At Lewis Lapham's Party, Tom Wolfe Blushes, Ladies Swoon and Stagger

Last night, in in a townhouse near the Flatiron building, the very young editors of Lapham's Quarterly were embarrassed. They were aged 23, 24 and 28, and, by coincidence, they all wore the same H&M suit: dark, pinstriped and under $200. Each wore a red tie.

"We did it and didn't realize it," said Elias Altman, the 23-year-old, who is the back-page editor and has the baby face of a choir boy. "We thought maybe we should do a song and dance."

To diffuse the situation, there was a suggestion Media Mob talk to Lewis Lapham, the quarterly's editor. Mr. Lapham, what do you think of the crowd?

"It's a mosaic," the editor of this throwback magazine said of the crowd. The mosaic included Harvey Weinstein, Richard Dreyfuss and even Tom Wolfe.

Earlier in the night, mistress of ceremonies Brooke Geahan had described Mr. Wolfe as a "literary cream in the pants."

Mr. Wolfe, when he heard the comment, shuffled into the corner and pretended not to hear it, but some blushing admirers told him about it and he played along.

Also, while Richard Dreyfuss was reading an Ayn Rand story, a woman in her early 50s passed out.

"Oh yeah, it was a big commotion, she just passed out!" said Christopher Bollen, the new editor of Interview. "Right in the middle of the speech!"

Nonetheless, Mr. Dreyfuss' speech lasted longer than Graydon Carter's.

Ms. Geahan explained Mr. Carter had to speak first, at about 8:30, because he had a dinner engagement. When Media Mob tried to ask where he was going, he rushed out the door and was ushered by a lithe boy wearing skinny jeans and a clipboard, knocking him straight out of the building.

Anyway, back to Mr. Bollen, who had his first day as editor in chief of Interview yesterday. "I moved into Glenn's office and he took down a Richard Prince painting and there are all these hooks!" he said. "I need to find some young artists who can fill the space."

A few young women fell down drunkenly near him, and he had to excuse himself. Nearby, David Margolick looked a bit lonely. "I don't know most people here," he said, scanning the audience, half old, half young and fashionable. "Do the people here even read magazines?"