We magazine people cringe when we hear about last magazines. We’ve mourned more than a few of our brethren in this paper-pulping recession. And yes, those of us still standing may seem like insensitive pricks when it comes to accepting our Fashion Week invites and partying it up with supermodels wearing a T-shirt worth more than your rent, especially when our folded friends are hanging out at that big newsstand in the sky. But we’ve made concessions as well! For instance, last night we rode the subway to Studio 385 to toast the end of fashion week with The Last Magazine, as an homage to all of those economically challenged last issues out there.

Granted it was The Last Magazine's celebratory launch of their second issue, which, unless you're a resentful out-of-work editor, is certainly reason enough to celebrate. And yes, it’s not like we’re celebrating the end of Fashion Week for, like, ever. The rumor is they come around twice a year (which is about the same timing as Men’s Vogue, or so we hear). And maybe hostess Natasha Poly was dressed to the nines in some seriously expensive get-up, and we did share some pretty fancy complimentary cocktails with the likes of Alexander Wang, Michael Stipe, former Hilton honey Stavros Niarchos, Zoe Kravitz, and even the frivolously famous Cory Kennedy. But we did so with reverence to those lost glossies out there. Let this party post act as a somber reminder to all of those fashion editors complaining about their overbooked FW schedules -- one day you could be celebrating your very last magazine, and gone will be the days of fancy cardboard Fashion Week invites, photo ops with Lindsay Lohan at Charlotte Ronson, and all of those rezzies at the Waverly Inn. The future may be full of hard knox for us ink-pushers, but that's even more reason to celebrate (drink to) our successes.