The Andy Warhol Diaries

by Andy Warhol

Did I tell about Jay Johnson’s cat dying? He picked her up and she was just—dead. This was Harriet, the kitten Jane Holzer gave Jade Jagger for Christmas. Jay felt so bad.

  Friday, March 31, 1978—New York—Houston

  To Houston for a show of my Athletes portraits at Frederika Hunter and Ian Glennie’s gallery.

  The gallery was big and beautiful, in an old compound, and Ian had designed its space.

  Monday, April 3, 1978—New York

  Tom Sullivan came by with Margaret Trudeau in a red dress and we picked up Catherine and then we went to Studio 54 for the Academy Awards party that Polaroid was giving, that Truman Capote and I were the hosts of.

  I’m never going to let my name be put on a party again because all it does is get you in trouble with the people you forget to invite or who don’t get in for some reason. The invitations got all screwed up. I mean, a hand-delivered invitation from me to myself arrived at the office in the afternoon.

  We went upstairs and found Truman sitting on the landing on the couch and we went to see Mick and Jerry and Diana Vreeland with George Trow and Margaret and Tom.

  Danny Fields was next to me and he had a great idea for a movie like Saturday Night Fever, about a boy who’s straight but wants to be the best faggot in town because he sees all the fags having such a good time and he thinks it would be more fun. It’s the Ronnie Cutrone story.

  I hated the Awards, I hated the whole thing. I hated every nominee and I hated everything that won. I must be really out of it. But nobody good like John Travolta won. I mean, Richard Dreyfuss? I mean, if he’s a sex symbol, I don’t know what the world is coming to. And there was Vanessa Redgrave doing her same stupid Communist routine up on stage that she did for us at 860 once. And I can’t stand Woody Allen movies. I guess that says something. I ran into Jim Andrews of Polaroid. Yul Brynner was there, and Eric Clapton, and I kept looking for Doc Cox but I didn’t see him. Bob came and told us that all the people who counted were down in the basement—Halston and Apollonia and Tom Sullivan and Margaret and Barbara Allen with Ryan O’Neal who’s in town shooting Oliver’s Story with Candice Bergen. I introduced Ryan and Margaret, and she seemed interested. I told her that Paris Match wanted her to do photos for them, to work for them, but she said she didn’t like Paris Match, that it was (laughs) too gossipy.

  Bob thinks that Stevie threw away the list of old people we gave him to invite, because Aileen Mehle—“Suzy”—and Ahmet and Mica had been cold to him and he found out they hadn’t gotten their invitations. And after this party with everybody mad at us, we’ve hit rock bottom.

  Halston might want to rent Montauk.

  And let’s see, who else was there? Sylvia Miles, Earl Wilson, Mariel Hemingway, Brooke Shields and her mother, Maxime, Lily Auchincloss, Géraldine Smith and Liz Derringer, David Johansen, PH, Steve Paul, Tinkerbelle, Glenn O’Brien and his girlfriend Cheryl, Charles Rydell, Clarisse Rivers, Roz Cole, Steve Aronson, Chris Makos, Robert Hayes, Earl McGrath, Richard Bernstein, Andrew Wylie, Peter and Sandy Brant, Joe Allen and his girlfriend, Jed, Jay, Ed Walsh, Gael Malkenson, Jackie Rogers and Peter Marino and Eduardo Agnelli.

  Tuesday, April 4, 1978

  Louis Malle called and asked if I was coming to the screening of his movie, Pretty Baby.

  There was only one mention in the papers about the party, in Earl Wilson’s column. And it didn’t even mention Polaroid. I think all those Polaroid guys are going to get fired there for spending $30,000 on a party like that. And Interview will probably lose all their ads. Swifty Lazar’s Oscar party got all the big mentions. Bob should have made sure Liz Smith was invited, and Rex Reed. And now that I’m thinking about it, I bet the reason all the society people didn’t show up was because it was given by Truman! They’re probably all mad still at him.

  I went home and glued and Barbara Allen called and said she didn’t have anyone to go to the screening of Louis Malle’s movie, Pretty Baby, with, so she picked me up at 7:45. We cabbed to the Paramount building in Columbus Circle ($2.50). The screening was a lot of well-to-do famous people. Frank Yablans thanked me for all the nice things he heard I’d said about his movie, The Other Side of Midnight, but I was only kidding. Brooke Shields was there and Mariel Hemingway. Barbara met Baryshnikov and had him sit next to her and she dropped me for him. She asked me, “What’re you doing later?” And when I said going home, she said (laughs), “Great.”

  It was a cute idea for a movie, but nothing comes off—like they had pickets picketing against the sin in New Orleans, but nothing happened because of it. Afterwards a friend of Louis Malle’s came up and said that Louis really wanted to know what I thought and I said it was “wonderful,” “interesting,” “strange.” Then we had an exciting elevator ride down because it was Baryshnikov, Barbara, Milos Forman, Frank Yablans, Diane Von Furstenberg. And Milos was peeking under Baryshnikov’s jacket—“looking for the little girl.” And Baryshnikov has such a great body but his hair is so funny. He wears it puffy, one of those bubble hairdos. He should get a haircut that makes him look more masculine with his good Russian face.

  Wednesday, April 5, 1978

  Victor came by and pissed on some drawings for me. Gave Ronnie money ($2) for papers at the newsstand to check if the Polaroid party was ever covered. Actually, everyone was calling to say it was a great party.

  Thursday, April 6, 1978

  Marguerite Littman and her husband Mark who’s the queen of England’s lawyer came to lunch. Doc Cox brought them in his Rolls Royce. Then Billy Kluver, and Julie Martin and Lucy Jarvis came up. They brought a Negro guy named Chris who they want to back a musical of my life (coffee $.76, $1.89). Fred had invited Regine and Diana Vreeland had had a lunch date with Regine, so she came along, too. Diana didn’t know who Doc Cox was, so she thought he was the one to be nice to, so (laughs) she missed the point. She kept asking Regine, “Tell me, why am I being nice to this man?”

  Billy Kluver had told me that Chris was a “scientist,” but it didn’t seem like it. He was fascinating. He started at seventeen, whatever he does. He told me about owning beachfront property in California. He said he had a coffee business in Brazil, but I don’t know, it sounded like smuggling. I mean, a couple of good cocaine loads and you’ve made a few million. He looks so young, and anything you mention, he’s “thinking of buying it.” He said he wanted to buy Radio City Music Hall and turn it into the world’s largest discotheque. That would be such a great idea. New York needs the world’s biggest discotheque.

  Then Tom Sullivan arrived and this Chris made Tom seem like peanuts. Then Gianni Agnelli came in and Chris said he was thinking of buying Fiat, so I went over to where Gianni was talking to Regine and Diana and said that I had a buyer for Fiat and his ears perked up. The two of them went over into a corner, but then (laughs) Gianni left really fast.

  Then Tom Sullivan pissed on some paintings for me and left.

  Doc Cox was thrilled, talking to Regine and Diana and then meeting Gianni Agnelli.

  Saturday, April 8, 1978

  I’m still looking for a way to paint the BMW. David Whitney said why didn’t I get one of those paint rollers that you roll flower designs on the wall with, so I went to paint stores and finally one place could have one for me on Monday, so I’ll send Ronnie up (cabs $2.00, $2.15, $1.60).

  Bob said let’s take Mick and Jerry out and entertain them, and so we invited them for dinner at La Grenouille. We had a good time, we got drunk (dinner $320). Then we went with Mick back to the Pierre because he wanted to take his sneakers off—why is everybody wearing sneakers? Why don’t they make them in dark colors so they could be dress shoes, they’d be so comfortable. Jerry complained that the Pierre made a big point of calling her Miss Hall all the time, and finally she and Mick were deciding that they should really go to a new place. Because Mick had always been at the Pierre with Bianca. It took them long enough to figure that out. Anyway, they’re going to move to the Carlyle.

  Mick wanted us to hear his new record, and we were going to br
ing it over to Studio 54 but it was at Earl McGrath’s house, so we went over there (cab $4). Jann and Jane Wenner were there and Stephen Graham who had something wrapped in foil in his pocket. It looked like drugs, but it turned out to be a Rice Crispie cookie.

  We went to Studio 54 and when we got there it was already so late, I didn’t realize it. And Jane and Steve Graham had said they would do anything for a Quaalude so I got some from Steve, but then I got scared—I’m never going to do anything like that again. It’s bad image. And by the way, Bob says he saw me put a little coke on my gums when we were in Mick’s room, but I didn’t really. I mean, my finger was in my mouth, but, uh … okay, so I didn’t leave there until 4:00. When I got home the dogs woke up and started barking, and so they notified Jed what time I was coming home.

  Monday, April 10, 1978

  Mr. Ballato is in the hospital and they’re operating on him tomorrow. He’s lost fifty pounds in a month and they don’t know what’s wrong with him. He said New York Hospital was so bad to him. He went in for tests and when they were over he had a black eye. His wife is running the restaurant.

  Tuesday, April 11, 1978

  Watched the Today Show with Gene Shalit interviewing Fran Lebowitz in the morning and waited for the word Interview but she only mentioned Mademoiselle, and it’s not like she isn’t calculating enough to work it in if she wanted. Gene Shalit thinks she’s hysterical.

  And then Averil Meyer came to the office because she wanted to meet Ruth Carter Stapleton who was coming with Dotson Rader at 3:00 (cab $4). But they didn’t get there until 4:00.

  Brigid was offended that Dotson said “fuck” and “shit” in front of Ruth, and she said, “There’s nothing left to respect in life if he can say that in front of the president’s sister. It just shows you that Nixon should be back in the White House.” And Ruth Carter Stapleton was sweet, and Dotson was disgusting as usual. She wanted a Polaroid of us and naturally there weren’t any bulbs, so Ronnie went out to get some and Vincent took a Polarvision movie and showed it and that was the entertainment. I gave her a Bad T-shirt.

  And the guy from the hamburger place came by. I’m doing a portrait of a hamburger, Frank Fowler got me the job. I can’t remember the name. Not McDonald’s, not Burger King, not Wendy’s, not Wetsons—something else.

  Toni the girl I met from High Times magazine and her girlfriend Carole were picking me up in a limo at 8:30. So I waited until 10:00 and finally they arrived, then we picked up Brigid. I wanted to tape them and see if I could make a play out of it. Toni was wearing a T-shirt of two guys making it.

  Well, we went down to 10th Street between First and Second to Princess Pamela’s restaurant, something like that. Carole was in a fur coat. We rang the doorbell and Princess Pamela answered, a colored lady in a bright red wig. She looked like a drag queen, so you get the idea. They’d expected us at 8:30. Well, we went up the stairs to the second floor and there was nobody else in the place but two Negro girls, waitresses—entertainers. It was three little rooms and a white piano in one room. And the two girls were about thirty-five and sort of intelligent, but like black Valerie Solanises. It was a restaurant with readings in between courses. The place started out fifteen years ago, and Craig Claiborne gave it a couple of stars in 1966 when it was on the ground floor. And they had pictures of Norman Norell on the wall and he’s dead already of throat cancer, probably from eating there. I thought I heard her say something about Idi Amin flying over from Paris once for a party at her place but I don’t know, that I may have heard wrong.

  Toni and Carole—all they talk about is 1966. I kept asking them what happened between ‘70 and ‘75, and they were off drugs, I guess, so they said, “Nothing.”

  The princess put on a gown and was singing, and she brought in a 2’ X 1’ peach cobbler made out of a canned peach and it was so sad because nobody had been there, it wasn’t even cut into. She said, “I made it just for you.” And I didn’t want to eat it, so to make it look used, I put it on Brigid’s plate, and Brigid gave me one of her mean “Honey” looks, like her mother Honey gives her, and said how dare I. And the princess had a brochure about the place that had something about Joe Franklin in it.

  Brigid was just in love with the place, you know how overboard she goes. She’s going to start going there all the time. And then I couldn’t take it anymore, I just had to leave, so I went downstairs. Toni paid the bill.

  Wednesday, April 12, 1978

  Suddenly TV cameras arrived to photograph me painting the model of the BMW car I’ll be painting later on. Well, it was a mess. I was going to roll the paint on with a roller with the flowers on it, and I was going to do it in pink and black but then Chris Makos had me change it to yellow and black, and I started to roll it on, and the paint was shiny and it slipped, and it wouldn’t stick to the car model, and Victor Bockris was there and I rolled it on him, but it was a bust. Leo Castelli came by and almost got sick, it was such a mess.

  Thursday, April 13, 1978

  Interview lost the Halston centerfold ad, maybe. For weeks someone’s been telling me it’s on the way, and then yesterday they called and said they didn’t know anything about it, so we don’t know. Victor’s so out of touch with the Halston house now. Stevie is Halston’s new best friend —he’s over there every night instead of going to work at Studio 54. Victor always said that you did have to watch Halston—that he could turn on you—that you had to stay more unattainable and that would make it more glamorous for him.

  The best thing that happened was a kid arrived with a singing telegram for Marc Balet’s birthday, but Marc wasn’t there yet, so they came to get me to show me. He had a red uniform and it said “The Singing Messenger.” I asked him for a free sample and he sang “I’m So Glad You Came Out of the Closet Today,” which he said is one of their most popular songs, so that was funny.

  Friday, April 14, 1978

  Went with Richard Weisman to the Hotel Americana for a banquet for the Yankees. The master of ceremonies was Howard Cosell, and they marched the whole team in. Everyone was trying to get Reggie Jackson’s autograph. And it was funny because Averil Meyer’s grandmother, Mrs. Payson, owns the Mets, and Averil kept saying, “I own the Mets,” and everybody thought she was crazy. She wrote Yogi Berra a note and passed it on toward him, but someone didn’t pass it along and so she got up and went and took it back. He used to be with the Mets. The note said something like: “Remember when you bounced me on your knee, then gave me a hot dog in the dugout?” And Mickey Mantle got his award—that’s what it was for. And Howard Cosell was introducing people from the dais and he introduced me, he called me a Pop artist—I guess Richard is pushing to get the paintings sold.

  I talked to Suzy Chapstick and she said that she’s noticed that most girls who get famous are tomboys when they’re little, and I said that I’d been a tomboy.

  And then at the office there was the big problem with Halston. He called Fred to say that Victor’s been going around saying that if Halston didn’t pay us the money he owes for the paintings he bought from us, that he, Victor, would repossess them and sell them to Elsa Peretti. Halston asked Fred if we’d put Victor up to it. Fred said no. And Halston’s fired everyone at the house —Lorenzo and the maid, too. All since last weekend. And he’s having trouble with his line, he can’t work, he’s been so upset. The other night in the basement at 54 there was a huge fight that Elsa started—she was attacking Stevie and calling everybody faggots and it was really bad, I guess. I wasn’t there. Bob finally got her to leave with him. It’s enough to make you want to stay home for the rest of your life. She was smashing glasses and everything. So between Victor and Elsa, Halston’s really a wreck.

  The other big event at the office in the afternoon was when Ronnie opened the door to the bathroom in the conference room—that lock doesn’t really work—and there was Margaret Trudeau sitting on the toilet with her pants down and a coke spoon up her nose. He said, “Excuse me,” and backed out. She’d come down with Tom Sullivan.


  Saturday, April 15, 1978

  I don’t know how to handle the Victor situation. He called and I talked to him on the phone and he was telling me the philosophy his mother gives him, and it’s so great, it’s just like my philosophy, I wish I could remember it all. He follows her advice and creates all these problems —just to make life more interesting. Like, she bought a small apartment house because she didn’t have anything to do and she thought if she could get nervous every month over whether the tenants were going to pay her the rent that that would make life more interesting. Isn’t that great? And Victor says he just makes all these problems in his life just to feel something. I tell him, “Why don’t you just pretend to be nice? You could get along so easily with Halston.” And he says, “I can’t, I have Latin blood. I can’t pretend, it’s nice to fight. It makes it more exciting.” It gets so wild with Victor on the phone.

  Sunday, April 16, 1978

  The gossip from Saturday night at Studio 54 before was that Jack Nicholson came in and Ryan O’Neal was there with Barbara Allen and everyone was trying to keep Jack and Ryan apart so they wouldn’t see each other. Barbara thought it was because of her, but it was the situation with Anjelica—she’s been seeing Ryan lately. And Stevie called and said how hard he worked, that it was so much fun keeping them apart. And Tatum was dancing with Mona Christiansen. And Stevie said that Liza was dying for Marty Scorsese to get back to town, because Baryshnikov just sees too many girls.

  I worked all afternoon and then I watched Holocaust and kept making myself more fresh grapefruit juice and vodka and kept passing out. They gassed the little girl. I was thinking everybody really is in their own little world. They tell you to do something, and you don’t know what’s going on, they’re the ones who know, you’re at their mercy. So maybe the Germans were saying the Jews were really bad so they had to kill them—oh, but then, no, they’d been living together with them so long, they were right next door, so they knew they weren’t bad. But it’s like when you go to a hospital—they take you and they do anything with you, because you don’t know about their world. Or it’s like investing in art, you trust people, or investing in stocks, you don’t know, so you accept what they say is good or bad, or even sports. Or terrorist groups, they’re out in the street handing you things and they’re in their own world.