Condé Nast was never the largest media player in New York, not by a longshot. But the Newhouse family’s privately held magazine kingdom was always the most fabulous, the most glamorous, and certainly the most decadent—the rows of towncars outside 350 Madison and then 4 Times Square; the extravagant office flowers flown in from Amsterdam for the biggest events; the privately financed apartment-or-townhouse deals for top creative and financial executives who had to embody the lives they portrayed; the corporate retreats in Milan, taking over Hotel Cipriani in Venice; those leaked Four Seasons holiday luncheon seating charts, where an editor’s proximity to Si Newhouse projected their status; well… those were the days.