The Andy Warhol Diaries

by Andy Warhol

  Senator Pell gave Ina a seat on the president’s platform for the swearing-in.

  During the swearing-in a Marine stopped in front of each row and said in a low voice, “The hostages have just left Tehran, in case you haven’t heard.” And there were helicopters everywhere just patroling the sky. And they had bulletproof glass all around the podium.

  Afterwards in the Capitol building by a staircase that said “Senators Only,” we ran into Doria and Ron, so we had all these big helios. And then they got whisked away and we went down another hall and suddenly there was a voice saying, “Andy! Andy!” and it was Happy Rockefeller and she said, “Andy, why don’t you ever come and see those paintings you did of me?” She was in a mink coat. The place was practically empty by then and she had a Marine with a walkie-talkie next to her. We were actually the only people in the whole building without our own marines.

  Listening to the inaugural address you get fired up and I felt like being a Republican. But then when it was over and you looked around at the faces on all the Republicans, I was glad I’m a Democrat—there really is a difference.

  Friday, January 23, 1981—New York

  I glued, had to meet Jill Fuller at Le Cirque for dinner. Le Cirque is the new Republican restaurant, I guess, since I saw Sirio down at the inauguration. My pictures came back, by the way, and at least I got a few good ones of the Reagan kids. I brought Curley’s cute cousin David Laughlin for Jill because I told her that every time we had a date I’d bring her another boy that I thought she might like, one young and rich and beautiful.

  Sharon Hammond was there and she was with a guy who lives in the Dakota and he has a bulldog and the bulldog was having puppies and he picked her up and was rushing her to the vet and one puppy dropped out right on the spot where John Lennon had fallen shot and that puppy died.

  Wednesday, February 4, 1981

  I was sitting around the office with Victor and all of a sudden somebody said, “Look who’s here!” It was Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager. They said they were in the neighborhood. Victor gave them the biggest hug and said that Halston was planning a dinner party for them on Saturday. They said it had to start at 6:00 because they had to be back at the halfway house by 11:00. Steve looked really tan. I don’t know how he got that tan. He was wearing a lot of clothes to hide that he’d put on weight with the prison food. Ian looked really good.

  Friday, February 6, 1981

  Vincent and I had to go up to meet with the Home Box Office people. This came about because a girl who knew Louis Waldon, our star of Lonesome Cowboys, works there and she told Vincent that they were interested in doing something with our cable TV show. Well, we walked in and they started putting me down, it was just like the old days. They started saying things like, “You’re too far out.” And they said, “Middle America doesn’t know who you are.” I was just going to get up and walk out but then I thought, well, you never know who you’ll meet again, and Vincent was getting mad, too, but he was holding it in, too. Finally we got up and left. They just wanted me there so that they could insult me. We went back to the office.

  Saturday, February 7, 1981

  Bob MacBride called and said that John O’Shea had put Truman in a hospital in Miami and did we know anybody down there to check him out of there. John O’Shea was Truman’s roommate before Bob MacBride.

  Tuesday, February 10, 1981

  Got up at 9:00 and they keep predicting a big rainstorm but nothing happened. I stayed uptown because there was a lunch at Le Cirque that Bob was giving—actually it was a free one, from Sirio—and Averil and her husband-to-be, the doctor, Tim Haydock, were going to be there. They’re about to go on a pre-honeymoon to Thailand and Averil wanted to meet Mercedes Kellogg and her husband Fran because he’s friends with the queen of Thailand.

  Because it was a free lunch I forgot to give the headwaiter a tip. I always forget you still have to when it’s free (coats $2). The Kelloggs had just found out this morning that he wouldn’t be getting the Chief of Protocol appointment that he really wanted. Mrs. Annenberg got it. I think Mercedes is the reason they didn’t get it, because she’s Iranian.

  Thursday, February 12, 1981

  Fred was on his way to Europe but then his mother called and said that his father had just died so he went to Texas instead.

  I invited Jon Gould to the Rangers’ hockey game but he said I should have called earlier.

  Friday, February 13, 1981

  Chris Makos said to come to his place at 7:00 to talk about projects and look at photos. He was having Jon Gould over there.

  I worked until 8:00 with Rupert. He dropped me off at Chris’s. We talked about different projects and then went to have dinner at the Coach House restaurant. One of the waiters, it turns out, was the kid who once brought me a drawing of mine he’d bought from somebody who got it at auction at Parke Bernet. But when I saw it, I knew it wasn’t mine, so I wouldn’t sign it, but I told him that if he came by maybe we could think of something to give him instead. It’s a backwards Soup Can and I just don’t remember doing it, although it really looks like I did it. But I don’t remember that kind of paper. And it’s backwards so I would have had to photograph it and then trace it, and I don’t remember doing it. I didn’t do that many drawings and they were all in such a short time. But I mean, if I can’t even really remember … Dinner was good ($300).

  Then Jon Gould had this friend named Lady McCrady who lives on Park Avenue who’s done about twenty children’s books and we went to her apartment and she had a lot of friends there from like Boston schools, and it was like being in the fifties, it was that kind of apartment—all the kids were like ballet dancers and artists and witty, like Jonathan Roberts, the boy who thought of the idea for The Preppie Handbook. The apartment was painted sky. Jon knows most of these kids from some course in publishing that they give during the summer at Radcliffe. Jon had a job at Rolling Stone before he went to Paramount.

  Saturday, February 14, 1981

  Went to an opening at the Gray-Gaultney gallery and as we were leaving we ran into Governor Carey downstairs, and he said that I should tell the mayor to let Christo wrap Central Park in plastic, that it would give lots of Puerto Ricans jobs.

  Sunday, February 15, 1981

  Brigid went home from work on Friday and when she looked around for her cat, Billy, she couldn’t find him. So she ran to the pet store before it closed and bought another cat! Can you believe a person would do that? For $300. Then she brought the new cat home and she heard a meow and opened the closet and there was Billy in a pail, so she returned the new cat.

  My two nieces came over from Pittsburgh and I entertained them for a couple of hours. They look alike. And they look like they did ten years ago, they haven’t aged. Went to church.

  Monday, February 16, 1981

  Got up at 9:00, it was a holiday. Presidents’ Day—they’ve put Washington and Lincoln together and made it on a Monday.

  Fred came in. Nobody asked him about his father’s funeral.

  I worked on Myths—Dracula and the Wicked Witch. I look pretty good in drag, and I thought it would be fun for me to pose for it myself, but Fred said to do myself in drag at a later date, not to use up the idea on this portfolio.

  How do you not get bags under your eyes? I know it’s from water collecting, but oh, I just don’t want to get them.

  Tuesday, February 17, 1981

  Yesterday I was watching a game show, Blockbusters with Bill Cullen, and it was two black guys, a warden and his cousin, against a white girl and the category was “Letters” and the question was: “Andy Warhol is a ‘V.’ “And (laughs) she got the answer right, she said, “Virgin.” And then Bill Cullen said, “That’s right, at fifty-one.” She won $500 and she got it up to $12,000.

  Oh, and I got a letter from Germany written in German about Bad—it was official-looking and the only sentence I can read is so funny: “In this film they kill a man under a Volkswagen!”

  Wednesday, February 18, 1981
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  Doria Reagan came by so that Brigid could teach her how to type up interviews. And then I invited her to stay for lunch. I didn’t see any Secret Service but when Ron came over later to get her he had the five guys.

  Thursday, February 19, 1981

  I wanted to go pass out Interviews but it was too late. I had to meet Christopher Gibbs from England at the office (cab $5.50). Doria Reagan was there, typing away. And they really don’t have one Secret Service guy with her, and she could be with baby. I mean, don’t they care about the possible grandson?

  And Brigid and I are finally going to see Mary Tyler Moore on Monday. She’s trying to change her image so she’s a problem—she didn’t want to wear rich Halstons for the photos, and she didn’t want to come to lunch with the rich Basses and she didn’t want to go to rich Quo Vadis for dinner—she wants us to meet her at John’s Pizza Parlor on Bleecker Street.

  And did I remember to say that Faye Dunaway called the other day? She’s doing Mommie Dearest, playing Joan Crawford, and she wanted to know if I had bought Joan Crawford’s heart pin at that auction and could she borrow it. But I hadn’t. Faye just picks up the phone herself and calls, so she’s fun, so maybe I’ll call her up sometime. I’ll get her number from Ara. She might be good to do a story on. I just saw Hurry Sundown on TV and she was so beautiful.

  I invited Jon Gould to see 42nd Street because he’s looking for ideas for Paramount and I want to suggest Popism to him as a movie, so I brought a copy. Wouldn’t it be great if he got Paramount to buy it? And then I could work on it with him, he knows so much—all these facts and figures and surveys—he’d really be a good person to get to know.

  Cabbed to Wintergarden ($4). From the first row, you can’t see the feet tapping (laughs), you can only see the knees. Then after the show we walked to the Russian Tea Room to meet Chris Makos who’d been to see Sphinx and loved it.

  Monday, February 22, 1981

  Jerry Hall called. She said that poor Mick has been down in Peru with the Herzog movie and it rains all day and he has to sleep on a wet mattress and Jason Robards was taken away with pneumonia to a hospital in New York and now he doesn’t want to go back. And I invited her to lunch with the Basses from Texas.

  When I was on my way home I ran into Alan J. Weberman, the “King of Garbology” who was on the corner making a phone call. I knew who he was because he handed me a resume with all his garbage credits on it. He said he’d just been through Roy Cohn’s garbage and Gloria Vanderbilt’s. I think he began his career with Dylan’s. I was scared that he’d see where I lived so I went in the other direction.

  Finally got home, glued, and walked to the armory. It was Roy Cohn’s birthday party. Black tie. The Mafioso types weren’t in black tie, though. Steve and Ian didn’t come because they didn’t want the publicity. There were about 200 people. Lots of heavies. Donald Trump, Carmine DeSapio, the D’Amatos, David Mahoney, Mark Goodson, Mr. LeFrak, Gloria Swanson, Jerry Zipkin, C.Z. Guest and Alexander, Warren Avis, Rupert Murdoch, and John Kluge. And the reason I’m able to remember so many is because Joey Adams gave a speech where he mentioned everyone in the room.

  I was talking to a guy and I said how terrible it was that they wanted to tear down this beautiful armory and he said he thought it was a good idea because he was in construction. They brought out a lot of cakes—each had one letter that spelled out “Happy Birthday Roy Cohn.” Roy really got the press there, the Times and the Post.

  Monday, February 23, 1981

  Are called and said to meet Mary Tyler Moore at John’s Pizza at 8:30 instead of 8:00 and I decided that I would just stay downtown and work until then.

  Jay Shriver dropped Brigid and me off (cab $10). The place was empty because it was raining heavily. It’s a small place, only about 20’ X 40’. The owner had started to drink, he was nervous because we were coming. They didn’t serve slices, only whole pies. Brigid was still on her diet so she just had Tabs. But the owner was offering her wine and he was showing her the sixty kinds of pizzas and she was going nuts. The temptations were making Brigid weak in the brain. The owner was smashed.

  Mary and Ara came five minutes late and she was really sweet. The juke box was forties Sinatra and it was so loud. The owner had pulled up a chair and was part of the party. He’d had the New York Times review of the place printed on the napkins.

  Well, Mary Tyler Moore is trying to be a new woman. Brigid told Mary she loved her crow’s feet, which she does, but it sounded insulting. Brigid was trying to get the conversation around to plastic surgery but she let it drop there, she didn’t pursue it. And then Brigid said, “There’s only one thing I want to ask you—are you going out with Warren Beatty?” and Mary gulped and Ara gave a funny look, and she said, “Well, ‘going out’ is just, you know, ‘going out.’ “ So that was never answered. Mary looks like an old Barbie doll. She’s perfect—short hair, a beautiful body, like the mother of Barbie. She looks like Doris Day in the fifties. And she eats a lot. And later I noticed she walks fast and never looks at anybody so nobody ever stops her. She’s a dynamo. Then some cops came in to pick up some pizza and they were so good-looking. I asked one of them if he wanted to meet Mary Tyler Moore and ask a few questions. This cop was really cute, he said he used to sing with a group called something like the Passions in the sixties or fifties, and that they had a few hits. He asked her if she wanted to ride on a horse outside and she said yes, that she wanted to right then, but then he got nervous that something might happen to her, so he gave her an honorary police card instead. They were flirting.

  Mary’s studying political science and, I mean, with that voice, she could really be the biggest thing in politics since Ronnie Reagan. She goes to a psychiatrist two or three times a week. And then she got a craving for a hot fudge sundae so I said Serendipity was the best really good place and she liked the idea of that.

  When we walked into Serendipity the whole place hushed—“There’s Mary.” We sat under the lamp that was in my living room thirty-five years ago. I ordered half a sundae and so did Mary and Ara.

  And she’s so “assured of herself” it’s funny. Do you know what I mean? It’s almost comical.

  Monday, March 2, 1981—Paris

  We made a lot of phone calls to see who was in town, and then we got a car and we drove out to Chateau La Hori to this dinner that Bergitte de Ganay was giving for Charlotte Greville and her husband Andrew Fraser. They were there for the hunt. This is where the hunt has gone on since the days of old. Charlotte has forty letters of introduction, she can go anywhere in the world. But now somebody’s trying to outlaw deer hunting in France. They actually let the dogs tear the deer apart. Or they knife them to death, or something.

  During the ride back Fred freaked out and it was just too embarrassing. Everything was normal, and then all of a sudden he was a different person for ten minutes, and then he was normal again. The driver got really scared, though, and almost stopped the car (car $320). And then Fred was complaining that nobody ever is nice to him. Actually, we both were complaining—I felt neglected, too.

  Sunday, March 8, 1981—Düsseldorf

  At the cocktail party at Hans Mayer’s house last night, there were a lot of people I’d done portraits of who I didn’t recognize, so I thought they were potential new portraits, (laughs) Oh God, no wonder people think I’m out of it.

  We had breakfast with Joseph Beuys, he insisted I come to his house and see his studio and the way he lives and have tea and cake, it was really nice. He gave me a work of art which was two bottles of effervescent water which ended up exploding in my suitcase and damaging everything I have, so I can’t open the box now, because I don’t know if it’s a work of art anymore or just broken bottles. So if he comes to New York I’ve got to get him to come sign the box because it’s just a real muck.

  Monday, March 9, 1981—Munich

  Very sunny and very cold. Went to the gallery where they were having a little exhibition of the glittery Shoes, and had to do interviews and pics for
the German newspaper and then we had to go back to the hotel and be picked up by the “2,000” people—it’s a club of twenty guys who got together and they’re going to buy 2,000 bottles of Dom Perignon which they will put in a sealed room until the year 2,000 and then open it up and drink it and so the running joke is who will be around and who won’t.

  It was fun because all the men were really straight and it was fun being out with them. Some of them brought their wives. And it was an eight-course dinner with a lot of different wines during each course. The first food was fresh liver, the goose was just killed in the kitchen and the liver was just taken out and cut into slices and warmed up—half warmed by the heat, and half warmed by the goose. It was delicious, but after you thought about it you wanted to throw up. The second course was soup. Then lobster with baby quail—you got the breast of the little quail, as big as your fingernail. It was really good, but just so sad, like eating the chest of a roach. Then in between courses we had some sherbet and they made it look like Jackson Pollock because they puréed fresh kiwi and strawberries and threw them on a plate. Artistic. Then they had lamb encrusted and it was the best lamb I ever had encrusted.