There were two possible explanations for the high head count at the first- anniversary party Spy magazine tossed for itself at its downtown Manhattan office building a few weeks back: an open bar and fear. Show up, smile, and stay on Spy's sunny side, and maybe you won't appear in some future issue, pinned down photographically on the "Party Poop" page and identified, with the magazine's characteristic cheekiness, as a "mummified boulevardier" or "beaver-faced mogul."
Since its debut issue last October, Spy has honed its unique editorial combination of good humor and bad manners into an upscale switchblade that has nearly...