NYT Magazine - March 22 2020

(WallPaper) #1

Wing headquarters, says she was chastised by
a manager after sharing with her team that she’d
had a psychotic episode. She says she was told
that she was creating an unstable work envi-
ronment, even as she worked to produce Wing
stickers that read ‘‘WOMEN SUPPORTING
WOMEN SUPPORTING WOMEN.’’ (The Wing
spokeswoman said the company provides men-
tal health benefi ts to all its employees.)
Salaried Wing employees often worked pun-
ishingly long days without overtime pay, but
hourly Wing employees, whose pay currently
starts at $16.50 in New York clubs, could have
trouble being consistently approved for enough
shifts to support themselves. That is ‘‘not a living
wage, especially not in New York City,’’ Darling
wrote in an email to management. While work-
ing at the Wing, Darling snagged a free ‘‘Ladies
Get Paid’’ tote from a Wing event hosted by a
group that fi ghts for equal pay, but, as they wrote
in their email, ‘‘I have been so broke that I hav-
en’t had money to even buy food.’’ Tips from
the Perch were distributed among the staff , but
Wing members tended to be poor tippers. A
version of the Perch menu reassured them that
‘‘the Wing provides equitable, living wages to
all of our employees, front- and back-of-house
alike.’’ (The Wing spokeswoman said that the
company has always ‘‘maintained employment
best practices.’’)
Through all of this, some of these very same
Wing employees could be seen on Instagram,
grinning from the Perch or gladly pouring lattes in
Wing-logo shirts. ‘‘You learn the game very quick-
ly with the Wing,’’ one former employee says. ‘‘As
long as everything looks Instagram-ready, we’re
good.’’ An enticing visual presentation — owning
clever accessories, wearing a cute outfi t, main-
taining an attractive side hustle — was seen as
a plus. Staff members noticed that Gelman was
drawn to such women.
The drive for perfection created ‘‘a culture
of fear and secrecy,’’ one former employee says.
Until recently, Wing values posted in the spaces
reminded employees that a requirement of the
job was to act in a ‘‘utopian’’ manner. Each club
sent a daily report to executives, but employ-
ees learned to avoid fl agging problems, sensing
that the leadership treated every surface fl aw
as a disaster. During an extended bout of con-
struction on the SoHo space, the ceiling cracked
and leaked, and while employees were told to
stop alerting higher-ups to the problem, they
say they were also expected to make it appear
solved. Staff members placed buckets around the
space during storms, but if Gelman was heading
over with guests, they embarked on a vaudevil-
lian routine of removing the buckets just in time
for Gelman’s arrival and replacing them before
a puddle had formed. ‘‘We used to call SoHo ‘the
Rainforest Cafe,’ ’’ says Cass Alcide, a former com-
munity manager. Employees were instructed not


to clean in front of members, lest they ruin the
illusion. At the Wing, outside appearances could
be obsessed over while internal feedback was
stigmatized or ignored. ‘‘It was Gaslighting 101,’’
one employee says.

This incessant P.R. drive extended to the
Wing’s internal communications. After the New
York City Commission on Human Rights began
an investigation into the Wing’s gender policy
and a Washington man sued over being denied
access to the club, the company instituted a
policy of allowing men through its doors. But
when the leadership announced the change to
staff members, they framed the new guidelines
as an eff ort to generously school its community
on inclusiveness toward nonbinary and trans
members. ‘‘It was worded like someone had
just skimmed the Wikipedia for Judith Butler,’’ a
former employee says. But soon the real impact
of the policy became clear, as men entered the
spaces, tagging along with their girlfriends and
colonizing the phone booths.
Last summer, issues of race at the Wing
came under public scrutiny. A black member
wrote on Instagram that despite the West Hol-
lywood location’s ‘‘private call booth named
after Moesha,’’ a ’90s sitcom character, she had
found the Wing to be a ‘‘majority-white capi-
talist co-working space.’’ She and a guest, she
wrote, had been ‘‘harassed’’ by a white woman
‘‘over a parking space.’’ Employees had been
fl agging similar incidents for years, but the
member’s post had garnered press attention.
The Wing convened meetings where members
and employees could discuss racial tensions.
‘‘People were emotionally vulnerable at the
community gatherings on race,’’ an employee
says. But not much seemed to change. ‘‘It felt
like people opened up for no reason.’’
The Wing’s culture, many employees said,
originated at the top. Though Kassan had a
more muted presence in the offi ce, Gelman
was described as particular and capricious. In
2018, Gelman arrived at the Dumbo space to

host her younger sister’s bridal shower. Fol-
lowing the event, the employee working the
front desk that day was unexpectedly removed
from her perch and left to pick up cleaning
duties, according to emails she sent to her
managers. She detailed how her weekly hours
had been drastically reduced without expla-
nation. An H.R. rep fi nally informed her that
she had been frozen out of shifts because, as
the employee documented in an email to Gel-
man the next day, ‘‘you came in and felt like
I didn’t know you, because I didn’t use your
name when I welcomed you into the space.’’
In a partial recording of the meeting made by
the employee, her manager confi rmed that the
change occurred because ‘‘Audrey made those
remarks about how she thought you interacted
with her.’’ (The Wing spokeswoman said, ‘‘As
in any workplace, employees receive feedback
and ways to improve.’’)
Later that year, another employee who had
attended the Ocasio-Cortez fund-raiser at Gel-
man’s home tweeted a note of discomfort about
the radical-chic gathering. When Gelman spied
it late at night over a weekend, she summoned
her to her offi ce the next Monday morning. The
employee deleted the tweet and apologized,
and Gelman responded benevolently. ‘‘Your
intelligence and depth are beyond your years,’’
Gelman wrote the employee in an email. Of the
Wing, she said: ‘‘I am honestly very down to
hear your unvarnished opinions on it, and ideas
you have to improve it and make it better. I real-
ly mean that.’’ But a few months later, when the
employee emailed Gelman to ask about raising
wages, and then began to inquire among staff
about their working conditions, a Wing disci-
plinary write-up signed by Kassan rebuked the
employee for ‘‘expressing negative views about
an event at Audrey’s home,’’ ‘‘sending reactive
emails directly to the C.E.O.’’ and ‘‘interrogating
staff about their pay and benefi ts.’’ The employ-
ee was warned that the company wanted to see
‘‘a signifi cant improvement’’ in her ‘‘impulsive
and reactive behaviors’’ or face ‘‘corrective
action up to and including termination.’’
Once, Gelman noticed a few dirty dishes
in the beauty room of a club while Venus Wil-
liams was visiting the space, according to an
employee who was working the event. She said
Gelman shut the doors to the beauty room and
raised her voice, saying a C.E.O. shouldn’t have
to clean. The employee left rattled and crying.
Two employees who were present in the club
that day confi rmed that the employee tearfully
described the incident to them shortly after
it happened. (The Wing spokeswoman denied
that it occurred.) Last year, Gelman told the
website the Cut that ‘‘the most fun I’ve had
in the last few months’’ involved rolling up
her sleeves and doing dishwashing shifts at
the Wing. ‘‘She washed

The New York Times Magazine 27

‘You learn the game


very quickly with


the Wing,’ one former


employee says.


‘As long as


everything looks


Instagram-ready,


we’re good.’


(Continued on Page 53)
Free download pdf