The Andy Warhol Diaries

by Andy Warhol

  Saturday, May 31, 1980

  I was working at home. I watched a good old movie about skating with Dick Powell. It wasn’t really about skating but it had everybody skating. It was so cute, it looked just like the Roxy. Skating was so big in the early forties, I guess, but then it died out in the fifties—no, in the sixties, I guess. Everything died out in the sixties.

  Monday, June 2, 1980

  Rupert called and said that it was raining down at his place so he couldn’t bring the prints out, but it wasn’t raining where I was so I didn’t know whether to believe him. I had an appointment to meet Richard Gere for lunch (cab $5.10).

  Barbara Allen was the first to arrive, and then Richard Gere and Silvinha, and the wife of Taki Theodoracopulos that he isn’t really married to yet. Barbara’s trying to arrange a surprise wedding for Taki—have him come over and have a justice of the peace there to marry them. But I thought that Barbara was going with Taki, having an affair with him, so I don’t know how she got to be such good friends with his girlfriend. Oh, and also at the lunch was the psychedelic artist, Mati Klarwein.

  The Japanese guy from Studio Voice was there, and he really is just crazy about me. He wanted me to give him a new name, so I gave him “Chuck Roast.”

  Went to Côte Basque for dinner. I was meeting the commissioner there, because I had to talk to him about doing more posters for the city, more ideas. I had a lot of ideas, but they weren’t (laughs) so good. They sounded better when we were drunk—like a gold pencil sharpener. I think it’s been done already. And Brooke Hayward was at Côte Basque with Philip Johnson. We stayed a little bit talking to her and nobody brought up the terrible TV movie of her Haywire book.

  Sean McKeon came down. He’s a Wilhemina model.

  Wednesday, June 4, 1980—New York—Houston

  We got to Lynn Wyatt’s house, fifty people for dinner, and she had cream of crab soup and then barbecued filet mignon that’d been marinated for twenty-four hours and hot curried fruit and homemade Rice-a-Roni which Joan Quinn who was there said was Armenian-style. And creamed spinach and then this great dessert which was fruit ice cream piled onto a big meringue. And the dinner was for Diane Von Furstenberg and Barry Diller. There were all these crazy people from Dallas and Fort Worth. They were really rich with big rocks and they were really vulgar and funny. Divorced and out for kicks.

  And then after dinner we went into the living room and everyone loved Lynn’s portrait. Diane said she loved it so much that she wanted me to do her kids’ portraits, but I know she doesn’t mean it. And then John Travolta arrived with thirty people. He was going to come to dinner but he wanted to bring thirty people so Lynn had said no. And he’s so good-looking. He had on a black silk shirt and a bright green linen jacket and black pants, and his eyes are so blue. He was with this cute little girl and a lot of bodyguards, and with Jim Bridges, who directed Urban Cowboy. And then there was Debra Winger who’s the female star of the movie, and she’s great, we want to do something with her. She told me about high colonics and that she’s full of shit. Her family was there, and her boyfriend. He was cute, Jewish.

  And Barbara Allen and Jerry Hall were making fun of ladies with jewels right in front of their faces. And Maxime Mesinger the gossip columnist came with John Travolta, too, and she gave him a dinner first. Then we got a ride with Barry and Diane. Barry got mad because Jerry and her sister Cyndy and Fred were so drunk they wouldn’t let him out of the car at his hotel, and he wasn’t in that good a mood anyway, that’s just how Barry is. He told Jerry to shut up and she got really hurt. And Fred was pretending to stick his finger up Jerry and her sister and then sticking it in everybody’s noses.

  Thursday, June 5, 1980—Houston

  We all went to the Cadillac Bar for lunch which has really good Mexican food. And I was sitting with this crowd from Dallas-Fort Worth.

  I met Travolta at lunch again. Got an autograph on a napkin.

  They all have these big Jerry Hall accents. And they all love Jerry because they can talk real Texas with her. We had frogs’ legs and beef and chicken and shrimps, everything barbecued and chilied and guacamoled. And it was so hot out, it was like ninety-five degrees. And the air-conditioning broke down and the Texans say, “Turn up the AC! Maybe you need some freon, Charlie.” And then we went to a few Western shops to get our costumes for the Urban Cowboy premiere.

  We finally got back to the hotel around 5:00. Everyone met in my room. Jerry was wearing a solid gold and rhinestone skintight cowboy suit with matching hat that George Hamilton gave her that he had worn in the Hank Williams movie, and she said that Alana wanted it so badly and he never would give it to her and so not to tell Alana.

  Then we got into a limo and went to the Gay Lynn theater, it was named after Lynn Wyatt. And there were thousands of paparazzi and fans because they’d never had a world premiere in Houston before. And they were screaming, “Andy! Andy! Andy Warhol!” And Jerry and I were posing for pictures. And then Jerry and Lynn Wyatt were standing in front of the theater with the TV crew and Lynn was becoming like Barbara Walters: “And now we have the famous artist, Andy Warhol, and Jerry and Cyndy Hall who’re stars in the movie, and say, Jerry, where’d you get that costume?” Very professional, she was wearing purple suede with her great figure. And we got in the theater and sat down and in front of us were Liz Smith and Iris Love in matching cowgirl outfits. And Liz’s brother, because Liz is from Texas.

  And Diane Von Furstenberg was walking up and down the aisles like she owned the place. She was wearing tight pants and a little top and a vest with a little sheriff’s badge that said “Disco Sucks.” And then she was wearing two tons of diamond and gold jewelry from the forties. And Barry Diller was sitting right behind us, and then in walks John Travolta with a thousand people around him, and he sat down right behind us, and everyone was going crazy with the photographers and stuff, and we were all jumping in with our cameras. And then the movie started and everyone loved it.

  Afterwards we took our limo to Gilley’s where they shot the movie. We left one second early so we got there before the mob (tip $20 to the driver).

  There was a mob scene around where Barry Diller and I were sitting because John Travolta sat down two inches away. His eyes are just like—dyed—blue-green. I mean, really deep blue. And he has the most beautiful smile. His teeth must be polished every day. And his skin is beautiful. And he’s so nice. And he says nice things to everyone. And he was talking the most to this girl he thought was with us, but she was a DVF groupie. And Diane is so desperate to be recognized that if one person says, “You’re Diane Von Furstenberg, I love you,” she says, “Come with me,” and she makes them follow her around for the rest of the night so that she can have a following, and then she gives them presents—she carries lipsticks and compacts with her to give out, and she autographs them.

  And, well, once Travolta was at our table it became really impossible because the crowd just pushed in on us, and this policeman was standing right behind trying to protect us, and he was drunk, the policeman, and I said, “Don’t look now, Bob, but you have a big gun and a big cock one inch from your neck.” And the policeman said, “Can I do anything for you?” and Bob laughed and said, “Just stay right here.” And he did. And he had two guns in his holster, very good-looking, and he kept hugging us and bumping into us and rubbing his cock against us and saying, “Is there anything you need, anything you want?” But he was great because he kept screaming to the waitress and got all this food for us. The whole table. And all these drinks, and beer. And he said, “You’re not eating your pepper,” to Bob, and Bob said, “Are you kidding? It’s so hot, I only took one bite,” and he said, “Well, I’ll just show you how to eat a pepper,” and he took the whole big thing and slipped it in his mouth and ate it and then winked at Bob.

  I was the second biggest star after John Travolta. But a distant second. He got the most fans after him. They were screaming on the stage that everyone was going to have to leave if they didn’t let John
Travolta have some room.

  Got home around 1:00. Started to read Princess Daisy, it’s an awful book, but they mention me in it, so it’s something for the box. It said Daisy was too chic to go to an Andy Warhol party in London.

  Saturday, June 21, 1980—New York

  A lady from Arizona—someone Edmund Gaultney had arranged—was coming to the office about a portrait (cab $5). She turned out to be a beautiful girl and she brought her one-year-old baby. The baby gave us a really hard time. Babies are so hard to photograph, they never sit still and they’re teething or something so they’re scrunching up their mouths and they’re so cranky and I just hate them. Then Edmund called from Arizona and said that we should do the baby alone, but by then it was over—I’d only done the baby with the mother and the mother alone.

  Dropped Rupert ($5). I glued myself and went to meet Alan Wanzenberg and Stephen Webster, friends of Jed’s. We went to Inagiku. I’ve been having too much wine lately so I stuck to Perrier and had some raw fish. Alan’s an architect working for I.M. Pei. And the other kid’s a lawyer and I gave him the job of contesting our tax assessment because the taxes went from $400 to $12,000 when they combined both Bowery buildings together which they had no right to do, and the place is just a dump so I don’t know why it’s that high.

  Then we went for a nightcap at Trader Vic’s ($25). The headwaiter invited me to his sculpture exhibition next week. Got home about 1:30.

  Sunday, June 22, 1980

  Went to church. Went to meet Rupert and got a lot of work done. Redid some paintings—the church in Cologne, the castle in Bonn, a couple of Germans.

  Thomas Ammann called. He asked me if I wanted to have a business dinner and I said good idea. I worked all afternoon. All the clones were filing into the Underground. They all have mustaches, alligator T-shirts, bluejeans, or the other look is leather pants and jackets and sunglasses.

  Barbara Allen called for who was around and available for what. I told her Thomas Amman was in town and so she called him and got invited to dinner.

  Cabbed to Mr. Chow’s ($4). We were kind of late and Thomas was mad at us. Ran into Rita Lachman on the way in with her ghostwriter for The Rita Lachman Story. They sat next to us. Alan Wanzenberg the architect and Stephen Webster the lawyer were there, and Barbara and Fred and Jed and some other girl. Barbara sat next to me and I kept telling her to bring Bill Paley down for a portrait. Then I happened to mention that Truman said he was writing a piece on Babe Paley, and then Barbara said she wanted to read it to make sure that it wouldn’t offend Mr. Paley. She’s so ridiculous. She said Mr. Paley gave her something, something really great, but she wouldn’t say what—she had each of us confess something, and after we did, she still wouldn’t tell us. She had a whole bottle of sake to herself. She said she’s madly in love with Mr. Paley, that he’s the only man she loves. But then she was falling for Thomas because she knows Bianca’s so hot for him.

  Monday, June 23, 1980

  Got up at 8:00 and watched the Today Show. The new girl is too pretty, I like Jane Pauley better. She’s off getting married to the “Doonesbury” Trudeau guy who won a portrait by me in a society contest and we kept stalling him and finally he came up and he wore a hat and scarf and I just did a little nothing portrait because I didn’t realize who he was.

  And I screamed at Ronnie because he got three forty-five-minute phone calls.

  Tuesday, June 24, 1980

  What’s happening with Richard Pryor? Are the burns getting better or worse?

  Worked till 6:30. Fred went up by subway to the Mitzi Newhouse Theater where Bob Wilson’s play was opening. Curious George. When I got to the theater Fred was there waiting with Katy Jones and her sister. The art-world people were there. The play had water coming from the ceiling, clocks on the walls telling you what time it was and striking. It was colored beautifully, the set’s by Bob Wilson. It took at least two hours and then it was over.

  The party afterwards was at Leo Castelli’s. We were the first ones there. The food was good but Chris Makos said I looked fat, and then I looked over at Fred who never eats and stays looking so good, so I just had one cucumber and water, and I mixed and mingled.

  The Knowles boy, the star of the play, sounds so normal when you talk to him, you wouldn’t know he’s autistic. He answers whatever question you ask, but I guess the problem is he never says anything if you don’t ask him. I talked to Jennifer Jakobson about Mr. Ballato dying. He was in his eighties. He worked at the restaurant till the last minute, he loved the business so much.

  Fred tried to get Katy Jones to leave but she’s after Bob Wilson so she didn’t want to. We all waited for Bob Wilson so we could go in his limo. Richard Weisman was there with Patti LuPone and she was thrilled when I introduced her to Bob Wilson. She got a Tony, and she was asking me what she should do with her career and I told her to hang on and stay with Evita for as long as she could because she was the only big star on Broadway and she would become so huge from it. She said yes, that I was right.

  Bob Wilson kept going to the bathroom a lot and coming back depressed. He dropped me and Katy. And as I was getting out of the car he was saying things like, “Take hold of my hand.” And afterwards I pieced it together, that when he was saying words like, “Do you think—do you think—” that he was wanting to know if I thought he was using Christopher Knowles, exploiting him by starring him in plays because he’s autistic. Got home at 2:00.

  Wednesday, June 25, 1980

  A creep who kept writing me letters came up and Vincent told him I was doing an interview but he refused to leave, so I mean I knew right away that he was a creep because normal people don’t do that, insist. Right? I was giving an interview to the Miami Star.

  Chris Makos called from his darkroom. I want to go around town with him taking pictures. Nobody’s done 42nd Street and the Statue of Liberty in a while.

  Then, when we were leaving the office and we’d locked the elevator and we were getting ready to leave, as I was walking by the middle room the creepy kid who’d come up earlier jumped out from behind a crate. I mean, that’s why I always tell Vincent to check around, because people can really hide behind things. And later Adam Robinson from Oxford who’d stopped by and who was still with us said that he’d seen the box move, but hadn’t told me. So this kid was hiding behind the box while I was giving the interview to the Miami paper. He said it was “Performance Art.” I mean, I could tell he was a creep from the beginning. Somehow Vincent got him out, but I was really rattled. We left, and I dropped Rupert at 7:30 ($5). When we were crossing the street to get the cab, Rupert and me, a cab stopped and it was Hiram Keller waving and I had to go kiss him in the cab and he looked absolutely beautiful, like the day we met him, gorgeous and full of life, and I just can’t believe he never became a big star after Satyricon. Is it because there’s so many beauties now?

  A kid I know from Studio 54 called me up and at first I wasn’t going to take the call but he said he’d had a breakdown in California and that I was the only one he was calling, so I did. He’s going back out to California.

  When I got home I was still tense from the intruder so I had a brandy. And that led to the candy drawer, and that led to the TV all night. I watched the Mother and Daughter Beauty Pageant on TV. And a rerun of Farrah Fawcett.

  Bob Wilson’s play got terrible reviews. And I was watching a rerun of Carol Burnett and those people were just so good, so talented, so funny. I mean, Bob Wilson has an autistic kid and does a few imaginative things, but that’s all. I mean it’s like when you see Carol Burnett you think how nothing a thing like Bob Wilson’s is.

  Thursday, June 26, 1980

  There were some interesting things to look at at the P-B 84 Warehouse on 91st Street (cab $4). Met Stuart Pivar there and saw a lot of paintings. A Liz was sitting there, and there was a Pollock, too. They told me this one painting was by the “boyfriend of Seurat,” but I didn’t know Seurat had a boyfriend. The guys there all wanted my autograph, so I did them.
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  The new issue of the magazine arrived and Godunov looks good on the cover but he looks like a Christopher Street person, I don’t know if it’ll sell.

  Steve Rubell called Barbara Allen and John Bowes-Lyons and then said he was being moved to Atlanta.

  And Joe Dallesandro called Fred for money—I guess he wants to be supported for life—and I screamed at Fred, I told him to tell Joe to ask Paul. Joe wants money just so that he can sit around, I guess, and drink a bottle of Jack Daniel’s a day.

  And Vicky Leacock came by. She’s Ricky Leacock’s daughter. She said that her mother had just died—her mother was a model in the fifties—and that she was going up to Boston to stay with her father. She just came by because she was sort of upset. Her mother’s kidneys weren’t functioning well and Vicky took her to New York Hospital and the people there were awful—they were arguing with each other and while they were bickering Vicky looked and saw that her mother’s eyes were open and staring, and she told the doctor and he said, “She’s dozed off,” and Vicky tried to revive her and then they tried but they couldn’t. Vicky just stayed at the office a few minutes and then she left.

  Friday, June 27, 1980