Saturday, July 03, 2004

ORIGINAL ENTRY: Monday, January 31, 1977--Nashville--New York

Vincent heard that Joe Dallesandro's foster mother died on Long Island last week. This is two weeks after his brother Boddy died, and Joe's still here in this country--he hasn't gone back to Europe yet.

Worked until 7:30. Went to Regine's. Warren Beatty was there looking a little older and heavier. Jack Nicholson was there looking a little older and heavier. Anjelica Huston and Apollonia the model were there. I like Apollonia now, she's really sweet. And Catherine Deneuve was there, who the party was for. Warren was dating Iman, the black model.

Barbara Allen and her beau Philip Niarchos were there and James Brady and the Women's Wear Daily guy, Coady was with a beautiful girl--I couldn't figure out how he would be--and they left early. Barbara Allen came over and told me that Coady had been saying "I have everything here. I hate Jack Nicholson, I hate Warren Beatty, I hate Andy Warhol, I hate Diana Vreeland, and most of all I hate James Brady."

Oh and the food. He also hated the food.

Philip was drinking and getting cuter. Barbara really seems like she wants to get married, I think she wants to have children with him.

Ruth Kligman had called me that afternoon and I told her I was seeing Jack Nicholson and would talk to him about starring in the Jackson Pollock moviez. She asked me if I could take her to meet Jack and I said no. I wouldn't take her anywhere after reading her book. She actually killed Pollock, she was driving him so nuts.

A fifteen-year-old girl Philip knew from St. Moritz was there with her father and she was talking to Philip and Barbara was nervous because when you saw them together you could really see that girls like Barbara and Apollonia had lived--they looked old--and this fifteen-year-old's charms was that she was so young and like a little girls, like she hadn't been used yet.

Jack stopped by the table and I said I was going to send Ruth Kligman's book and he said she'd already called him.

ORIGINAL POST: Monday, January 17, 1977--Kuwait

Visit to the National Museum, there's no history to this place, it goes back twenty-five years. There were like eight rooms, one had three coins in the whole room. Think there was one room that Alexander left some pots in. Alexander the Great--three pots and four coins. A room with yesterday's dresses. More tea and coffee with the director. Just sat there, there was nothing to do. Carred over to see the secretary-general of the Council for Arts for more tea and coffee and ceremony. Dirty handprints on the wall, as if they killed somebody and it was a work of art or something. Guys standing around.

Everybody says the same routine: Where are you staying? How long have you been here? How long will you be here? When are you leaving? When are you coming back?

Carred over to see a rich collector named Fahad al Dabbous. Chubby and cute. He had a lot of paintings around on the wall, some Dalis, one sort of big one, lots of male friends there, most in costrume, a couple of wives. They had drinks there, also--only the rich, remember? A bit spread on table, nothing compared to Iran's big spreads. The men looked fat, but usually in costume you couldn't tell too much. But this one was chubby. He had bought the Marilyn and the Flower prints. He was wearing a girl's diamond-studded watch with a blue face. The Kuwaiti food was greasy--greasy roast.

Bought crab soap ($6). At 8:00 we were picked up by Mr. Bater, who was the cultural attaché from the United States to Kuwait, and taken to see the American Ambassador Morandi who was giving us a dinner. His wife was from Seattle, talked so much it drove us crazy. They were Democrats. Dinner was served at 10:00. Left at 12:00, bored. Used the crab soap, it didn't work. Fell asleep in the bathtub. In bed couldn't sleep. Read the Ruth Kligman book again, she was driving Jackson Pollock crazy in the car and that's when he ran into the pole. Gave it to Fred to read.

ORIGINAL ENTRY: Wednesday, January 12, 1977

When I got to 860 a big CBS crew was filming Jamie Wyeth with Arnold Schwarzenegger posing for him for a show called Who's Who. Cabbed up with Jamie and Arnold to a lunch at Elaine's for Arnold's movie Pumping Iron ($5). Stopped at the Ritz Towers, had to wait five minutes for Paulette Goddard to come downstairs. She was wearing all her jewerly and was funny. She said, "If you'd played your cards right, there could have all been yours"-- to me. God, when i think of how many hours Bob and I spent taping her, trying to get the real story of her life out of her for that book Mr. Jovanovich wanted... I mean, if I'd been a big Hollywood star and married to Charlie Chaplin and Burgess Meredith and "Erich Maria Remarque I think I could've come up with a few hot stories.

At Elaine's Delfina Rattazzi was there. She works at Viking now as a reader for Jackie O. Victor was there and Paulette was falling in love with him because she was calculating all the Halstons she could get out of him. Pat Patterson came and sat with us, and Charlotte Curtis from The New York Times was there, too.

Dropped Jamie at the art store ($5). The office was jumping, Vincent was going crazy. Bianca called and said she was having a birthday dinner that night for Joel LeBon who works for Pierre Berge. Potassa the drag queen was at the office in a homemade black and gold fantasy dress and Jamie got fascinated and painted her in the dress with her cock showing. He'll be painting at 86- for about two months. Then Victor got Potassa to pose in the nude. Nenna Eberstadt is now working for us, she was typing up an interview. John and Kimiko Powers came in with a lot of art things for me to sign. Alex Heinrici came by with some acetates.

Worked until 7:00 and then went up to Bill Copley's to sign a painting he'd bought. He'd just made dinner for his little daughter, Theodora. A great dinner--hot dogs, ketchup, Coke, and Vanilla ice cream.

Dropped Fred off at Lee Radziwill's ($2.75). Went to the party for Joel. Bianca was wearing the same dress she wore the last time--it's strange to see girls who really dress up wearing the same thing twice.