The Mirror

How Will Vanity Fair’s Oscar Party Survive Without NBC’s Dylan Byers?

By Shutterstock.

Betsy Rothstein Gossip blogger

Since when does an invitation to an Oscar party — or any party for that matter — mean that the host can’t uninvited you if you behave like a shithead?

Enter the New York Times, which trashed the upcoming Vanity Fair Oscar party and NBC media reporter Dylan Byers, who thinks his standing up for The Gray Lady means anything. The NYT published a hit piece saying the party has lost its luster. “It Was the Hottest Oscar Night Party. What Happened?” the headline blared Thursday. The story with the double byline of Katherine Rosman and Brooks Barnes dragged the party for having so many “brand partners.” In 45 graphs, the reporters wrote that the party used to be something of a “status symbol” and is no longer causing the “hysterical frenzy” it once did.

And what do you think happened next? No, Vanity Fair didn’t roll out the red carpet for NYT reporters and their photog. With dignity, the magazine ripped up their invites. 

I’m not even sure their collective heads would fit through the door at this point.

Byers, who lives in LA, came riding in with his inflated ego on his white horse. He used to smoke a lot of weed. Oh, the wandering. If you don’t know what I’m referring to, watch here.

“So brave,” a Washington reporter wrote regarding Byers’ ridiculous tweet.

“What a pompous ass,” remarked another DC journalist.

Here’s the thing. If you badmouth a party before you show up, why should you expect party throwers to let you in? At least wait until the soirée is over, or do it during if you must. I mean, haven’t we all been left off Tammy Haddad‘s White House Corresopndents’ weekend garden brunch list at some point or another?

I recall a shaggy hair-ed guy in green pants sifting through his roster and saying he couldn’t find my name. Hmmm….I wonder why that was. I had been formally invited by one of the co-hosts. Once inside, a woman with blonde hair pulled me aside and lectured me like a child about what I would write and tried to implement rules regarding my coverage. That year, I enjoyed myself. I got to say hello to Vox‘s Ezra Klein. I met CNN’s Brian Stelter in the flesh (not too exciting). A party-goer grabbed my goblet of mimosa and downed the whole thing in one gulp (yes, rude). So-called Washington socialites trying to control me was so irritating that the next year I didn’t mind writing a story bashing her party after it fell into my lap. I wrote about how Haddad behaved like a mob boss with her invites. Many Washington insiders who actually wanted to come and donate to her fucking charity were coldly left off the list.

But I wrote it and published it as it was happening, not before, you idiots. And I never expected to receive an invitation to the ghoulish garden brunch after I wrote that. At the time, my then-boss, whom you could hardly call an editor, wasn’t too pleased with my story. You see, he had worked with her at MSNBC and God forbid you upset a woman with a gray stripe in her hair who hosts an annual garden brunch during Nerd Prom.

“It used to be a special insider event,” Marty Kaplan, an entertainment prof at the University of Southern California told the NYT of the Vanity Fair Oscar party. “Now it’s a week-long corporate branding-palooza.”

Ugh. Doesn’t all this make you antsy for this year’s White House Correspondents’ Dinner?