You see her at all the fashion parties in town: Jessica Joffe, the tall, luminous redhead who used to work at The Observer. She's the most beautiful and best-dressed in the room, but she's also carrying a notebook, jotting down observations for her writing gigs at Style.com, Grazia and The Observer or -- and this is why she went freelance -- for her novel in progress.
Before you raise your eyebrows, consider her stock: She is the daughter of intellectuals (her mother is a writer and her father is the publisher/editor of Germany's Die Zeit), was educated at a progressive British boarding school and has a degree in comparative literature from Stanford. She spent time modeling, but "I was a crap model," she says. "I detested the business as much as I am fascinated about it now. I always felt degraded." A riveting conversationalist, she'd rather discuss criticism, her preferred vocation. "I love Manny Farber and James Agee," says the 25-year old, referencing the most influential of film critics. "And, I hate to admit it, Anthony Lane. I do like a bit of Manohla Dargis. She's a bit contrarian and angry, but passionate about film."
Joffe is not prepared to divulge details of her novel, except to say that "It's set in New York. It's a portrait of an artist, or rather, a study of creativity. Or perhaps just depravity. Who knows. Maybe all those things go hand in hand."
Alex Zafiris