{"id":391793,"date":"2026-11-03T06:34:27","date_gmt":"2026-11-03T06:34:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ny\/391793\/"},"modified":"2026-11-03T06:34:27","modified_gmt":"2026-11-03T06:34:27","slug":"i-tried-and-failed-to-party-with-new-yorks-democratic-socialists","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/us-ny\/391793\/","title":{"rendered":"I Tried (and Failed) to Party With New York\u2019s Democratic Socialists"},"content":{"rendered":"

Let me begin by laying out my leftist credentials. In second grade, I sided with the Indians over the cowboys. Since middle school, I\u2019ve stood with Palestine, and in high school I protested the invasion of Iraq. I\u2019m a known Green Party apologist, and voted for lunatic presidential spoiler Dr. Jill Stein in 2012, 2016, and 2024. I joined Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) in 2016 and may very well still be a member from the ocean of emails they send me. I\u2019m probably the only bro on earth who subscribes to the feminist socialist magazine Lux. I\u2019ve helped taqueros hide from ICE. Last May, with friends I threw a massive party for DSA mayoral hopeful Nithya Raman<\/a> to get LA\u2019s counterculture behind her campaign. Raman is now on the cusp of becoming an Angeleno Zohran.\u00a0<\/p>\n

I share this biography on the eve of what many predict will be a left-wing midterm wave. Democrats are likely to retake the House. Progressive Senate candidate Abdul El-Sayed may very well win Michigan. In New York alone, Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) set off an \u201cearthquake\u201d<\/a> in June, winning nine out of their 10 primaries\u2014and most of those candidates will sail into office<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n

In the run-up to the general election, I set out to write a frothy diary about partying with New York\u2019s DSA faction over five weeks. How an organization parties, when the lights are low and guards are down, sometimes reveals more about its culture than any viral video or manifesto. And with DSA on the verge of breaking into the mainstream thanks to Zohran, AOC\u2019s presidential buzz<\/a>, and the media\u2019s hysteria about polarizing influencer Hasan Piker, it seems like a good time to find out what these young, cool, and chronically online operators are really like off-duty. But rather than hits of acid or bumps of ketamine, or even a stiff drink, I receive a sobering cold shoulder. What I don\u2019t understand is whether the issue is me or if DSA, New York\u2019s most powerful and organized leftist outfit, simply doesn\u2019t party?\u00a0<\/p>\n

To answer the question, I embark on an odyssey of fundraisers, coffees, canvassing, calls, and parties to meet the city\u2019s DSA faithful. The first hiccup is I\u2019m new to town and don\u2019t know anyone. So I post to my 25K+ mentally unwell IG followers asking if anyone knows anyone in DSA. No replies. In late September, at the launch of the new issue of my conceptual print tabloid On The Rag<\/a>, I meet a woman who invites me to debate ragebait<\/a>. Of course, I ask her if she knows anyone in DSA. I\u2019m in luck: my first lead.<\/p>\n

\"CanvassersNew York State Assembly candidate David Orkin canvassing in Ridgewood, Queens. All images courtesy of Sammy Loren.<\/p>\n

In early October, I walk through the East Village to Three Jewels Caf\u00e9. It feels very LA, by which I mean it\u2019s a sad fourth wave coffee shop with a \u201cspeakeasy\u201d yoga studio hidden behind a mirror. I order tea and wait for a DSA comrade who I\u2019ll codename \u201cTaylor.\u201d Taylor asks for anonymity because they have a square day job and are \u201cvery Nixonian and paranoid.\u201d Also, Taylor\u2019s working a swanky fundraiser for Abdul El-Sayed later that night, and doesn\u2019t want their cover blown.<\/p>\n

Taylor arrives, passionate and sharp\u2014and, I discover, attended my On The Rag launch, which is usually a strong indication of, if nothing else, a hedonistic spirit. But when I ask where and who they party with, Taylor grows evasive and reiterates their ask for anonymity before admitting to once having hung around downtown\u2019s literary scenes. Some more twee, others more edgelordy, all\u2014for Taylor\u2014depressingly \u201capolitical.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a milieu I know intimately, one that often celebrates crummy autofiction about degrading blowjobs and blowing coke at KGB rather than advocating for a 32-hour work week. \u201cThat\u2019s where DSA is distinct from the downtown scene,\u201d Taylor says. \u201cInstead of Catholicism, DSA is giving meaning to people in a pretty hopeless world.\u201d But as the Catholic Church knows well, aesthetics, pomp, and a festive spirit are key to getting people in the door. So my search for the DSA party continues.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"CrowdGuests arrive at a fundraiser for Abdul El-Sayed.<\/p>\n

After coffee, I head to the Bowery Hotel for the Abdul El-Sayed fundraiser. A line studded with progressive celebrities winds around the block. Former NYC mayor Bill de Blasio waltzes right to the front while writer Molly Crabapple waits with the rest of the plebeians, many dressed Leftist-chic: a gown or suit, but with a New Yorker tote.\u00a0<\/p>\n

I\u2019m not on the list and can\u2019t cough up the $250 for a ticket, but have been around long enough now to know about one of downtown\u2019s best-kept secrets: the Bowery bathroom, which connects the lobby\u2019s bar with the hotel\u2019s scammy Italian trattoria Gemma. Strolling by the hostess, I pass the kitchen hallway, walk past the bathrooms, and find myself inside the hotel\u2019s hushed lobby before a security guard asks me to leave. Womp. Later, I see pics online of AOC and Cynthia Nixon<\/a> at the event.\u00a0<\/p>\n

I worry if I\u2019ll ever break into any DSA subcultures, but Taylor connects me to Cora Hyatt who works in leadership. Cora texts me that, before speaking, she needs to ensure I\u2019m \u201ccleared.\u201d Her message continues: \u201cFor obvious reasons, they\u2019re being a little strict about members speaking with press even for something innocuous.\u201d<\/p>\n

Those \u201cobvious reasons\u201d are DSA\u2019s fears of some Free Press<\/a> or New York Post<\/a> provocateur punking them, though their anxiety can border on the neurotic. If the Trump era has taught us anything, isn\u2019t it that all press is good press? Shouldn\u2019t a hit piece by America\u2019s favorite rightwing rag be a badge of honor for any proud socialist?<\/p>\n

To get cleared, I share a pic of me posing with LA\u2019s DSA<\/a> mayoral candidate Nithya Raman as well as links to Instagram posts documenting the party I helped throw. To Cora, I reply: \u201cI\u2019m but a lowly culture journalist whose beat is books, art, and bohemia.\u201d<\/p>\n

She responds: \u201cThat\u2019s what they all say\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\"GuestsOrkin, Aber Kawas, and friends at the \u201cSocialist Saloon.\u201d<\/p>\n

A week later, with no word from Cora, I head to midtown on a stormy Sunday night for a \u201cSocialist Saloon.\u201d\u00a0Read: a queer line dancing party to fundraise for David Orkin and Aber Kawas, DSA candidates running for New York State Assembly and Senate seats. I expect a boozy, sexy queer rager \u00e0 la Buck Wild<\/a>, but it\u2019s more like a chaste church social: a teacher onstage chaperones a handful of geriatric millennials through the choreography while some Zoomers mingle off the dance floor.\u00a0<\/p>\n

At the bar, I meet Orkin volunteer Taryn Green, who tells me she makes friends through DSA because \u201cwe share a similar vision for the world.\u201d We small talk for a while, and I ever so gently ask if any of her DSA comrades drink or do drugs\u2014like seemingly everyone else I meet in New York. Taryn clams up: \u201cI\u2019m not in the party scene. I don\u2019t drink.\u201d The awkward interaction triggers my adolescent PTSD. Suddenly, I\u2019m at a summer cookout and offer weed or shrooms or contraband beers to my fellow teenagers, only for them to rat me out to their parents. And this time, I didn\u2019t even offer!<\/p>\n

Eventually, Aber, in a hijab and flannel shirt, approaches. Like any good politician, Aber exudes charisma and a bright, warm energy. \u201cI was terrible at line dancing,\u201d she jokes. She brings me to meet David, to whom I mention that I\u2019m writing about the intersection of activism and nightlife. He lights up.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m basically the mayor of Ridgewood,\u201d David jokes. I\u2019ve found my in. But no sooner do we start talking than David comes to his senses and backtracks, insisting that it was \u201coff record.\u201d I explain to both candidates that it doesn\u2019t work that way, you can\u2019t retroactively place a comment off the record. The two grow far more judicious.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t grow up partying,\u201d says Aber, whose Palestinian refugee parents raised her in New York. \u201cFor me, the social aspect manifests within Yemenite coffee shops. At 2 a.m., you\u2019ll find people hanging out and having coffee. Different culture, same kind of thing.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

What about David, \u201ca professional gay guy\u201d<\/a> living in New York\u2019s clubbing epicenter? \u201cI roll with techno people who plan events at Paragon, Nowadays, and Trans-Pecos to support DSA candidates and causes,\u201d David says, cautiously. \u201cPeople wanna bring their whole selves into the project.\u201d<\/p>\n

Could New York\u2019s most zeitgeisty leftist crew really be this earnest? In a city\u2014and, increasingly, a country\u2014full of berserk cynics, can this brand of respectability survive in our post-decency, post-truth world? As a leftist, I naturally loathe the right\u2019s racist and fascistic politics, but this level of prudishness makes even me nostalgic for the wild parties the psychopath incels used to throw at Sovereign House.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"PeoplePeople sleeping at the book launch for Shawn Gude\u2019s American Socialist: The Life and Legacy of Eugene V. Debs.<\/p>\n

The next week I weave between knock-offs on Canal Street and head upstairs to experimental event space Woodbine. The elevators spit me out into the launch party for Shawn Gude\u2019s new book, American Socialist: The Life and Legacy of Eugene V. Debs. NYC-DSA co-sponsors the event with Jacobin, probably the biggest socialist magazine on earth, but with a knack for pissing off the left and right with equal vigor. I should know; I\u2019m a longtime subscriber.\u00a0<\/p>\n

I sit amongst the sleepy crowd as Gude, a former Jacobin editor, and current Jacobin editor Micah Uetricht discuss how Debs transformed America\u2019s socialist movement. (Some people are literally sleeping.) During a post-talk chat with Micah, I discover he moonlights as a DJ, and I think I\u2019ve found another portal into the DSA underworld. But Micah quickly shoots me down. He prefers to keep his nocturnal DJing habit separate from his political commitments.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Fair enough, though in today\u2019s toxic online landscape, separating one\u2019s politics from their creative output is an untenable position for many. Just ask Ed Sheeran<\/a>! Micah makes the mistake of giving me his business card and I text him repeatedly that I\u2019d love to talk more. He never responds.<\/p>\n

\"AThe Ecological Socialist 101.<\/p>\n

On my birthday, rather than blacking out in the back of Clandestino with my gang of art and literary hooligans, I head to Bed-Stuy. I\u2019m there to check out the Ecological Socialist 101, a meet-and-greet intro to the group. On IG, I brag that I\u2019m going, and soon receive a message from a DSA activist: \u201cGoing to ecosoc 101\u2026 they\u2019re virgins don\u2019t put them into your article.\u201d<\/p>\n

I attend the 101 and the activist is right: It is pretty virginal, even the drinks afterwards. Member Nathan Nisenson tells me about attending fundraisers at the nightclubs Nowadays (dubbed Zohran\u2019s Mar-a-Lago) and House of Yes, but \u201cthey were a little buttoned up,\u201d he admits. \u201cMaybe I\u2019m not invited to the crazy ketamine ragers.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

Neither am I, I think, until Cora Hyatt finally gets back to me with an invitation for drinks at Forgtmenot in Dimes Square, which seems like a curious choice. Most DSA supporters reside in the \u201cCommie Corridor,\u201d swaths of rapidly gentrifying Queens and Brooklyn. Dimes Square, by contrast, is the birthplace of the alt-right reactionaries of the early 2020s, though much of that scene has been driven out by NYU cokeheads.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"FriendsDrinks with Romke Hoogwaerts and Cora Hyatt at Forgtmenot.<\/p>\n

Fellow DSA apparatchik Romke Hoogwaerts joins us and orders a burger and an NA beer while Cora throws back blood-red vodka cranberries that match her reddish hair. \u201cI joke that DSA stands for Drinking Socially Actively,\u201d Cora says. For over an hour, the two enumerate DSA\u2019s stunning successes: skyrocketing membership and the organization\u2019s laser focus on winning elections. As the booze works through our systems, I turn the conversation back to my main interest: Does DSA party?<\/p>\n

\u201cYou wouldn\u2019t believe who I\u2019ve done lines with,\u201d Cora laughs. \u201cAnd I will give you no hints.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI won\u2019t share who I\u2019ve smoked joints with,\u201d Romke says. \u201cBut trust me, I\u2019ve had some incredible conversations outside of a bar over a joint.\u201d<\/p>\n

So, maybe I am the problem. But even if DSA won\u2019t party with me, will other leftists?\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"MaddieMaddie Vasquez at the Dirty Mag party.<\/p>\n

To find out, I trek to the Bushwick dive 101 Wilson. Dirty Mag co-editor Maia Raymer blasts Def Leppard\u2019s 1987 blockbuster \u201cPour Some Sugar On Me\u201d in the back room as a handful of off-duty strippers, porn stars, and poets dance around a pool table. I feel right at home. It\u2019s not just the friendly faces of Office Mag\u2019s Izzy Capulong and poet and Hustler cover girl Maddie Vasquez\u2014Dirty\u2019s anarchist, DIY ethos transports me back to my own youth spent at punk shows in abandoned buildings.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cDSA attracts a lot of people who never had to consider sex work or drug dealing,\u201d Maia says over the music. \u201cThe world we\u2019ve built around Dirty Mag offers the freedom to express yourself sexually and physically in ways that are seen as taboo elsewhere. We\u2019re all praxis.\u201d<\/p>\n

Maddie, who I once curated into a reading inside a hooker\u2019s Ritz-Carlton suite, perhaps puts it best: \u201cRetired party girls never actually retire, sober girls are hot, and everything is political,\u201d she says. \u201cNow, I\u2019m going to Popeyes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"ExteriorOutside Mansions on the night of the party.<\/p>\n

I can\u2019t remember who invited me, but I have an actual DSA \u201cparty\u201d saved on my calendar and find myself on an industrial stretch of Metropolitan Avenue at Mansions. Activists sip cocktails as a DJ plays to an empty dance floor. I stand around awkwardly until legendary whistleblower Chelsea Manning says hello. The conversation veers into film, and Chelsea mentions that she loved You Can See Everything so much that she\u2019d seen the three-hour film twice. \u201cWe\u2019re all Nathan Fielder fans around here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Uninspiring stump speeches transpire on the dance floor. I film some, but someone stands right in front of me, almost as if she\u2019s intentionally blocking my phone. I move to the left, she moves to the left. I move to the right, she moves to the right. Maybe I\u2019m becoming as paranoid as the DSA activists I\u2019ve interviewed.\u00a0<\/p>\n

Post-speeches, I approach Chelsea, but her warmth has evaporated. Hoping to break the ice, I tell her about On The Rag and that I\u2019d love to give her a copy. Chelsea isn\u2019t impressed. \u201cNo,\u201d she says. \u201cI don\u2019t want one.\u201d<\/p>\n

On the outdoor patio, I spot the Jacobin editor from the book launch. He was, it turns out, just DJing the event\u2014and isn\u2019t particularly thrilled to see me.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cI definitely wasn\u2019t trying to ignore you,\u201d Micah says.\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?\u201d I joke. \u201cYou sound like me when I\u2019m ghosting someone.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

\"SamWriter Sam Adler-Bell at DSA\u2019s party at Mansions.<\/p>\n

New York magazine journalist and Know Your Enemy podcast host Sam Adler-Bell joins in. I complain about the difficulties I\u2019ve had reporting this story. That DSA preaches about how inclusive and \u201cdemocratic\u201d an organization they are\u2014until a journalist shows up.<\/p>\n

\u201cMuch of the media paints DSA as unserious or insane. Naturally many members are leery of journalists,\u201d Sam says. \u201cRelax, it\u2019s not personal.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

That makes sense. But my fellow leftists\u2019 pervasive suspicion of me seems riskier than activists blowing illicit powders. Sure, this defensiveness pre-empts criticism that DSA are crazed dope fiends, but it also speaks to a certain weakness. Why should America\u2019s boldest leftists care what anyone\u2014whether fellow believers, rightwing whackjobs, mainstream politicians or bohemians like me\u2014thinks? DSA may not be my fav flavor of bacchanalian subculture\u2014in fact, maybe they\u2019re not really a subculture at all. But they are without a doubt an inspiring movement, one with much promise and power\u2014though they could stand to cultivate some poetry, too.<\/p>\n

\"DavidOrkin at Peg\u2019s Cavalier.<\/p>\n

Over a drink at Peg\u2019s post-canvassing in Ridgewood, on the final afternoon of my leftist partying spree, David Orkin tells me something that might clarify the strangely tepid past five weeks I\u2019ve spent chasing an elusive DSA underworld:<\/p>\n

\u201cThe purpose of life is to enjoy life\u2014not work. But if I\u2019m honest I like working. I find meaning in it. With your comrades you can change the world by electing your friend mayor,\u201d David says, slowly sipping his one and only drink. \u201cAnd you can\u2019t do that kind of work hungover.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

More of our favorite stories from CULTURED<\/p>\n

Long Before Nathan Fielder\u2019s Brand of Post-Truth, There Was Janet Malcolm<\/a><\/p>\n

How the Elite\u2019s Cryopreservation Obsession Is Changing the Architecture of Death<\/a><\/p>\n

11 Gallery Shows by Living Legends on View This Month in New York<\/a><\/p>\n

What Does Hollywood\u2019s Recent Obsession With Monster Sex Say About Our Desires?<\/a><\/p>\n

Every Fall\/Winter 2026 Fashion Collection, Collab, and Campaign You Need to Know<\/a><\/p>\n

Sign up for our newsletter here<\/a> to get these stories direct to your inbox.<\/p>\n

\t\t\t\t