BlogHer 07: Exclusive Details of the Swagtroversy Revealed! With Pictures!
Rumors are swirling right now among the BlogHer set about a certain event in which certain swag bags were cruelly snatched away from certain bloggers we all know and love. Well, I happened to be there– and as I watch gossip about the event swell into a veritable firestorm of swagtroversy, I can no longer remain silent. I feel compelled to tell you that the situation was not as bad as you might have heard.
It was worse.
Rather than tell you which magazine sponsored the event, I’m going to keep things Real Simple and leave that part out of my tale. I mean, I’m sure some of the people who work there are real nice. Unfortunately, they must’ve all taken a cigarette break when we arrived, because we only encountered the Real Simple ones.
Of course, it all started innocently enough. When we got to the party, we were greeted with a warm welcome by several of the magazine’s lackeys. No invitation? No name tag? No problem! Come on in! Half the guest list didn’t show, anyway! Care for some dinner? How about a glass of wine? Sit down and take a load off!
As Y and Lena eagerly dug into a plate of salmon and filet mignon, Kim and I got drinks at the bar. I managed to win the forlorn-looking bartender’s loyalty after hearing him sing, “Footloose, footloose,” softly to himself while pouring my drink. “Kick off your Sunday shoes,” I sang back as he handed me my drink. Judging by the look on his face, it was the most fun he’d had all night. “Get your next drink quickly,” he whispered. “The bar is closing in 30 minutes.”
“Okay, I’ll chug this one,” I whispered back.
We had only been there for a few minutes when we noticed a subtle change in our hostesses’ demeanor. They began whispering among themselves and frowning and, and… pointing at us. Jessica joined Kim and me at our table. “It’s not you, it’s us,” I told Jessica as we peered nervously around at the snippy little faces that were crankily eyeing us. “We just heard about this party from friends. We didn’t actually get an invitation.”
“Neither did I,” she confessed. We giggled.
Once dinner was over, Y and Lena joined us at our table and the staring from around the room intensified. I felt the hair on the backs of my arms stand up and tried to figure out why our nifty new magazine friends had turned on us. I surreptitiously sniffed my armpits, checked for food between my teeth, but came up empty. Meanwhile, a magazine representative stepped up to the podium in front of the room and began talking as Lena and Y whispered nervously to each other in the back of the room. One of the party planners kept whipping around and glaring at them, but they didn’t seem to notice. Finally, she got up and strode over to our table angrily.
“You are free to take your conversation outside!” she hissed.
“No thank you,” Lena said quietly. “We’ll stay.”
Oh dear. The mag’s party girls had gotten out their fighting gloves and were no longer even pretending to be nice. What had begun as a real casual, Real Simple mixer had officially morphed into a Very Awkward Moment. Part of me wanted to flee, but the blogger in me saw some potential in what might happen next. I stayed put and tried to blend in with the woodwork.
As soon as the speaker had finished, the mag minions practically flew for the front room, which held a table full of swag bags. They handed out one to every guest except us, singeing my eyebrows with a few well-placed deathstares in the process before tottering into the back room with the rest of the bags. I wanted to weep a little; those bags had $25 iTunes cards in them and Lord knows I love me some iTunes. Still, I had managed to snatch up a fun little patent leather purse organizer when I came in, so the night wasn’t a total loss.
“Why did they invite us to come in if they didn’t want us here?” Y said. “They could have told us when we arrived that it was only for guests with invitations! How were we to know?” In fact, one of the many guests who were no-shows later told us that the invitation clearly said to bring friends and indeed, we knew nearly everyone in the room.
“Worst. Party crash. Ever.” I said sadly after fielding a particularly venomous gaze from what looked like an assistant to the assistant’s assistant editor. The others agreed. There was only one thing we could do. “Let’s get pictures!” I shrieked. At that moment, the megafamous Daring Young Mom walked by, minus the posse that usually surrounded her. I couldn’t let this golden opportunity pass me by.
“Kathryn!” I squealed. “I want a picture with you!” She seemed a little frightened, but agreed. “One, two three! Real Simple!” I yelped eagerly.
Next, we got in a few dozen group shots before deciding it was time to bid our hostesses farewell.
But first, I needed to say goodbye to my friend.
“Can we take these glasses down to the lobby bar?” I asked the bartender, who was watching the goings-on with interest. “Sure,” he replied. “Then fill ‘er up,” I said. He filled my glass to the brim.
Y was standing across the room beside what must have been two magazine interns. “What the fuck!” she heard one of them say before rushing over to the bar. “The bar is closed!” she bellowed to the bartender. He looked at her in confusion. “But we still have five more min—“
“The bar is CLOSED,” she repeated, using hand gestures as if she suspected that he didn’t understand English.
A woman standing beside me sighed in disappointment. She had just asked for a glass of red wine and wouldn’t be getting any. I felt bad; she had just told me that she loved my blog and this was how I repaid her.
“It’s all my fault,” I murmured. “I wasn’t invited.”
“Neither was I,” she said.
And we left. Thank God I had the name ‘Liz Gumbinner’ on my name tag; I’d hate those Simpletons to have my personal information. They’d probably send me like a fifty-year subscription bill or something in retaliation.
Still, I’d say the lesson in all this is Real Simple: When courting mommybloggers, it is best not to piss them off. Because you never know which one of them just might have a million gazillion fiercely loyal readers. And so, dear junior editorettes of the Magazine that Shall Not Be Named, even though you shamefully withheld your swag, I still say we came out on top. After all, while you were whispering curses and clutching your swag bags to your bony chests, we had something far different on our minds…
>Oh CRAP. I get that magazine but that makes me want to cancel the subscription. No pointers on organization are worth treating people like that! WTF????They must be pretty stupid to piss off Internet WRITERS for goodness sake!Damn, I wish Budget Living was still around…
>I so wish now that I had been there, if only to watch the scandal unfold. Holy bad PR move, RS! And I can’t imagine a nicer set of bazongas upon which my name might rest.
>That was hilarious – especially when you told me in person after the party. You have big brass balls, dah-lin’.
>Wow. You can bet I won’t be getting a subscription to THAT magazine.
>Ta.Cky. You know Martha Stewart would never pull that crap.
>i was so busy chatting with stacy & jenijen that i didn’t even notice. how the hell did i miss that?btw, i happened to grab some bags for my table, and i did get the look of death from them. geesh. all they had to do was tell us – in the beginning – that the schwag bags were for invitees only, but we were welcome to stay for the rest. that would have been Real Simple.becky
>Oh dear lord, I wish I’d been there with you. I do love snarking with such people; it’s fun to watch them walk whilst trying to keep the corncob from falling out.Oh, and no subscription for me, either.
>I’m sure we have all done and said things in our younger years for which we are embarrassed. As you explain it, it seems to me that these were inexprienced professionals and immature women.I guess what disappointed me is not the way you guys were treated because you are well-followed writers and publishers, but more that you’re people who (as you rightly identified) were invited into a party with open arms. People just shouldn’t treat other people that way. Period. I agree, the silver lining was the excellent blog fodder. Isabel Alpha Mom
>Well done. Can’t imagine what these PR minionettes thought they were doing. Did they think you weren’t with the conference? Sheesh.
>Simply the best party crash evah. And I even got my purse organized! Who knew Amarosa had fallen to the depths of mag party bouncer. Damn.
>Ok. Im officially sold. I totally missed out on a good time. Way to turn lemons into lemonaide!
>What magazine are you talking about? Kidding. I’m kidding.They sound like the dumbest PR people EVER. Way to piss off your target market.Budget Living was a far superior magazine anyway.
>Isabel (and everyone else), I hope I didn’t imply that we should have gotten in to the party because of who we are- That’s not what I meant at all (the whole notion is laughable to me anyway, because who we are is a bunch of stay at home moms and we’re not exactly accustomed to demanding preferential treatment). Our whole gripe was, like yours, that they shouldn’t have invited us in in the first place if they didn’t want us there.I couldn’t resist adding, however, that they treated the wrong mommyblogger like scum and I specifically mentioned Y because she’s so adored up and down the Internet, irrespective of traffic (and with good reason- I can tell you she’s the same warm, kind hand holder in real life that she appears to be on the web). I’m pretty sure that if RS had known about her and her following, they would have been falling all over themselves to be nice to her. Which made the whole situation even funnier.
>Wow, this is a great story! I am ashamed to say that I know that type very well, having been in that industry BC – before child. That particular magazine is notorious for their attitude. I decided to hate them when I read their August 2003 article “20 Time Wasting Rules to Break Now” and breastfeeding was one of them. Now, I don’t really care what you do, bottle or breast, but it’s sure not a waste of time!They are jerks, in my opinion. People deserve respect, and treating your target audience like that is just stupid.
>File this under “how not to build goodwill”.I do agree with Isabel that these were probably PR underlings with no clue, so you have the satisfaction of knowing that they will likely soon be out of a job.
>Awesome! I totally want to be like you when I grow up:) LOL!
>Wow, that’s pretty terrible. I saw the signs for the party in the W, but perhaps thought it was independent of the conference. Wow, I’m a complete loser 🙂 I didn’t get invited to that party as well, although the Imperfect Parent soiree was the highlight for me!!Cheers, Felicia
>Bwah, ha, ha.I actually hadn’t heard about this particular debacle yet.Glad I read it here. Talk about horrible PR!Great pictures though. 😉
>WOW!!! I knew that it was Real Simpl(y) a crappy magazine to begin with, but with bad manners and swearing too?!?! Martha would be ashamed that they acted like that in public, and burn them with lit cigarette ashes for sure. But the story is priceless, and I can’t wait to forward this link on to all of my friends.
>They are idiots! Talk about pissing off their target audience.
>OMG! We almost crashed, too. Laura (conQueso) had invited Jenny who had invited us…but then by the time we were planning on going it had all turned to, well, THIS. They shouldn’t have invited everyone in and then suddenly turned on you all. Ouch. Bad decisions, RS.
>What a bunch of f*cktards.
>Wow, I won’t be buying that magazine. It’s Real Simple, don’t hire people who portray your product in such a rude manner and people will be more inclined to buy your product. I didn’t read that article about time-saving on breastfeeding (as I’m not a subscriber)…yet another reason not to buy. I’ll certainly tell my mother not to renew though. Thanks to you and your readers for the information.
>Catherine, your comment just popped up while I was writing and you made me laugh out loud.
>Just hilarious.
>Oh man, I miss all the good stuff. My roommate got an invitation and e-mailed them to see if they could invite me too. Several days later, I got an invite. We showed up early and scarfed all of their amazing appetizers (way better than the dinner itself). I saw you guys get there, but missed the drama, I had no idea!
>I love it! Way to crash a party 🙂
>At least someone broke the wine glass they took in defiance of the bad attitude. I was just waiting for them ask us to leave. Now THAT would have been the best brawl EVAH!I actually had someone grab a bag for me and stare down the nasty woman daring her to grab it back. Hilarious! She scared the tiny PR woman! I laughed right in her face over her fear. Most excellent.Though I did almost ask the nasty BAR IS CLOSED woman to bring it. Nasty little minion.
>I’ll keep my comment Real Simple. That’s one magazine I’ll never buy again.
>Wow. I mean, WOW. That’s ridiculous. And do be totally honest, I don’t even really see what it is that you did wrong. What jerks.
>Oh no. There is this Real Simple little magazine that I really enjoy getting. Now, how will I enjoy it? I think I must find a new not quite so simple magazine now.Anyhoo, I think you really look like Anne Hathaway.
>Suuuuuh-WEET partay crash!I have a subscription to this mag (one of those fundraising things for a neighbor’s kid). Frankly I don’t read it much; it’s pretty…oh, I dunno…simple.Now I’m wondering – should I cancel it?
>Disastrous. I chatted with Y about this debacle yesterday, and I’ll email you directly about a few ideas…It was lovely to meet you and lunch with you! Definitely looking forward to a stinky cheese happy ending BlogHer post though.
>Oh COME ON! which magazine was it? spill! come ON!(heh).Yeah. It’s Real Simple. pissing off MBs is a Bad Thing.(dumbasses)Love your story-telling, L.p.s. my pump misses you;-)
>Wow .. the childish behavior of some women never ceases to amaze me. And I’m not talkin’ about you … just to be clear!
>Something tells me they’ll have some ‘splaining to do when they get back to the office! (Or today, when this link is forwarded to all the RS Powers That Be.) Holy Way To Piss Off The Internets! Y’all rawk.
>Incredible. I’ve figured it out. It’s Real Simple. One of you must have stepped in front of the big boss at the bar of something… pissed her off and subsequently her possy was unleashed and sent to get all up in your grill. Frankly, I like when things are more complicated, so I won’t be keeping it simple and buying any magazines!
>It’s a great story — even though I really don’t know what magazine you’re talking about. (I’m pretty simple myself.)It sounds, though, like a good time was had by most… and speaking as a Chicago taxpayer, I’m glad for that….
>This confirms all of my suspicions about Real Simple! I am a subscriber but I have decided not to renew. That magazine is TOO MUCH like HARD WORK–it says “real simple” but then it gives you all this new shit to do.I always suspected they were bitches at heart. Well done Lindsay for cracking the code!
>You needed me there. A real Redneck. I would have gotten your schwag bags and that poor ladies red wine for her.I’m impervious to bitchy attitudes and bullet proof to frosty stares. I think it’s because I’m socially inept.Wink, wink.I’m amazed by the twits who snubbed y’all, but I’m LOVING your deets of the battle.I’d totally grab your boob right now if we were close to each other.
>Okay – once more and without all the typos:OMG…you had me at, “clutching the swags to their bony chests…” rolling on the floor and, well, you know!
>Wow! I was invited by a friend, but passed on that one. I’m sorry I did, now. Have to run now and cancel subscription.
>Good Lord, WHAT was their PROBLEM?(um…you have hair on the back of your arms?)
>OMG! That i spossibly the funniest story ever! Didn’t those people realize that you don’t mess with bloggin’ mom….seriously…
>She DID have a bony chest, didn’t she? The way she hissed at us, you could just tell she had been practicing that in the mirror. WITH HAND GESTURES.
>”but the blogger in me saw some potential in what might happen next.” Hilarious.I always hated that magazine just on its pretense – I mean, you need a publication to tell you how to simplify your life? Here’s a clue: get one less magazine subscription.
>Aw, you’re just beautiful, in body and word.
>My wife reads it but they sounded really snotty. Where you too loud or what?
>As one who didn’t get an invite, didn’t know about the party, nor didn’t hear about the debacle until just now, I have to say that the whole thing was Simply incredibly poor taste to begin with. It’s like having a birthday party and making sure half the class that WASN’T invited knows they have been snubbed.Even if they gave schwag to everyone in the room, word would have eventually gotten out that this magazine was playing favorites. Which is equally bad PR given the Simple situation that even Dear Abby can tell you to be sure to either invite the whole class or be friggin discreet. Duh.
>YOU GO GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!
>What the hell…I miss all the fun! I would have so taken me some schwag…What would they have done anyway? Wrestle you to the floor. Yep, my Real Simple has become Real Easy…It’s done!Great Post!
>No way! Dang, I missed all the excitement. Next year, I’m party crashin’…
>I can say this now, quite freely: I have never liked that magazine. It always made me feel like I needed to spend a lot of money to simplify my cluttered existence.Here’s to clutter! And part-ay crashing!
>Love it. Had I been there, I would have taken a swag bag anyway, running out of the room as I stole it, if need be. Then again, I loves me some free stuff.Great story, and you’ve now made my decision to ever read that magazine or not Real Simple. Don’t piss off bloggers, baby – we band together.
>You’ll love this then. While I was waiting for a friend to go into the AOL Body life coaching luncheon from hell, two bony looking girls came up to the AOL woman and asked if they could attend. They were told that they hadn’t registered, and so no, they could not attend. They whined at her that they were from Real Simple, you know, the magazine, and could they please attend?She left them standing there to “go see what she could do.” I don’t know if they got in or not, but of course I’m hoping they were DE-nied.And EDW, are you serious? “I decided to hate them when I read their August 2003 article “20 Time Wasting Rules to Break Now” and breastfeeding was one of them.”That is so unbelievable!
>Holy Boycott Batman! No one snubbs mah-blogfriends and gets away with it! To the blogmobile!I shall write with snarkyness and make mah readers aware!(BTW I’ve had too much double-shot-latte for my own good this mornin’!)
>That’s crazy! I semi-crashed a mommyblogger-oriented party the first evening and nobody blinked an eye, even when people asked, “How many kids do you have,” and I was forced to reply honestly, “None.”
>hmmm…i too crashed that party and assumed you (and company) were honored guests. feeling particularly guilty about the $25 itunes gift certificate at this moment and slightly sorry for RS–i think they didn’t have any idea how to navigate the blogging world which is essentially an “everyone is invited, every party, everyday” kind of affair.
>Okay. The best part of this is I had no earthly idea what was going on. I was just happy to see all of you there. I guess I was just oblivious in my “mega-famousness.” I hope we’re still BFF. I’ll use up my iTunes gift card quickly so it won’t come between us, as long as you go back and photoshop a few of my chins out of that picture.
>yes, me too, loves the Y just for who she is.
>I, too, crashed the party. So far, I haven’t been able to figure out who was invited (and why). Everyone I talk to was crashing! I approached cautiously, but was welcomed with open arms and ushered into dinner. Before I knew it I had dinner and a glass of Pinot Noir. The same woman who greeted me so warmly then skipped right past me when handing out the schwag bags. When I asked if they were all gone, she coldly replied, “Yes.” And as I was leaving, I heard the gaggle of them gossiping: “I told those crashers that the bar was CLOSED!” Clearly it was an evening of mixed signals
>The Jerkies.
>But, your face when she started coming toward us was ALMOST as good as those mashed potatoes.Almost.
>So after reading this, I laughed so hard today when I saw Dooce’s post about being published in this magazine.
>oh wow, why has it taken so long for me to see this?your blogher wrap-up was dead on. I didn’t experience any negative blogher-on-blogher action personally, but I would hazard that, as in the rest of life, 99% of perceived slights are misperceptions. maybe that’s even more true at an event like this, where our personal lives and identity are so much of part of our “product”. Our hearts are on our sleeves moreso than a convention of say, widget manufacturers.I was talking to you at the bar when they cut us off and the whole vibe changed from “come on in!” to who the hell are you? Our party of interlopers was enthusiastically handed pocketbooks when we came in, and I thought the gift bags fell under the same category. I also thought they would be more of the same old junk, a small mountain of which I left on my hotel bed. But I grabbed one in a manner that my mama would not have approved of. What can I say? The atmosphere in the room brought out the rebel in me. Pomposity generaly does.When Lady Guillotine came and cut us off at the bar, I realized we really had crashed where we weren’t welcome, and I left the bag behind on the sofa, I was so put off and embarrassed. Sucks to your gift bag :)Actually, Lindsay, I thought you were one of the sanctioned invitees, and I was too abashed about the whole thing to really talk to you afterwards. My bad. See earlier comment about misperceptions. As for the hosts ( I just signed an exclusivity contract that forbids me from pitching anything to them for a year, so I guess I won’t worry about alienating them), I think they are still unclear what this new-fangled “blogging” is all about. I wrote them six months ago, suggesting that a feature on blogging as the new journalling would be right up their alley, citing a number of beautifully designed and written momblogs they could showcase. It didn’t even warrant an autoreply. You and I both know what they would say in our part of the world about their kind:bless their hearts. 😉 I hope you will let me buy you that glass of wine next chance we get. I also had the feeling I was in the wrong place during the Branding session. Just keep telling your stories.xo
>OMG, that was so unnecessarily long-winded. delete or edit at will.
>I used to be in PR and we would do these restaurant openings. The PR firm owner would make me kick people out that were obviously using someone else’s invitation (like an editor’s mom). I HATED it. I can clearly imagine the bitchy lameness of the Real Simple event. Glad you didn’t let it get you down.
>What hosers, indeed. That story is equal parts ridiculous and awesomeness. (Real Simple? Ridiculous. You guys? Awesome.)
[…] And we crashed a party. […]