Fancy New York City glossy Vanity Fair has a new profile of Washington’s Premier Hostess & Greatest Newspaper Writer, Sally Quinn, describing the turmoil this gal went through when her husband’s newspaper, The Washington Post, decided to end her insane print column, “The Party,” after she had used her space one week to describe a personal, social scheduling conflict of hers, and nothing else. How did Sally Quinn, Queen and Spokeswoman of the Washington Premier Socialite Village Lawn Party Country Club, ever survive this episode? With her magical minotaur powers, of course! Did you know that Sally Quinn is a *minotaur*?

Still quite the looker at 68, pulled together in gray wool pants and a lavender cardigan, Sally is ensconced in one of the many sitting areas of her stately Georgetown town house as she sets the record straight. First, she would like to clarify that she wasn’t canned; the “Party” column had been intended only as a holiday-season offshoot of her On Faith Web site, and she’d started phasing it out anyway. Second, she feels no need to apologize. After the firestorm, she entered the concrete meditation labyrinth her husband had built for her on their country estate in St. Mary’s County, Maryland, to think. When she came out the other side, she was clear. “I did exactly the right thing,” she says. The story of the “dueling” weddings had been out there, she explains, prompting all kinds of nasty online comments about her son and his bride-to-be. “I wrote that piece to protect them… If somebody goes after my kids, look out.”


[Vanity Fair]

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  1. I’m so relieved the burdens of the fourth estate are in such capable and responsible hands.

    That is her fourth estate, right? St. Mary’s, The Berkshires, Nags Head, Napa, Georgetown… fifth? Oh, fifth. Right, whatever.

  2. God, how old is that picture? And is that really HER hand, or someone else’s ‘shopped in? Looks too diminutive, even for a minotaur, and the angle is wrong.

    Think I’m being cruel? Maybe, but turn-a-meow is fair play, Sally Dearest.

  3. Most regular folk type people, when confronted with an unpleasant family brouhaha and the need to defend our chillins ‘gainst scurrilous family gossip go wander through a Starbucks and emerge with a scathing Christmas letter which we send only to the people involved. But no, Sally, you’re totally right…you are just like us. You did what any of us would have done, if we had access to a national newspaper.

  4. [re=589200]Mild Midwesterner[/re]:If Sally Q had gotten hold of some of the Snowbilly Grifter’s Extreme Greenies she would not have had any difficulty attending multiple weddings in a single day.

  5. “Still quite the looker at 68”

    So the profile lies with the very first clause; that doesn’t make me want to read the whole thing. But I guess it fits for someone who writes about lies (AKA faith) for a living.

    Meanwhile, the mainstream media continues to spend most of its time staring at its own navel and yet somehow wonders why no one buys their papers/magazines anymore.

  6. And her kids, I’m sure, have given her a hearty “Thanks, Mom!” for her bang-up job “protecting” them! Instead of a bit of gossip and a few nasty online comments (is there any other kind?) she broadcast it to the nation at large and made everyone involved a laughingstock. Yes, I’m sure a mama grizzly would just be quaking in her half-ton fur at that kind of maternal instinct.

  7. “stately Georgetown town house”

    I don’t think she’s a minotaur. I think she’s Batman. Stately Georgetown town house, stately Wayne Manor. Have you ever seen Sally and Batman together? Have you ever seen her with Bruce Wayne, for that matter? This woman is leading a double life.

  8. Don’t the nimrods at this “Vanity Fair” thing have anything better to write about? Gawd sheesh almighty, who the hell cares?

    Now, if it was an article about the great newspaper editor BEN BRADLEE, many of us would care–he is one of the greats of modern-day journalism, and he helped bring down the evil demon Nixon and his evil demon cronies.

    So, Vanity Fair people–how about a non-gossipy, news-oriented, straight-ahead feature story on BEN BRADLEE, based on interviews with him–and him only–conducted today, in 2010?

    THAT would be something worth reading.

  9. [re=589209]populucious[/re]: Nah, most regular folks settle such disputes by getting wasted at Thanksgiving and whacking your aunt over the head with a turkey drumstick.

  10. If you find yourself thinking “how could making a public ass out of yourself and your family over a ‘story out here’ that literally no one cared about possibly be ‘the right thing’ to do?” just keep in mind that minotaurs are not the sharpest mythical hellbeasts around, even those whose labyrinths are optimized for meditation.

  11. Good grief. I just read her column about the two weddings. It was agreed that she and her husband would not attend his granddaughter’s wedding? There’s some kind of drama that stops him from attending his granddaughter’s wedding? Then their son gets his girlfriend knocked up (uh, there are ways to prevent this from happening now, you know) and they have to rush the wedding and the ONLY day in the whole year is the date of the granddaughter’s wedding and now the whole family is p.o’d.

    I think that’s a fair summary.

    The Bradlees sound like the Clampetts, I swear. Sally is the very person you want to listen to on matters of faith and manners.

  12. I dunno, but her face looks like its gotten the Phyllis Diller treatment a few times. Kinda looks like her nipples are probably on her shoulders by now, due to all the stretching stuff.

  13. She’s a sconce?

    I wonder if she’s wainscotted, too?

    Perhaps there’s a balustrade in there, with a great deal of crenelation appropriate for someone “pulled together” inside wool pants.

    I would like to know with what levers and fulcrums and by which angle of force the pulling is done.

    Is Vanity Fair writing simply a synonym for “hack imitation of something one supposes one read in a previous incarnation at the Club when one was snuck in as a member’s joy boy?” “Ensconced” indeed.

  14. An article about married-to-Ben-Bradlee, written by daughter-of-Israeli-flotilla-admiral-Marty-Peretz.

    That’s D.C. for you; ground zero of American meritocracy . . .

  15. She was on Morning Joe last week, with Ben in tow. Ben must be senile now, because she answered every question for him and he barely got a word in. The stories Ben could have told about Jack Kennedy, but is now too far around the bend. Sad.

  16. When she came out the other side, she was clear. “I did exactly the right thing,” she says.

    That’s my kind of meditation bunker!

  17. [re=589262]Naked Bunny with a Whip[/re]: My guess is that Madoff wakes up in his “meditation cell” every morning with roughly the same thought.

    These people make the characters on Gossip Girl like mature decision-makers.

  18. What a shame they did not throw away the key to the concrete meditation labyrinth. Juli left us for this paragon of journamalism? Jim will soon be led by Sally through the Quinn concrete meditation labyrinth for a Gawker exclusive!

  19. HEY JIM NEWELL! Happy last day and all that, make sure to take a dump in the office sink, etc.

    We would like to give you these “prizes” of which you spoke on the Tweeter. How about a Paypal link, eh?

  20. “I [exposed them in public] to protect them… If somebody goes after my kids, look out.”

    She needed to retreat to the Bat-Maze to come up with that? Palin can do it better before she’s even had her morning coffee and Botox.

  21. Ah, yes! Hampton Roads, 1862. The C.S.S. Virginia, having the previous day destroyed or damaged several Federal warships, prepares to resume its history-making effort to break the Union blockcade. Suddenly, from out of the distance, a low-slung craft appears. Could it be? It is! The U.S.S. Minotaur (S. Quinn, Commanding) has come to save the day! Huzzah!!!!

  22. [re=589326]Troubledog[/re]:

    I’m annoyed about that. Sally and Ben should really be over in Virginia, maybe down by Middleburg. Much more their kind of people than those in Southern Maryland. It’s less likely that the Amish, farmers, fishermen, and other middle and working class people would understand about her suffering.

  23. Okay, I’m confused. I clicked on the link to read the original article. She states she was “thrilled” to learn her son’s girlfriend was prego, and that’s what caused the change in dates. So she’s happy her little horndog banged his trollop, but has to get the ring on the finger, complete with all the bells & whistles, before she pops, or even shows? And did the darling trollop wear white, me wonders.

    I guess at the ripe old age of 45, I’m a bit old fashion to believe the sconce of upper society would find pre-martial mattress boogie, or the evidence of said activity, a bit not “thrill”ing.

  24. [re=589708]Mostly_Harmless[/re]: sigh I guess I’ll just have to take the bottom half of the suit to the cleaners then. Hey, Newell! You got a couple extra Ameros I can borrow on the way out? 3 inch shag don’t clean cheap.

  25. Quite the looker at 65=smells of mothballs and eucalyptus, but still technically bangable, though her propensity for hairtrigger orgasm results in total loss of continence, for both parties.

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