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Last night we headed up to the Four Seasons restaurant to crash the book party of Gawker's very own book of the month, Holly Peterson's The Manny. Strangely, we weren't allowed in! Two young PR girls manning the table in the lobby said, "Sorrrrrry, no press allowed." Outside we kept company with a gruff CNBC TV crew and a 19-year-old intern from Dealbreaker. But then, as if conjured by our own desire, Candace Bushnell stepped outside, just like a lady of the lake. Soon she was joined by wealthy womyn authors going home to relieve their domestics. There was Carole Radziwill, her thrilling stuff nearly escaping a very lowcut tanktop, and Tatiana Boncompagni Hoover, and art dealing queen Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn, bunched under the awning, smoking Parliaments. (The cigarette of Jackie O!) There were a couple of questions we needed answered and, happily, the open bar upstairs made the ladies eager to talk.

Did any of them need a Manny? Jeanne Greenberg has two kids and two French au pairs. (Hey, she's running a multimillion dollar business.) "I wouldn't exactly call them gamines," she said. "One we call Crazy Head." Tatiana refused our offer but did furnish us with her rose-colored business card. (We'll call you!)

Okay, so who was there? "Diane Sawyer is in there. Rick Stengel, Liz Smith," said Candace. Just then Page Six's Paula Froelich came out yelling, "Candace! You dragged us out here. Now we need to find a cab!" We made that "call us" sign with our hand to Candace and too soon we were alone with the banished television crew and intern. Soon, we met Michael Idov, New York magazine's contributing editor, coming out of the party. On the inside, the real manny was there, and so was Harvey Weinstein.

Liz Smith, Paula Froelich, Michael Idov. For a no-press party, it sounded like a press club dinner in there.