For 17 years, award-winning journalist Carson Griffith had a standard answer whenever anyone asked what she covered: “Rich people shit.” Whether she was writing about media moguls or financiers, designers or founders, private clubs in Palm Beach or happenings in the Hamptons, the catch-all seemed to fit. “After all those years, I realized all those stories were connected—stories about money and influence and taste and power and ambition, and mainly cultural capital, which was the term that covered all of them,” she told Vogue.

And so when she decided to launch her Substack newsletter, Rich People Shit, five months ago, the name was already waiting for her. Last week saw an official launch party for the rapidly rising dispatch. “I told myself I was going to do it for two weeks, and if it didn’t work out, I would just quit,” Griffith said. “But I had 1,000 subscribers in less than three days, so I just kept going.” Fast forward to today, the newsletter has more than 10,000 subscribers.

Despite dealing with a heatwave, and a Knicks finals playoff game dominating the city’s attention, some of those avid readers joined Griffith to celebrate at The Manner, a boutique hotel in SoHo. Around 200 people gathered in Sloane’s, the chic upstairs lounge, to sip on Ford’s Gin martinis served from a martini trolley. Cocktails were aptly named Quiet Luxury and First Wife’s Revenge, while a mocktail was called The Blind Trust; named cheekily for the wealth-management strategy. Golden Goat caviar, truffle chips, charcuterie, and chicken nuggets kept guests happily satiated as they grazed near photogenic tablescapes designed by Daniel Soares of Alimentari Flâneur.

Copies of Tiffany Ezuma’s Major Gift, a romance novel involving a billionaire that’s printed by 831 Publishing, were scattered throughout the room and up for grabs. Attendees filmed social media clips between conversations—many ending their videos with a caviar bump. Musician Louis Middleton, who has performed for everyone from Taylor Swift to Jeff Bezos, played piano throughout the evening too.

The dress code leaned business casual—most had come from the office, after all—while some donned obligatory Knicks gear. Griffith herself wore a copper-hued Galvan gown paired with Bottega Veneta accessories: a fateful color choice for the night. “Everyone was saying, ‘You were wearing Knicks orange, what a good idea,’” she laughed.

The room brought together an only-in-New-York mix: restaurateur Mario Carbone and his brand strategist fiancée, Cait Bailey; Sex and the City doyenne Candace Bushnell; Real Housewives of today and yesteryear; political commentators Molly Jong-Fast and Jennifer Welch; plus no shortage of chefs, surgeons, architects, and editors. Yet it was undeniably Griffith’s loyal subscribers—some of whom had flown in specifically for the night—who gave the evening its true spirit. “A lot of parties I go to are very media-centric, and I liked that this one brought people from so many different professions together. There were love connections too, which I was pleasantly surprised to hear. There was networking, new friendships formed, and someone tried caviar for the first time. Those types of things made me really happy,” she said.

The literary parallel felt fitting, though. For decades, New York’s media and publishing worlds have marked milestones with book parties. Increasingly, newsletters are building the same kind of connection and finding equally good reasons to gather in person. “At a certain point, it felt like the newsletter had escaped from my laptop and become a real-world community,” Griffith noted.

Reed Cart, a subscriber who works in private banking who was invited by Griffith, agreed. “A lot of publications write about rich people in a sensationalist way. What’s interesting about Carson, is that she has a good perspective and reports neutrally—because she actually knows these people. It comes across as informative, even on a subject that some might find trivial.”

“In New York, you can actually have the real people you’re aspiring to meet come to an event like this,” Cart reflected. “A lot of people want to pay for access, but the truth is, you can’t actually pay for the kind of access people are really striving for.”

In the meantime? Read it and weep.