Girl Power
“We want to be seen as the McKinsey of PR,” Boyd is fond of saying, alluding to the global consulting firm. Yes, Kelly Boyd has goals — the biggest of which, it seems, is not to be confused with Nicole Cashman. She has goals for her company and goals for herself — in fact, she and her husband, corporate headhunter Patrick Sylvester, keep them tabulated on an ever-evolving list that’s said to be close to 20 pages long.
Boyd, who grew up in Lower Gwynedd, worked for Senator John Heinz before attending law school at Temple. Before graduating, she picked up publicity clients like the Greater Philadelphia Hotel Association, and the boutique Latham Hotel, near Rittenhouse Square. Now, she handles Sofitel, down the street.
KB Consulting has carved out a subtle but new niche in the PR game that goes far beyond the press release and the vodka-soaked party. It’s not just about image among the Dan Grosses and Michael Kleins of the media world — that’s too low-rent for Boyd’s clients. It’s about cultivating a smart and tasteful aura around the power elite. Why settle for Gross and Klein when you can impress Luries and du Ponts? “They’ve helped us interface with key folks,” says Chuck Bragitikos, of Center City development firm MRA International, who notes that KB has aided his company in crafting a public and government relations strategy. “They helped us pick the best — not the best, but very worthy charities.”
If you retain its services, KB Consultants will make sure you attend the right events, like the Academy Ball, or the annual Pennsylvania Society dinner at the Waldorf-Astoria. At these events, Boyd, or one of her “girls” — Beth, Dotty, Megan, Laura, Rachael, Avery and Janet — will take your arm, and connect you with the people you should know: the politicians, journalists, CEOs. It’s kind of like having a very attractive sherpa help you climb through the wild terrain of high society.
Ostensibly, these people may be interested in you, and may remember your company or product — although, occasionally, they may be too overwhelmed by the promoter to even remember your name. Kelly Boyd, after all, was the subject of a big Inquirer feature last year, and her name appeared in local newspapers at least 10 times in 2004. She’s been photographed by this magazine in massive diamond earrings. She owns a $2.45 million Delancey Place townhouse — one that’s adjacent to her other, $980K Delancey Place townhouse.
It all sounds very genteel, but beneath Kelly Boyd’s pampered veneer lurks the heart of a tough businesswoman. She’s fiercely protective of her business — so much so that in 2001, she had an employee arrested, allegedly for deleting e-mails from her work computer after she quit the company. The woman, Molly Reilly Healy, a 26-year-old Cornell graduate whose bridal shower Boyd had paid for, was shell-shocked by the action. She was given six months in a lenient probation program without a finding of guilt, and has since left the area.
As much as it sounds like mere juicy gossip, the preceding anecdote illuminates an important truth about the PR industry. Building loyalty within your company is paramount, because, well, almost anyone can do PR. Boyd’s paranoia isn’t completely paranoid. “There’s no barrier to entry in this business,” says Corie Moskow, a former KB employee whose Gloss Public Relations represents the coalition of businesses that make up Rittenhouse Row, a former KB client. “I mean, we’re not curing cancer here. It’s not rocket science.”
