Champagne at The Algonquin

L-R Beverly, Jane Frosh Stylist Some slag in a sequined top, Styling You, A Beach Cottage, Hair Romance and the delectable Blog Stylist.

My latest New York theory is that Americans do not mind lining up. Queuing, if you will. I suspect that if I stood on the sidewalk for more than a minute in Manhattan and then turned around, there may, just may, be several individuals standing behind me patiently. Waiting. For whatever…………

I believe this… but was yet still surprised to see the largest snaking queue formed last night to get into one of the Blogher Parties. I grabbed some Aussies and made a suggestion that we hightail it out of there and head…….. to………….


Historically speaking, The Algonquin is the literary centre of New York.


After World War I, Vanity Fair writers and Algonquin regulars Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley, and Robert E. Sherwood began lunching at The Algonquin. In 1919, they gathered in the Rose Room with some literary friends to welcome back acerbic critic Alexander Woollcott from his service as a war correspondent. It proved so enjoyable that someone suggested it become a daily event. This led to a daily exchange of ideas, opinions, and often-savage wit that has enriched the world’s literary life. George S. Kaufman, Heywood Broun, and Edna Ferber were also in this August assembly, which strongly influenced writers like F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. Perhaps their greatest contribution was the founding of The New Yorker magazine, which today is free to guests of the hotel.

As I sat there, I felt the ghosts of groundbreaking writers around me. It was beautiful. We drank champagne and talked about writing. It was like a cosmic explosion of all my favourite things.

The Algonquin is not only famous for being a haven for writers, it is also famous for it’s cat. The Algonquin Cat. Let me explain.


This is Matilda. She is the Algonquin Cat. There has been an Algonquin Cat ever since 1930, when a stray wandered into the hotel looking for a feed. It stayed and started the tradition.

Matilda was in residence last night, asleep under the the concierge desk. She has the run of the hotel and is a big time celebrity here in New York. She is very fancy, and has her own Facebook Page – check it out here.

She made me miss Chuy. And Mr Woog. Oh and the kids. Yesterday I became an aunty again to my new niece Ella,  and I am feeling a long way from home right now.

Plus Jack was voted in as the SRC representative and would be show ponying that up all over the place, and I am missing the jazz handed prancing about with the new badge drama that would be occurring.

But with only a day left here I am going to squeeze every second out of this town. Starting with a talk about to be delivered by Katie Couric.

What……? It is New York! She is out to impress you.


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