The Incredible Story Of The Socialite Who Turned New York City Upside Down

At the time of her crimes, Delvey was well established in New York’s glittering social scene. She hosted dinners for friends and acquaintances at posh restaurants, attended hip music festivals like Coachella, and was seen at the best parties in town. No one was sure where Delvey’s money had come from, but she seemed to have plenty of it. It would only be later on that people would really start to question her stories.

According to an article published in New York magazine’s The Cut, some people believed Delvey’s wealth had come from her father being an oil industry bigwig. Others thought her family had made their money in antiques. And when people asked where the young socialite was from, she told them she’d lived in Cologne. Yet Delvey admitted she couldn’t speak German very well — and still somehow managed to continue to worm her way into high society.

It seemed Delvey wasn’t planning to waste the money she had, though. She told people she wanted to open a big center in New York — once she was able to access cash from her trust fund at the age of 25. It would be called the Anna Delvey Foundation and would be filled with stores, eateries, and artwork. That was her dream, and she was apparently willing to do anything to make it happen.

Delvey spent a great deal of time at the upmarket 11 Howard hotel in Soho while apparently setting up her grand plan. Neffatari Davis, who worked as an attendant, told The Cut that Delvey made a name for herself as one of the hotel’s most extravagant guests, generously tipping staff $100 a time for a variety of menial tasks. She also made a name for herself online.

After all, Delvey’s life might have been different from that of most 20-somethings, but just like everybody else, she was keen to record all her highlights on social media. Her glamorous nights out, designer clothes, and fast cars were all documented on her Instagram account — and she quickly amassed 40,000 followers. Delvey also posted pictures of her trips to various exotic locations and caught the eyes of those in the know.

Perhaps unsurprisingly for someone rich who planned to open a gallery, Delvey’s life was filled with visits to art shows. But Michael Xufu Huang, an art collector who went with Delvey to the Venice Biennale, told The Cut that she asked him to book the flights and hotel for the trip. He wasn't suspicious at first, but while they were there, he did notice that she always paid in cash.

It seems Delvey’s friends were often willing to help her out by covering payments for her, too. Reportedly, she always seemed to have plenty of cash and promised to pay them back. But, as The Cut explained, some of her actions did seem unusual for someone who was so wealthy — such as asking friends to pay for her taxis on their credit cards.

Despite this, it seemed for a while that Delvey’s plan to open a trendy arts center was making good progress. She found a suitable site in New York and hired a well-known London designer to come up with logos. But alarm bells started to ring for Delvey’s friends when, after a birthday meal at the fashionable Sadelle’s eatery, managers called one of the guests to say she had not paid.

And soon the 11 Howard hotel told Delvey it was time to pay up, too. The Cut reported that she owed around $30,000 by this time, and the amount just kept climbing. And when the staff realized that there was no credit card on file, they changed the lock on Delvey’s room. She was on holiday in Omaha at the time, so they locked away her belongings. But this didn't stop her.

Delvey moved on to a couple of other hotels, but it wasn’t long before the same thing happened and in October 2017, she was arrested. Two hotels, the Beekman and W Downtown, filed charges for theft of services. The documents from the District Attorney of Manhattan show she’s also thought to have carried out scams including check fraud. Others soon came forward with their own stories.

Rachel Williams, who worked as a photo editor for Vanity Fair magazine, claimed she had lost tens of thousands of dollars after footing the bill for a luxury holiday with Delvey in Morocco. The Cut reported how Delvey had been accused of falsifying bank documents showing balances of millions of dollars. She used these to secure a $100,000 loan, supposedly for her gallery project.

It soon emerged that the socialite’s real name was Anna Sorokin. Born in Russia in 1991, she and her family had relocated to Germany in 1997. The Daily Mail reported that her father was once a lorry driver and has since run his own firm selling heating and cooling appliances. Her mother had first opened a convenience store before later becoming a housewife.

Sorokin had slavishly followed the likes of Vanity Fair and fashion blogs from an early age. She reportedly studied fashion in London, at Central St Martins. She also did work experience for a PR company in Berlin, before moving to Paris to work as an intern at the art and culture magazine Purple. It was while Sorokin was in Paris that she had changed her surname to Delvey.

In the courtroom, prosecuting counsels have claimed Sorokin managed to maintain her jet-setting lifestyle via a method known as “check-kiting.” This is when someone deposits an invalid check but then removes at least some of the cash before the check fails to clear. But the Daily Mail quoted lawyer Todd Spodek in June 2018 as saying “people will not be able to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Ms. Sorokin intended to defraud her friends and colleagues.”

In June 2018 Sorokin appeared in court in Manhattan for a hearing, charged with grand larceny and various other offenses. Her offer to plead guilty if it meant she would spend no more than 36 months in jail was rejected by Judge Diane Kiesel. He said that would be “a mere slap on the risk for a crime this serious.” The suggested maximum prison term was 15 years.

According to the New York Post newspaper, Judge Kiesel said she saw few signs of contrition in Sorokin. She said, “I see no remorse. She seems more concerned about who is going to play her in the movie than what she’s done to the people she allegedly took advantage of.” Sorokin then refused a plea deal that offered her a three-to-nine-year sentence. Her trial began in March 2019.

In April 2019 a New York jury found Sorokin guilty of the majority of the charges filed against her. This came to second-degree grand larceny, theft of services, and first-degree attempted grand larceny. She was found innocent of one first-degree grand larceny charge related to an attempted $22 million loan and also of taking $60,000 from a friend. Her sentence was delivered in May.

Sorokin was handed a prison term of four to 12 years. “I am stunned by the depth of the defendant’s deception,” Justice Diane Kiesel said. She described Sorokin as being “blinded by the glitter and glamour of New York City.” Sorokin was also fined $24,000 and ordered to pay back $199,000. She would face deportation after her release, too.

“She was interested in the designer clothes, the champagne, the private jets, the boutique hotel experience, and the exotic travel that went along with it — everything that big money could buy,” Justice Kiesel said. “But she didn’t have big money. All she had was a big scam.” Sorokin told the court, “I apologize for the mistakes I made.” Yet although Sorokin was imprisoned in Riker's Island, it was far from the end of her story.

In February 2022 Netflix released Inventing Anna, a miniseries created by Shonda Rhimes and inspired by an article about Sorokin's crimes. Julia Garner took on the role of Sorokin — and earned an Emmy nomination for her work — and the series itself was a much-talked-about hit for the streamer. Yet it wasn't without its controversies — not least the amount of money the real Sorokin was paid for her life rights.

Sorokin earned an eye-watering $320,000 for agreeing to the series and even got a chance to be a consultant. “And that’s why, to reference that BBC interview where I was asked 'Does crime pay?’ I could not honestly say no, in my situation, because I did get paid,” Sorokin told The New York Times in 2022. “For me to say no would just be denying the obvious. I didn’t say that crime pays in general.”

But Sorokin seemingly didn’t get to use the money in the same way she has in the past. “I paid $198,000-something for restitution, which I have paid off in its entirety and right away, and the rest of it to my legal fees,” she explained. And in the same interview, Sorokin did reiterate that she really does feel sorry for her actions.

“I feel sorry for the way my case is being perceived,” she said. “And I feel sorry that I resorted to these actions that people think I’m glorifying now. I feel sorry for the choices I’ve made. Definitely, I don’t feel like the world would be a better place if people were just trying to be more like me.” But there are plenty of people who have acted just like her.

To the admission staff of Princeton University, Alexi Indris-Santana was a standout candidate. A self-taught dreamer with a thirst for learning, he was driven, motivated, and a star on the running track. And when he arrived on campus, he impressed both his peers and tutors alike. But the man who claimed to have been a humble rural worker was hiding a dark secret — and eventually, a chance encounter would unravel his lies.

Over the course of 18 months, Indris-Santana built up a reputation as one of Princeton’s most promising students. A gifted athlete, he also excelled in his classes and even joined the prestigious Ivy Club. But one day early in 1991, everything came crashing down, with the long-distance runner being exposed as a liar and a fraud.

On paper, Indris-Santana had presented himself as a romantic loner who’d learned philosophy while working on a ranch. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. In reality, the star student was somebody else entirely, and his time at Princeton was just the latest in a series of deceptions and scams.

So by the time that it landed on Princeton’s admissions desk, Indris-Santana’s application had been meticulously crafted to succeed. On paper, the young ranch worker who’d overcome adversity was exactly the sort of person the Ivy League university was searching for. And ultimately, he was offered a place.

After deferring for 12 months, Indris-Santana began his studies at Princeton during the summer of 1989. And even prior to classes starting, he’d already developed a reputation as one to watch. Athletically gifted, he had a story that set him apart from the other students — and a serious dedication to his coursework that soon became apparent.

As Indris-Santana settled into Princeton, he distinguished himself academically and showed a remarkable work ethic. He became something of a celebrity out of the classroom, too, thanks to his unconventional past. At one point he was even invited to join the Ivy, the most prestigious of the campus societies known as “eating clubs.”

Perhaps Indris-Santana’s best talent, though, was as a runner, and he was soon accepted onto Princeton’s illustrious track team. But it was this decision that would ultimately prove his undoing. During a meet in 1991, a woman called Renee Pacheco recalled the promising runner from her high school days and revealed the truth about his identity.

According to Pacheco, Indris-Santana had been known back then as Jay Mitchell Huntsman or by the nickname Riivk. Apparently, he’d turned up at California’s Palo Alto High School in 1985. And this time, he had a back story even more bizarre than the one that would gain him a place at Princeton three years later.

Reports stated that the man calling himself Huntsman had told the school that he was an orphan who’d been left alone when his mom and dad passed away during a trip to South America. But even before that, he claimed, his life had been far from ordinary. Apparently, he’d grown up in a commune in Nevada, taking responsibility for his own education and running in his spare time.

By Huntsman’s own account, following his parents’ deaths he wanted to get a formal education. So he took lodgings in Palo Alto and enrolled at the local high school, with his sights set on attending Stanford. And just weeks into his academic career, he took part in a track meet at the prestigious university, leaving the rest of the competitors in the dust.

Despite his success, though, the impressive young man didn’t present himself to officials at the meet. And this raised the suspicions of local journalist Jason Cole. Digging into the stranger’s past, Cole soon discovered that the real Jay Mitchell Huntsman had passed away back in 1969. This individual, it seemed, was an imposter.

When Cole approached the school with his findings, Huntsman confessed. In reality, he admitted, he was a 25-year-old man called James Hogue. He wasn’t an orphan, either: his mom was alive and well and living in Kansas. So why the strange act – and why was he posing as a boy almost ten years his junior?

Although Hogue himself disappeared shortly after his unmasking, the true details of his life were slowly revealed. Apparently, he’d attended high school — the first time around — in Kansas City, where he excelled in track events. Hogue eventually won a scholarship to the University of Wyoming, where he continued to pursue his passion for running.

Unfortunately, though, Hogue’s dreams were shattered when he found himself up against the university’s superior Kenyan athletes. Unable to match their speed, he became disillusioned and ultimately dropped out of college altogether. But rather than move on with his life, he’d decided to take a second shot at high school instead.

After his first con was discovered, Hogue fled Palo Alto and eventually wound up in the Colorado ski resort of Vail. Claiming to be a professor from Stanford University, he spent a couple of seasons working at an athletics camp run by the renowned coach Jim Davis. Hogue then returned to California, where he continued an acquaintance with bicycle manufacturer Dave Tesch.

Not long after Hogue’s arrival in the city of San Marcos, equipment and components worth $20,000 were stolen from Tesch. But the manufacturer might never have suspected his friend had the story not taken a bizarre twist. In the spring of 1988, Utah native Bruce Stucky came into the bicycle store with a strange story to tell.

According to Stucky, a pal of his had encountered Hogue during a get-together in Utah. Hogue was showing off bicycle equipment bearing the name of the San Marcos manufacturer. Sure that he’d fingered the culprit at last, Tesch contacted police and traveled with an officer to search a storage unit belonging to the suspected thief.

At the unit in St. George — more than 400 miles from San Marcos — the men found Tesch’s stolen gear. And that wasn’t all. According to reports, they also found evidence that someone had been sleeping there. Who that was became apparent when Hogue arrived and was promptly arrested, eventually receiving a five-year jail stretch. But his time in San Marcos hadn’t been wasted. While living rough in the city, it seems, he’d also been preparing for the ultimate con.

During their investigation, the men discovered that Hogue had been in the process of establishing another fake identity: Alexi Indris-Santana. Using this name, he’d applied to several of the country’s top colleges, with Princeton among them. Today, though, those involved can’t recall if these institutions were warned of the attempted fraud. But if they were, the message certainly didn’t get through.

While Hogue was hoarding stolen goods in St. George, admissions officers at Princeton were considering an application made in Indris-Santana’s name. According to the paperwork, he was a ranch hand from Nevada who’d never had a formal education. Instead, Hogue claimed, he’d immersed himself in the works of Plato while living in the great outdoors.

Backed up by excellent SAT results, Indris-Santana’s application was intriguing to the admissions board. And when an appearance on campus in the spring of 1988 confirmed the hopeful’s athletic ability, his prospects improved even further. At the time, university officials believed that it was the first occasion in a decade that the young man had slept inside.

And not long after his visit, Indris-Santana was accepted into Princeton. But around the same time, Hogue was being locked up for possession of stolen goods, leaving him unable to assume his false identity. Not wanting to give up on his dream, though, the conman convinced the university to defer his place.

Hogue concocted an elaborate story to explain his absence from Princeton. His mom, he informed university officials, was seriously unwell, and he’d have to travel to Europe in order to tend to her. And despite a report naming Indris-Santana appearing in a San Jose newspaper, his deception went unnoticed.

After just nine months of his sentence, Hogue was released in time to take up his deferred place at Princeton. And in 1989 he finally arrived on campus, with his reputation as an athlete preceding him. According to The New Yorker, the student’s mature personality often won him the admiration of surrounding women. But given that he was actually almost 30 at the time, that perhaps shouldn’t come as a surprise.

At Princeton, Hogue shared a suite with Avshalom Yotam and Ben Richardson, who’ve both since commented on their former roommate’s bizarre habits. Speaking to The New Yorker in 2001, Yotam explained, “He was in very good physical shape. But he always walked hunched over, with his long hair sort of hiding his face, even when he was right there in front of you. I don’t think Alexi made direct eye contact with me or Ben very often. And he was always walking fast, like it was a race.”

In the same interview, Richardson recalled that Hogue had once informed him that he made a habit of sleeping on the floor. But though there were no great friendships forged between the roommates, the man known as Indris-Santana was certainly popular. At times, he even threw parties for his female admirers inside his room.

Soon, though, all that was to come crashing down. After Pacheco recognized the man she knew as Huntsman she reached out to Cole, and the journalist exposed the conman once again. In February 1991, he was arrested in the middle of a geology class. As word spread around campus, Hogue’s former friends were shocked to find out the truth.

And unlike Hogue’s previous exploits in Palo Alto, his Princeton con soon garnered widespread coverage in the press. Now, America looked on as the serial trickster faced criminal charges for forgery and theft. After all, he hadn’t just been an imposter — he’d also claimed over $20,000 in grants that he wasn’t entitled to.

For the second time, it looked as if Hogue was set to go to jail for his crimes. But while he was awaiting sentencing, a former teacher took pity on him and assisted him in starting afresh in Cambridge, Massachusetts: the home of Harvard University. Was it enough to set him on the straight and narrow? Unfortunately not.

In Cambridge, Hogue found work at Harvard, helping to record the university’s vast collection of jewels. But it wasn’t long until he was back to his old ways. After artifacts valued in excess of $50,000 went missing, they were eventually found in the conman’s private quarters.

Before Hogue could be pulled into court to explain himself, it was time for him to face justice for his exploits at Princeton. Just before Christmas 1992, he was given nine months behind bars, although he was out in less than five. This time, though, his freedom was short-lived. The very same day that he walked free, he was taken into custody over his role in the Harvard crimes.

By this time, then, Hogue had become the scourge of the Ivy League. He spent a further 17 months in jail on grand larceny charges. But even this extended stint of incarceration did little to straighten him out. And once paroled, he couldn’t resist heading back to Princeton, where he struck up yet another con.

Clearly, Hogue couldn’t get enough of campus life. Taking on the alias of Jim MacAuthor, he began frequenting the university lunch hall until he was eventually spotted and the police were called. Finally, it seemed, the conman’s career as a fake academic was over. But it was far from the last time that he’d find himself on the wrong side of the law.

In fact, the later chapters of Hogue’s life are littered with arrests and petty crimes. In 1997 he was picked up while trying to steal a bike in Colorado. Two years later, a filmmaker began work on a documentary, Con Man, about the imposter’s grand schemes. And by the time it came out in 2003, its star had already been taken into custody again on multiple occasions.

As the years passed, Hogue’s criminal urges showed no signs of slowing down. And by 2006 he’d amassed a vast amount of robbed goods — some of which, such as antlers and stuffed animals, were downright bizarre. Once more, he was shipped off to prison before being freed in 2012. Then, four years later, rangers in Aspen would stumble upon the next chapter in this unlikely tale.

By then, Hogue was living as a transient in a makeshift shack in a forest. After the authorities discovered and dismantled his home, he stole tools and returned to build another shack – a decision that ultimately led to his arrest. Figuring out his identity, police followed a trail to yet more stolen goods, along with some $17,000 in cash. And for the fifth time in the dedicated conman’s life, he was behind bars. Today, he reportedly remains there, no doubt plotting the next bizarre escapade in his strange and puzzling life.