone working at the magazine the best."

Which brings us to Mr. Levy, who will now oversee Maxim and maxim.com according to a memo from Alpha Media Group CEO Stephen Duggan.

We wish Mr. Levy luck.

And now that we’re finally a couple months into the 21st century, how does it look for Esquire?

Not that much fun.

The October issue was its 75th anniversary issue, which at most magazines would make it the issue that delivers a nice, big, fat bounce in revenue. GQ last year celebrated its 50th anniversary with a 6 percent spike in ad pages.

Esquire, however, has lost 14.56 percent in ad pages this year, according to Media Industry Newsletter, and neither the anniversary nor its flashy cover was able to deliver the kind of momentum that they might have hoped.  

“We had a lot of ads in the October issue, and if it hadn’t been for the anniversary, we would have had a really bad last quarter,” said David Granger, the editor, laughing.

The anniversary issue sold 170 ad pages, the biggest October issue in the history of the magazine. At the same time, after a rather extensive rollout campaign that included a story in The Times two months before it was released, and a Granger appearance on the Today show, it didn’t do remarkably on the newsstand: It sold 140,000 copies, the second best issue of the year, but still trailing its Johnny Depp cover from January.

It kind of sums up its year.

“We didn’t have as good a year this year as we did the previous four years, but we do everything we can to make this magazine work,” continued Mr. Granger. “Advertising wasn’t as strong across the industry as it might have been. Of course, it’s mildly disappointing, but I’ve been in this job for 11 years and I’ve seen good years and bad years and I understand that’s the way it goes.”

The magazine’s so-so year is on a par with plenty of other big monthly magazines (The Atlantic is down nearly 17 percent, and Vanity Fair is down almost 15 percent), but it is noticeable for the fact that it didn’t do any better.

And some in the industry have pointed to its down year as a sign of its ambivalence in embracing the fashion world.

“As the men’s category gets smaller and smaller and smaller, it’s becoming more about fashion,” said one former men’s magazine publisher. “And the problem with Esquire is that it’s caught somewhere between being a literary magazine and a fashion magazine.”

In October, Condé Nast scaled back Men’s Vogue to two issues a year, leaving the three biggest men’s fashion magazines as GQ, Details (which lost 11.49 and 6.48 percent in ad pages, respectively) and Esquire. But Mr. Granger is, to some extent, ambivalent about being listed in that group. 

“The first meeting I had with a major fashion designer was with Giorgio Armani, and he told me that he completely understood what Esquire was—that fashion is an important component of it, that it’s part of its DNA, but that he understood we were something different,” he said.

“Fashion won’t overwhelm the other missions of the magazine,” he continued.

Esquire does produce The Big Black Book, an annual fashion guide that the magazine is selling this year for $11.95.

What about a pick-me-up for next year? Don’t expect any flashy covers next year, he said. They’re too expensive!

But Mr. Granger, who told Off the Record back in April that he’s flirted with the idea of an origami cover, said that his February issue will let readers “interact with the paper.”

jkoblin@observer.com

After hashing out Mr. Klosterman's rise from obscurity to admired and derided cultural critic, Ms. Hepola writes:

Will readers really have to live without Mr. Klosterman's observations on everything from Snakes on a Plane to different lighting schemes used by television networks?

Only for a little while, according to Esquire Editor-in-Chief David Granger. Reached by Media Mob, Mr. Granger clarified:

When asked by Mr. Brady if the golden age of magazines had passed, Mr. Granger responds:

In 2005, The Observer looked at 5280 (which has actually been around 15 years) when New York transplant writer-editor Maximillian Potter was nominated for two National Magazine Awards. (It should also be noted with pride that Cincinnati Magazine is edited by Observer alumni Jay Stowe.)

A quibble with Mr. Granger, though. In lauding Esquire he told Mr. Brady, "Norman Mailer wrote for Esquire. We published his 'White Negro' in the magazine."

Actually, according to Mailer biographer Carl Rollyson, 'The White Negro: Superficial Reflections on the Hipster' ran in Dissent in the fall 1957 issue. But Mr. Mailer did write some amazing stuff for Esquire, including his 1960 Democratic Convention dispatch 'Superman Comes to the Supermarket' (even though the editors changed his title to 'Supermart' in the magazine).

“Magazines have to become more magaziney rather than less magaziney,” said Mr. Granger back then. “There are things you can do with your cover where the paper will actually fold into different shapes—this cool experience that will let you do novel editorial things, but it’s all very expensive.”

But he likely already had in mind something far more elaborate than an origami cover—like, a flashing, battery-operated cover!

The Times' Tim Arango writes today that Esquire will have an electronic cover for its September issue that will flash the words, “the 21st Century Begins Now."

It won't come cheap. Arango writes:

Perhaps Esquire wouldn't allow it to be photographed, but for so much talk of the 21st century there are no images or videos of a mock-up.

Mr. Granger also said: “I hope it will be in the Smithsonian."

A little soon to banish this magazine to the reliquary!

On the other hand, maybe tiny batteries and flashing lights belong there already, as relics of the 20th?