“Finally she came into our office in tears and said, âYou don't understand what this is costing me. You don't understand what you're asking me to do, which is go and look for prejudice, which I live with every single day,'” says Kate Tentler, the magazine's final managing editor. “And we were like, âOh, fuck. Look what we're doing, we're just completely participating in this.'”
They told Diane to write about just that: about how her PC-spouting, injustice-fighting, liberal-minded editors were better at talking the talk than they were at being racially sensitive to the black people in their lives. Her resulting story, “With Friends Like These,” chronicles the way an African American experiences ingrained prejudice at the hands of her supposed friends and colleagues.
Sassy
readers were mostly sympathetic. One wrote in to say, “Your story made me cry”; another said, “As an African-American reader, I understand exactly where you're coming from.”
“I don't want to speak for Diane at all in this respect, but I did feel like it changed her feelings about being there,” says Kate. “You live a lifetime of having to deal with this crap and then you think you're in a place where you're going to be safe and it clamps down on you again and it's just like, whoa. And particularly because
Sassy
's MO was that it was an encouraging, accepting, inclusive place.” (Diane was the only
Sassy
staff member who wouldn't speak on the record for this book.)
Editors and writers were fighting one another, and the only thing they were really bonded by was a shared venom toward their so-called leader. “It was like the magazine kept sinking, but things kept getting better and better for Jane,” says Mike. Jane's fame continued to rise despite the fact that she had little involvement in the daily operations in the magazine that made her famous and her main projectâthe talk showâwas a critical disappointment. Even the business staff was sick of the young, mediagenic editrix who had once brought them so much attention. “I have enjoyed working with Jane, but she hasn't been able to demonstrate a clear vision for this magazine,” Cohen wrote in a memo to Lang.
If
Sassy
wasn't losing staff to burnout and boredom, they were losing them to larger publishers like Condé Nast. “I used to say to Si Newhouse [the company's chairman], âI'm running a farm system for you over here. Every time we develop somebody into a talent you pick them off,'” says Lang. “And it wasn't just the money they were after. It was the great Condé Nast limousines, and all the perks.” As the core staff began to turn over, finding new writers who could write in the
Sassy
voice without imitating any of its existing writers was difficult. “After
Sassy
had been out for a little while, people would come to work thereâwriters in particularâwho had been reading
Sassy
and were trying to adopt the voice. That's never what I wanted. I just wanted them to write in their own, genuine voices. I can't tell you how many people would write in a style that was a parody of Christina Kelly, a not-as-good version of Christina Kelly,” says Jane, who felt that the original three staff writers (Christina, Karen, and Catherine) were the strongest they had. As Mike recalls, “Toward the end, there were pieces that were crap as far as I was concerned. I don't know how exactly it happened, but I think it was maybe the text itself wasn't as sparkling as it had been. And we were pretty beaten down by that point. I don't know if that's an excuse or a reason, but we just were.” Said Cohen, in a memo, “What used to be a fun slumber-party conversation that made everyone feel welcome seemed more like a conversation that would take place in a smoky New York coffeehouse.”
Of course, many readers who came of age during
Sassy
's twilight years vehemently disagree. “Maureen Callahan made me want to keep reading and reading,” says Max Weinberg. Liz Menoji's favorite staffer was Margie, who “wrote like I felt.” Still,
Sassy
's readers were growing up.
Sassy
's initial teen audience was reaching college age and moving on to other magazines, or even to the sharp-tongued zines they had been introduced to in “What Now.” “
Sassy
started to get old, and the
Jane Pratt
show really nailed the coffin shut. It was cooler to buy Franklin Bruno records about Jane than to listen to the
Sassy
house band, Chia Pet. Once the corporate shuffles started, I dropped my subscription and looked elsewhere for reading pleasure,” says Marc Butler, a longtime
Sassy
fan who wrote for the first reader-produced issue. Jessica Nordell was sixteen in 1994 when she started drifting apart from
Sassy
. “I think I was kind of down on
Sassy
. I felt like it was trying too hard. I thought maybe there was
more to life than just wearing thrift-store clothing and tromping around. It was suddenly easier for me to make fun of it, whereas three years before I worshipped it.”
By early 1994, Jane hadn't been a part of daily life at the
Sassy
offices for a few years. “Jane was completely not around,” says Christina. “I remember I was really not happy being the editor, and I went to her and said, âI think I'm going to leave and be a freelance writer,' and she said, âYeah, I think you should.' I was expecting that she'd protest and tell me I had to stay, like she always had, whenever I'd gotten any kind of job offer. It was like she knew that something was being planned, that Dale was going to sell the magazine, so she was off trying to figure out what her next thing was.” Amy remembers Christina and Jane's relationship as especially fraught during those last days. “Jane was not being super straightforward with her, and she'd been with Jane since the beginning. Christina was running the show every day and didn't feel Jane was being honest with herâshe didn't feel she had the insider information. There was extreme tension between them. Everybody felt that. That was no secret.”
Jane maintains that Lang didn't make her privy to any secrets, but she had begun to look elsewhere for a new project nonetheless. “I was hearing from women in their twenties who were saying, âI'm twenty-six, I'm still reading
Sassy
. Come on, let's do something for women my age, there's nothing! There's nothing for
Sassy
readers to graduate to.' I felt like I had done what I wanted to do with
Sassy
. I really wanted to start the next generation,” she says. Lang Communications didn't have the money to develop a new magazine, so in spring of 1994, Jane left for Time, Inc., to start a magazine for twentysomething women. Still, Jane swears, “I would have much preferred to stay and still have some involvement with
Sassy
.” Even though Jane had severed ties with
Sassy
and Lang Communications, it was business as usual in the pages of
Sassy
, with her signing “Diary” each month and still being credited as editor in chief.
Meanwhile, rumors of a sale were escalating and advertisers, thinking the magazine was unstable, were running scared. Lang sent a memo on September 27, 1994, to the
Sassy
staff: “It is with deep regret that I must inform you
Sassy
magazine is being put up for immediate sale ⦠I want all of you to know I've done everything possible to avoid this action.
Sassy
is a potentially great magazine and you are a fine young group of professional magazine people. You both deserve a chance that I can no longer provide.”
It was a long month. Christina immediately demanded an all-staff meeting, at which one of Dale's underlings made an unconvincing bid to assure his employees that they shouldn't worry about job security. Jane made a rare appearance in the office. But instead of calming the nerves of the staff she had, in one way or another, led for the last seven years, Jane announced the launch of her new magazine at Time, Inc.âsix months
after she had gotten the job. “I think she even said, âThere's all these rumors that I'm going to do another magazine. And it's going to be called
Jane
,'” reports Mary. “It was kind of weird.” Christina remembers Jane saying, “When I start it I'm going to hire you all.”
In the meantime, though, the
Sassy
staff was stuck in a limbo of quasi-employment. Management began holding daily meetings to inform the beleaguered employees whether they should show up for work the next day. At one, Lang announced that he was looking for a bidder that would continue
Sassy
's editorial mission and that his goal was to make a seamless transition. Then the staff was told not to complete work on the January 1995 issue, which was to be celebrity-produced (a format Jane would later use at
Jane
), with Liz Phair on the cover.
No one had anything to do, but the staff technically still had jobs, so they would while away their time with projects born of frustration. “We would all come in every morning to see if there was any news. Sort of mope around, put through invoices. I remember we were taking Polaroids,” says Christina. They put the photos up on a big board in the office, chronicling the final days. The shots included “Christina signing Virginia O'Brien's expense report for the last time” and “Janet takes down the disco ball”; and, Christina remembers, “There were pictures of me holding up the sign WILL EDIT FOR FOOD.” The bored staff also made a fake mock-up of the next issue. “It was filled with all these stories that we were obviously never going to be able to write, making fun of specific advertisers, because we knew that the end was coming,” Margie recalls. Instead of working, Mike would go see matinees of
Pulp Fiction
, and would sometimes stop by to see if anything was happening in the office. People sat in their cubicles and updated their résumés. He remembers, “I was under the delusion that we'd all have no problem getting jobs because the industry just loves
Sassy
. And, you know, we'd be snatched up in no time.” (But it turned out that with the recession in full bloom, it wouldn't be so easy for them to land full-time employment.)
Then, for a brief, shining moment, it was rumored that Jann Wenner might be the staff's unlikely knight in shining armor. Wenner, the founder of
Rolling Stone
and the Wenner media empire, was known for being difficult. Still, he was admired as an editor who was eager to go against the grainâand, as an added bonus, he had cushy offices. On October 12,
Publishers Weekly
reported that Wenner had put in a bid for
Sassy
. The report turned out to be untrue.
On Friday, October 14, the daily staff debriefing at four p.m. ended with the news that on Monday would be their final meeting. That night, everyone went to a party that Karmen and Amy had been planning for a while, at a loft on the Bowery. Amy says, “It became the end-of-the-magazine party and it was a blast, a great night.”
That Monday, October 17, after a morning spent shuffling between the conference room and their desks, nervously waiting for news, the staff was called together. Lang announced that
Sassy
had been sold. Christina remembers Halfin saying
that Lang had spent his fortune on the magazine. “And I'm like, âWhatever.' I'd been there for seven years, and I got one month's severance pay.”
The buyer was Los Angelesâbased Petersen, proud publisher of such trade publications as
Guns & Ammo
,
Hot Rod
, and a
Sassy
archnemesis,
Teen
. It was the only company to bid on
Sassy
that could come through with the money, which Dale needed to keep the rest of his titles afloat. “Petersen felt it was a good fit with
Teen
and gave them a larger share of the teen market between the two magazines,” says Lang.
Teen
was largely read by girls between the ages of twelve and fifteen, and
Sassy
was supposed to appeal to older readers. “It was the wrong place, absolutely the wrong place for
Sassy
to go because it was totally run by bookkeepers. I'm sorry I ever had to sell it,” Lang admits. Ira Garey, who had been a publisher of
Seventeen
, was brought in as joint publisher of
Sassy
and
Teen
. He recalls that
Sassy
was relatively inexpensive and that Petersen paid a little over a million dollars for it.
The night they found out that
Sassy
was sold, the staff went to the International Bar in the East Village. “I have a really good idea for the next issue,” someone joked, or “That's such a good band for âCute Band Alert'!” Christina says they were just trying to make fun out of their bad luck. “We were just pretending that we were crazy people who didn't realize that we didn't have jobs anymore.”
The next day, the unemployment office was the site of an impromptu
Sassy
staff reunion for Christina, Virginia O'Brien, Amy Demas, and Andrea Linnett. Jane, of course, wasn't there; she was busy with her new project. “I think that kind of soured people,” says Mary. “I think they felt like, âWell, we just lost our jobs, and Jane already has this great gig.'” The staff was shell-shocked. In fact, Christina had met with Petersen a few months prior when they were looking for an editor in chief at
Teen
. “And I think at that point they were considering buying
Sassy
, and I guess they were trying to assess what the situation was,” she says. She told them she didn't think
Sassy
could be run from L.A. They thanked her for her time and dismissed her.
Back in the offices, the staff hadn't even been allowed to clean out their desks; everything belonged to Petersen now. Jennifer Baumgardner got the building's handyman to take her from the
Ms
. offices to the now-abandoned
Sassy
offices. “I walked in there, and all their files were still there, all their computers were still on. I mean, they were just told to leave,” she says. Even the fruit chandelier, which had been immortalized in “Diary,” was on the floor. “They just cut it down like they were cutting down a hanged person, and it just crashed onto the ground and was broken. And none of them ever came back to their offices,” she says. “It was like Pompeii.”