“So if we can float that, you can say Muffie Potter Aston wants a fourth term for Michael Bloomberg”—said Muffie Potter Aston at the home of Christine and Stephen Schwarzman, cofounder of the Blackstone Group, one of the world’s largest private-equity firms. (WWD)
“I feel as if there’s a grand dinner party and everyone was invited, but I’m the only one who showed up.” Aladar Marberger has AIDS.”—Vanity Fair story from 1987 by Michael Shnayerson. Soon after he found out his diagnosis, “Marberger called friends and colleagues to tell them the news. He was on the phone for sixteen hours. Soon after, he turned over management of the gallery to an assistant. He rented an oceanfront home in the Hamptons last summer for $30,000 and threw party after party. He appeared in local newspapers denouncing the secrecy and fear that shroud AIDS still. Elaine de Kooning painted a series of portraits of him; a band of independent filmmakers did a documentary about him. Only his dentist reacted adversely. When Marberger explained his condition, with a bib on in the chair, the dentist drew back, pleading that for the sake of his children he couldn’t clean Marberger’s teeth. Enraged, Marberger threw a chair through the reception window on his way out.
A primer on Anna Wintour, artistic director, courtesy of WWD
Today, David Carr has a very good column on Anna Wintour’s outsize influence at Conde Nast - “Wintour’s Reign Extends Beyond Vogue" - since she was named artistic director in March. Below, some of the more extensive WWD stories on Wintour’s new role:
In December, WWD reports on Conde’s plans to name Wintour artistic director.
In March, she was officially named to the position: “Anna Wintour Expands Reach at Condé Nast.” Pull quote: “We’re not all friends here,” said another insider. “This is a competitive building. We use the same photographers. We compete for the same celebrities.”
A couple of days later, editors raised more questions. Pull quote: “She’ll do what she always does, which is what she wants to do.”
A month later, in June, Wintour claimed her first scalp, Brandon Holley: “There’s not much room for discussion” when Wintour’s involved, a source said.
And in August, she claimed her second. “For some editors at Condé, [Klara] Glowczewska’s exit cast Wintour’s new outsize influence in sharp relief because for years the veteran editor had been untouchable, a protégé of Wallace who was immune to reprisal.”
“I don’t know why we bothered doing it,” Mr. Leedom said. “We went up and back the same day. We did it in a gazebo in a park, just the three of us, no witnesses, no nothing. How we found the man who performed it, I have no idea.”
“But I remember the gazebo to this day,” Mr. Cott said.
”—it’s hard to pick the most gorgeous moment from this story about a couple that’s been together 58 years.
“There was an ugly side to McKinsey’s caste system: Henry Golightly, a New York-based consultant, was run out of the firm when it was discovered that he was homosexual. Truman Capote, a friend who at times stayed over at Golightly’s Hamptons beach house, named his Breakfast at Tiffany’s heroine after the consultant, who was placed on ‘medical leave’ when the details of his private life became known”—An amazing parenthetical in Duff McDonald’s new book about McKinsey & Company
“THE pre-party began at 9 p.m. in Bertho Makso’s room at the Bella Riva Suite Hotel, and by 9:05 p.m. the air was awash in cologne, hair spray, cigarette smoke and gossip about the night ahead. Would a certain 20-something from West Beirut be at the beach party? Had the two men from Cairo arrived yet? Was the cute D.J. from Bardo, a gay bar here, going to be spinning? And did anyone need condoms?”—
It’ll be a useful read following a report today from the BBC News magazine about the new international capital of gay glamour, Karachi, Pakistan.
"Underground parties, group sex at shrines and "marriages of convenience" to members of the opposite sex are just some of the surprises that gay Pakistan has to offer." Nuclear weapons and group sex at shrines, what don’t they have in Pakistan.
But there’s more!
"Danyaal, as he’s asked to be known, is a 50-something businessman who lives in an affluent part of Karachi, and uses his smartphone to organise Karachi’s gay party scene." Be still my heart.
Aaaaand, wait for it!
"Families go to the Abdullah Shah-Ghazi shrine to honour the holy man buried there and to ask for God’s blessings, but it is also Karachi’s biggest cruising ground." H-o-t. It sounds just like the meat rack in fire island.
You heard it from the BBC first. Karachi, the new new Provincetown of the Muslim world. Someone make the travel section aware of this development.
“In 1965, Mr. Sarria proclaimed himself the first Empress of San Francisco and founded a gay rights organization called the Imperial Court de San Francisco (playing off a tradition of comically exaggerated royal titles among gay men)”—drag queen’s death occasion for the times to explain camp
They put a lot of dead people on the cover, and that’s because they sell way more than the Taylor Swifts and Justin Bieber’s of the world. The pattern is, an issue flops, a dead celebrity follows. For example,
the pull quote should really be this most devastating synopsis of 2009: “I remember when I emailed Kim France, asking if there was any caption writing work in Lucky magazine. And I didn’t. Even. Hear. Back. So, dark times.”
Ps - where is Kim France now? Someone should find her. She probably has a pretty good postfiction book in her.
“WHO DO I HAVE TO SLEEP WITH AROUND HERE TO GET A STOLI MARTINI WITH A TWIST OF LEMON????”—
I hope you are all ready for the avalanche of Blue Jasmine GIFs when the movie’s out on video.
that’ll be just one small sign of progress until the drag queens of america finally wake up to the untapped potential of cate blanchett’s mostly unhinged, make-up smeared, she-has-had-it body of work. think back: elizabeth, the way she said meredith logue in talented mr. ripley, fighting crazy with crazy in notes on a scandal.
“GQ reader asks: “I seem to recall that the color of a guy’s bandanna, in gay culture, corresponds to certain sexual fetishes. I use bandannas as pocket squares. Am I inadvertently sending the wrong message?”—
“2001: “[Ken Kurson’s] cubicle is enlivened by photographs of a pig, the rock relic Sammy Hagar and a National Rifle Association placard saying, ”Charlton Heston Is My President.”—“‘What can I say, Second Amendment,’ says Mr. Kurson, ruffling through his red-dyed hair, now fading, which he colored to celebrate being named Mr. Giuliani’s co-pilot.” - New York Times. The things you bump into.
“He was, without question, the best looking man at the party, blonde and in his mid-twenties, with a winning smile and pale blue eyes. When he excused himself to fetch Geffen a Bud, another guest sidled up to the billionaire.
“Your date is spectacular,” the guest said.
“At these prices,” Geffen replied, smiling, “he’d better be.”—
Maer Roshan wrote this in 1997 for New York about the then new generation of trophy boys, dubbing them, of course, “the Velcro mafia.” It is due for an update. You’d think in these days when hip, millenial flacks and editors can finagle liquor sponsorships for their summer shares, the kept trick would be a thing of the past. Who needs a sugar daddy when you’ve got Svedka vodka paying for your booze?
But the tradition is still going strong. Nick Gruber is back with Calvin Klein. He was going to write a tell-all about the designer, but decided a live-in situation would be more lucrative. “I didn’t want to hurt someone that I truly love,” he told the Web site Daily Front Row. Trophy twinks were everywhere in Fire Island this weekend - at the new Pavilion, Instagramming selfies at the drag queen invasion, bathed in glitter at Daniel Nardicio’s underwear party, dropping ‘Mean Girls’ references in their Orlebar Brown trunks.
My favorite interaction was at a pool party on Ocean and Ozone. Silvio - let’s call him that because I totally don’t recall his name - is rail thin, tanned, wearing microscopic red speedos and Ray Bans. Silvio started talking to me because he thought I was his age and would have similar interests. He was crestfallen to find out I was 26, a reaction similar to another guy’s during middle tea who told me, “TWENTY SIX???? That’s SO old.” When he found out we were apparently generations removed, Silvio started telling me about himself. It was his first time at the Pines. He’s 19, of Mexican descent, and lives in Austin Texas, where he studies at a Cordon Bleu school there. He hadn’t learned any recipes yet though - he still only knew how to cook “Mexican things” his grandmother taught him. He’d been flown in all the way from Texas by some guy in his early 40s he pointed out across the pool vegetating on a deck chair. He pointed out another young guy, 22, slicked-back, jet-black hair, who was splashing around in the pool with another even older man. They started dating recently and just two weeks later the 22-year-old found himself with room and board in Fire Island.
Silvio was delighted with his deal, and this part I remember verbatim. "I’ve always been attracted to older men ever since I lost my virginity to an older guy when I was 17. He was 23."
Behind the scenes, editorial control of the magazine was slipping from the editor’s hands. Wintour started spending more time at the magazine — several times a week — and was involved in every aspect of production, even attending run-throughs, several sources said. While Holley was nominally in charge, Wintour brought in Chen, whom she had flagged as a rising talent at Teen Vogue, in April as a consultant who would function as her conduit there.
“She was someone who would be a translator for Anna, and represent her vision in the magazine,” a source said. “[Chen] was involved in everything from copy to design.”