Monday, December 10th

David Remnick wears his Seven jeans to The New Yorker’s holiday party at Hill Country, described recently in the magazine’s own pages as “a barbecue palace [filled] with hungry New Yorkers, mostly young men in baseball caps and khaki pants, who were acting like homesick Texans: getting boisterously drunk on Lone Star, the ‘National Beer of Texas.’” No word yet if there’s a mechanical bull and, if so, if Bill Buford will ride it. Meanwhile, Malcolm Gladwell—who owes his career to the magazine—blithely blows off the party to show his massive hair to the audience at the 92nd Street Y. And if you’ve never seen women who have eaten nothing but Twizzlers and Altoids for the past 10 years drink hard liquor and sing karaoke, well, you simply have not lived: the lithe ladies of W do all that—and more!—at highbrow East Village cocktail bar Death & Co. And if all of this is just making you confused, it may mean you’re the target audience for the Glenn Close-hosted Red Hot Holiday Stomp at Lincoln Center, a live PBS broadcast featuring Pulitzer Prize-winning trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, who told us: “For the past four years, at Jazz at Lincoln Center’s holiday concerts, we’ve added some swing to the traditional tunes, ‘Jingle Bells’ and ‘Silent Night’.

[The New Yorker Holiday Party, Hill Country, 30 West 26th Street; W holiday party, Death & Co., 433 East Sixth Street; Red Hot Holiday Stomp, PBS, 8 p.m.]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  Monday, December 10th