Alex Delany has a recommendation for you. Throwing a dinner party? He has a playlist for that. Craving a stony white wine to pair with grilled fish? He’s got you covered. Looking for a dive bar in some far-flung American locale? Delany will sort you out. He cultivated these skills and refined his palate at Bon Appétit, where he did a little bit of everything—writing, editing, video, and a brief stint in the production department—before striking out on his own. Now he spreads his gospel as a DJ, event planner, consultant for bars and restaurants, and man about town.
We met Delany at Bar Pisellino in the West Village and sipped cortados while a window unit dripped on us from above and a TikToker filmed an unhinged dance video next to our table. We talked about how his editorial background shapes his work, how positioning is just pitching, and why you should always take the call.
Three Point Four Media: What does Alex Delany do?
Alex Delany: At this point, more than a couple things—and it depends on the day. DJ slash throw events. Sound consulting for bars, restaurants, and hotels. Which means helping hospitality businesses to make sure they’re playing the right music, doing the right playlists, buying the right speakers, making sure their room sounds balanced. What else is on this list? [Laughs] Consult on the more consumable side of the business. So, doing wine lists for people, seasonal cocktail lists, helping from a bar and drink perspective, making sure that they’re serving the right thing at the right price. For instance, I just did a by-the-glass list for a hotel in New York that was desperately in need of some cool wines.
And then social media partnerships, because they always help pay the bills.
It sounds like the food and beverage consulting is not that much different from your work at BA.
It’s not that much different. It’s just delivering my taste in a different way.
It’s this ecosystem where all of the work informs other work that I’m doing, which I think is really important to anyone in a creative field.
Let’s go back to the beginning. We have similar Condé Nast origin stories: We both got our start in the production department and then weaseled our way into editorial. How’d you do it?
My last summer at college I interned at Details in the graphic design department. After I graduated, there was a production manager job opening at Bon Appétit, and I admittedly had no idea what that was. It was in the art department. I thought for sure I’d be designing magazine pages. I got the job, and I was not designing magazine pages.
But you were in the building!
I was in the building.
When I got the production job at Vanity Fair, my thinking was “this isn’t a writing or editing gig, but it’s in the building.”
Exactly. It wasn’t the job I wanted, but I was super happy going to the office. I was 21, had just moved to New York City, and these were the coolest people I’d ever met. The BA crew at that time was so fun, they were so knowledgeable, and I was obsessed with food and bars. I had this wealth of knowledge at my fingertips. Going to work every day was truly a delight. Sitting in front of a computer at 11:55 before the magazine has to go out at midnight with my head in my hands making sure I had the right hi-res photo files? I just wasn’t cut out for it.
But, I had this reputation of knowing about craft beer. Which is funny, because this was 2014 when you couldn’t kick a can and have it not hit a craft beer bar in New York. No one on staff really knew anything about craft beer, so I was asked a couple times to write about beer for the magazine and the website. And then I started writing about other stuff.
First off, have three times as much money in the bank as you think you need. It’s really about setting it all up before you before you make the jump. Have your finances straightened out. Have legitimate clients that are not promises.
Were you still in the production department?
Yeah, I would stop doing production work at like eight or nine and start writing. I was also much better at the writing than I was at the production stuff. Finally they asked me if I wanted a job as an assistant editor on the website. This is kind of hard to believe because it was in the not-so-distant past, but the web team only had five people including me. In addition to doing all my low-totem pole editing responsibilities I ran the Instagram account. I was wearing all these hats, and a couple years later I was offered an associate editor role with the magazine.
That’s around the time BA’s video content took off. I was asked to go to Chicago and record a video because another editor couldn’t. It was successful, and they asked me to do more video stuff which eventually landed me a gig leading the magazine’s drinks coverage.
Shedding the credibility of the name that you worked for or the people that you were associated with and just being you is a lot harder. Having a buoy that keeps you in the orbit of credibility that is not just your own is very important.
When did you leave?
Late 2021.
What advice would you give to someone who wants to do their own thing?
First off, have three times as much money in the bank as you think you need. It’s really about setting it all up before you before you make the jump. Have your finances straightened out. Have legitimate clients that are not promises. I got burned by two people immediately upon leaving, which was rough waters there for a bit—but a very good lesson.
In my experience, it takes a lot longer than you think it’s going to take to get a certain reputation and credibility based on your own talent and skills that is not just based on the name of where you used to work, especially if you are leaving an institution like Bon Appétit. When I was leaving BA, Chris Black gave me this advice: “Make sure you stay relevant in the eyes of the public, if you’re leaving a journalism thing where your name is constantly being put out there.” At first, I didn’t really understand it. But two years later I was like, wait a minute he’s 100% right.
Shedding the credibility of the name that you worked for or the people that you were associated with and just being you is a lot harder. Having a buoy that keeps you in the orbit of credibility that is not just your own is very important.
Has throwing parties and events kind of served as that vs. having a byline?
Yes, and it’s an interesting parallel because when you hear Bon Appétit it’s instant credibility. I’ll use Public Records, where I throw a regular party, as an example. If you are someone who likes music in New York, it’s an institution. It means a ton to music people. For me to do a party there where I DJ and also curate the wine and food, it’s instant credibility. Also, there are people who work there and DJ there who are, quite honestly, much better DJs than me and more tasteful in terms of music. It’s like working at a magazine with an editor that’s better than you or a writer that’s better than you. It’s another way where you can learn, and I feel like I’m always learning.
Those parties have to be really good for your consulting work
Absolutely. I have to remind myself I am not doing a wine list for me. I have very specific taste, but I have to consider the taste of the general public. Which is why I love it, it puts me outside my own head. It’s this ecosystem where all of the work informs other work that I’m doing, which I think is really important to anyone in a creative field. This is something I always thought when I was at BA. The more I know about architecture, interior design, art, music, or finance, the better food journalist I will become because I understand all of these different aspects that shape the thing I’m covering.
How do you feel your editorial background informs everything you do now? You’re using the same muscles.
To me, the pitching process was always something I dreaded, but it’s ultimately what makes me good at what I do now. I can tell a person the thesis of an event, the identity of a cocktail program, or the reason we are pouring these wines. It’s like telling an editor the crux of a piece.
Positioning is just pitching, and people with editorial backgrounds are better at it than other people in creative services.
100%. Learning how to make something fit and make sense, and do it very succinctly.
Is most of your work inbound?
Social media stuff is through my agent. I would say everything else is 75% inbound, 25% chasing either clients I’ve worked with, other clients I’m interested in, or having an idea for a project and pitching it around.
Noah and I have tried cold calling before, and it didn’t work. Now it’s all word of mouth.
You have to be within a certain degree of separation. Cold calling is hard as hell and it makes you feel like shit.
And it’s ineffective. We’re not selling software.
It’s a waste of time. You’re selling a specific thing that most people don’t need. That’s what I always tell people: Most people don’t need what I’m selling. There’s nothing more valuable than word of mouth if you’re in any kind of creative field. If you’re delivering good work to someone it’s just a matter of time until someone asks, “Hey who did this?”
If you know the person in between, or you know two people in between, always write the email or take a 10-minute call. It’s never not worth the effort. My rule is always reach out.
"I get it. My resume is weird."
Like many people, Clint Irwin has a corporate job. Unlike most, he had a 15-year detour as a professional athlete first. Clint spent more than a decade in Major League Soccer, playing goalkeeper for the Colorado Rapids, Toronto FC, and Minnesota United. He won MLS Cup in 2017 and spent more than nine years on the executive board of the Players Union.
