Superficial

by Andy Cohen

  SATURDAY, MARCH 19, 2016

  Took Wacha to Joe’s and pondered titles for this book. I’ve been thinking about I’m Not Really This Vain, but he said I can do better and he would text me ideas by the end of the day. Considering he came up with the subtitle for my last book (A Deep Look at a Shallow Year) I shouldn’t have been as shocked as I was two hours later as I smoked a joint with Amy Sedaris and received two genius ideas: Artificial Intelligence and Superficial. Somebody give Joe Mantello another Tony.

  #BAS texted that he figured out his thesis stuff and he’s coming. So I guess I got through to him. Richie wants to bartend on WWHL. Integrated an all-black party with Bill again.

  MONDAY, MARCH 21, 2016—THURSDAY, MARCH 24, 2016

  Lots of errands this week getting ready for Bruce’s weeklong fiftieth birthday trip. There were little fits of Housewives drama popping up all week: Kyle texted me during the show the other night that Bravotv.com had posted something crazy about Mauricio; LuAnn’s a little upset about what is going to be said about her relationship on the new season of RHONY. We are working on casting RHOA and RHOP, and just when we were having the discussion about Atlanta, Kim Fields called into a radio show and said she was done with the show. So that answered that question!

  Iggy Azalea was on the show Wednesday and at first I found her a little standoffish, but she was very open and we discussed all of her (many) feuds. SJP’s birthday dinner for Matthew was fun and Matthewesque. It was at Giorgione, right around the corner from the Clubhouse, with Scott, Marc, Hickey, Nathan Lane, Martin Short, and Kenny Lonergan, and I spent most of the night talking to Eric and Nathan Turner about design stuff and Nathan made me terrified that the Mexican sunset–themed guest room is insane but then I turned and asked Eric, who said it’s gonna be great.

  Aunt Judy and Uncle Stanley were here all week, and little Lucy was at the Erica Girardi/Rachel Dratch show and I’m worried it was too dirty for her. Is thirteen too young for a lot of “pat the puss” talk? Took them to see the apartment and realized I got my appreciation for themed rooms from hanging out at Judy and Stanley’s when I was growing up—they had an ice-cream parlor, a room with an Astroturfed floor, a swing on a tree, a fountain, and clouds on the ceiling. Now that I put it in perspective, I’m feeling like having a Mexican sunset room is totally normal.

  FRIDAY, MARCH 25, 2016—SUNDAY, MARCH 27, 2016—MIAMI

  Of course Sarah Jessica was right that I should get Bruce pearls from Mikimoto for his fiftieth. He loved them and wore them all weekend! Only Bruce can butch up a string of pearls. The party weekend for his fiftieth entailed two full days of rosé and people-watching at the Delano pool and a dinner at the Soho House on Saturday night, during which Bruce went around the table and said what each person meant to him with Ava by his side crying and patting her face with a handkerchief. She was like an old lady trapped in a little girl’s body, taking in the deep emotional connections that inevitably she was right in the middle of.

  Liza and I met a very hot straight kid from Rhode Island by the pool, Kyle, with whom we became obsessed. A major flirt, great teeth and hair, a veterinary assistant; also maybe a thuggish womanizing drunk. Basically the total package. We told him he looked like JFK Jr. and he said he was going to take that as a compliment and we said, how else could you possibly take that? We kept saying, “That’s so Kyle!” to each other all weekend. #BAS arrived on Sunday just in time for the Palace, which after much buildup put on a shitacious drag show. One of the worst. Ava was in the middle of it all coloring—you can take her anywhere and she will adapt. I remember Bruce and I being in the last row of a plane home from St. Barts with Ava, who was not even two years old, just calmly asleep all over us, not realizing Daddy had forgotten to bring any snacks. (Veronica Webb was on the flight and rescued us with crackers.) Went to Prime 112, which was as shitty and overpriced as you can imagine. I feel sick thinking of it.

  MONDAY, MARCH 28, 2016—SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 2016—FRENCH CARIBBEAN: ST. BARTS, GUADELOUPE, DOMINICA, SAINT LUCIA, MUSTIQUE

  How novel to actually be part of a couple on a couples’ trip! It was Jason and Lauren Blum, Sandy Gallin and Joel, Bruce and Bryan, and of course Barry and DVF. The headline of the first day in St. Barts was that a big group came to the boat for lunch including Letterman. A paparazzi picture of his beard broke the Internet last week and the first thing out of his mouth was, “Despite what I look like, I’m doing quite well.” And except for that big white Moses bush on his face, he did look very well, actually, Waspy and in shape. I didn’t have any sort of meaningful conversation with him for the two hours that he was there; I was just so tickled, and a little freaked out, to hear his iconic voice from down the table (he was sitting with Steve Martin and Marty Short, who were over from Rising Sun).

  Towards the end of the week we almost got a Mick Jagger sighting in Mustique but were happy with Mark and Kelly and the kids, all celebrating the last few hours of their vacation. Otherwise, we took lots of long swims, slept, slogged through London Spy, ate copiously, hiked, and in talking endlessly about the election, each pledged to find some young candidates to get behind. Bruce and I had several conversations about whether or not I should have a kid. #BAS assimilated with the group brilliantly. I cannot find a single thing wrong with him.

  MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2016—NYC

  Horrible re-entry. Stumbled my way through two hours live on the radio and went to a meeting at Bravo. Vicki and Tamra were in a dune buggy accident and got hurt. I spoke to both of them and was relieved they were okay. What these women have been through on that show!

  Meeting at the apartment about my closet. They have tiles on the walls in the guest bathrooms, but other than that it looks like nothing happened while I was gone. I started to go crazy and ask the non-English-speaking workers if my place would be ready by La Navidad and they seemed to think it would be. Then I said what about el verano and they said yes to that too. But summer could mean August to them. Eric sent a lot of great ideas for my Mexican-beach guest bedroom, like covering the bedframe in Mexican-blanket material. Concurrently I started to get crazy about waiting for the elevator at my temporary building, but then every time it opened it was Victor and there’s no way to be mad at him. By the way, Richie asked to bartend on WWHL a few weeks ago and I guess I said yes, when RHONY premieres. And that’s happening Wednesday night and who knows how that will go.

  Went by Anderson’s premiere to “support him” and finally met his mom, who seemed lovely and delicate, like a beautiful antique vase. I then spoke to Lee Radziwill, who asked where I’d been on the boat and I felt quite comfortable telling her about all the islands—this is a lady who has been island hopping all her life! It was all the great ladies. Marti Stevens (gal pal of Dietrich), who I’d met through Natasha, was there. She said, “Oh, how I miss her,” and I said, “Every single day, right?” Then we talked about missing Joan Rivers too. Also saw Bill Owens and Mary Noonan. Didn’t stay for the doc, which I’d seen (and loved) on the boat. Raced home to get the dog and heard people yelling my name on my corner and I gave a big fake hello and kept walking and a familiar voice screamed, “We’re not your fans!” and it was Cameron Diaz with Brad Cafarelli. I said, “But you are fans! You are and you always have been!” I told her I hadn’t seen her since I thought she’d pooped her pants on Oscar night and we laughed. Coincidentally, I’m interviewing Cameron on Radio Andy tomorrow morning. Full circle.

  Quiet audience at the show tonight. Wacha licked his ass for about twenty minutes, then threw up.

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 2016

  Did a personal appearance for Excedrin. Interviewed Sandy Gallin for the radio. Attended a RHONY premiere party for five minutes, enough time for Teresa to tell me she didn’t like the picture I posted of me with a mustache. I didn’t get past the red carpet. Ramona is “snapshatting.” Literally, that’s what she said to me. Snapshatting. Bethenny was on WWHL. Richie bartended and was as tight lipped on the air as he is loose lipped in the elevator. I couldn’t ge
t him going about the weed dealers in the building and what percentage of residents are on Grindr, so he’s smart—he wants to keep his job. He had a blast. Cameron Diaz was on Fallon and told the story of Gary pooping on the rug, but the punch line for her was that I told her on the street that I thought it’d been her and that was the first she’d heard of it. I guess I’d only thought she pooped her pants and never verbalized that thought. So she and Jimmy had a big laugh about why the hell I would assume that it was her. And why did I? I’m booked on Fallon next week and was going to tell that story and now I’ve got nothing to say!

  THURSDAY, APRIL 7, 2016

  The headline today was actually the headline on the Daily Mail. Someone did some pretty exhaustive Instagram snooping to uncover that #BAS is my fella, and reported extensively about our two times on Barry’s boat and then uncovered his entire biography including reprinting about eight pictures from his Instagram, which he quickly made private. He was slightly traumatized. The issue is that now when you google him, this is the only thing that comes up—he’d had a clean slate on the Internet and now he is famous for dating me and going on Barry’s boat. I asked him what his friends were saying and he said he was getting a lot of texts from people saying they’re sorry, which made me feel awful because I thought the implication was that they feel sorry for him for being associated with me. He said it’s not that, it’s that they’re sorry he’s being put on blast. The comments are of course brutal: making fun of how he wears his hat, my age, both our looks. Gay people are so supportive on social media!

  I have never received more calls, emails, telegrams, etc. imploring me to attend a party as I did today for the one at the Diamond Horseshoe celebrating Naomi Campbell’s book publication. So I went, and of course no one cared that I was there. I got mightily stoned beforehand, though, so it was an adventure. Talked to Naomi (who is sober and has a fucked-up foot, but was in good spirits), Bethann Hardison, Derek Blasberg, Cindi Berger, June Ambrose (some queen came up to her thinking she was Naomi and was going on and on), and Gayle King, who I walked out with.

  Headed to the Polo Bar for a dinner that Jay Sures from UTA put together with Hickey, Jeffrey, Noah from the Today show, this guy from Shark Tank, and Larry Wilmore. It was a sausage factory in there—Donny Deutsch at the table next to us and on the other side Dan Abrams, who, continuing his streak of always going around with hot straight guys, was with Jesse Palmer, who is the hot football guy from GMA, and Rob Marciano, the hot weatherman. Marciano is in fact blindingly hot. Dinner was fun and also maybe weird but maybe that’s because I was high. Got a two-hour massage from Adam after dinner and had the most hilarious phone call with Bruce for the first half hour. We were in hysterics!

  SATURDAY, APRIL 9, 2016—NYC—PHILLY

  Radar Online called #BAS’s dad at home to ask him if he knew his son was at a homosexual yacht party with a man twenty years his senior, which is bad enough but he and his dad have barely discussed his sexuality. I almost cried when he told me. I feel so awful about this—I never ever considered that this would be the consequence of dating me. It just doesn’t seem like a story. It got picked up on gay blogs and because I joked on Stern that I’m a power top, it’s “Total Top Andy Cohen Is Off the Market” with a picture of #BAS. I want to kick the ass of the guy from the Daily Mail who started this.

  Train to Philly. The hotel was very depressing, and it was really hard to get a tea and other assorted meshugas. It was the Ritz, so I was surprised. Anderson was all wound up because his driver forced him to wear a seatbelt in the back seat and it got testy. All day I was getting tweets from women in the area saying they were pregaming, so I knew the audience was going to be very drunky. The show was a smash, sold out and in the most gorgeous theater we’ve played yet, the Academy of Music, which was built in 1857. Anderson thought someone was going to get shot because it was super John Wilkes Booth–y in there. We added new material and it was all wonderful until the questions, which were either comments, which are banned, or really bad questions like “What makes your heart beat?” The meet and greet after was a lot of people. I love working as a team with Anderson; it’s less pressure.

  SUNDAY, APRIL 10, 2016—NYC

  #BAS spent the night with me and it was all good even though he’s famous now. We decided officially once again that we are seeing each other and figured out some rules and guidelines.

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 13, 2016

  I was bumped from The Tonight Show for Ted Cruz. Why is Mrs. Doubtfire always stealing m’ thunder?! Had a conference call with Dan Rather to see if we can get him to do a show on Radio Andy. He is so glowing to me (“You just go from one triumph to the next … my admiration and respect for you knows no bounds”) that I wonder if he has absolutely no idea that we only worked on one story together at 48 Hours. He said he wants to do it, but then he said, “I say yes to everything—my wife says that if I were a woman I’d be pregnant all the time.” Oh, Dan. Looks like I’m heading to Dollywood in May to interview Dolly for a Radio Andy special, and I had a call about that with her publicist, whose name is Kurt but he spells it Kirt, which is so country I can’t handle it. He also works with Crystal Gayle, so we had to talk about Loretta Lynn for a bit.

  Every day I step on Wacha’s paw or almost slam the door on him because he follows me around everywhere. Today I was taking food out of the broiler of my beloved toaster oven and dropped a scalding-hot sweet potato on Wacha. He freaked. It was so funny, though. Spent the entire day on the terrace. Went by the new place—the staircase is going in and so is the kitchen, but now with spring coming I don’t want to give up this terrace! Rich-people problems.

  Skyped with Mom and Dad. Mom said if I were twenty-eight and dating someone twenty years older she would freak out! #BAS and I had a good laugh over that. The show was Dorinda and Marie Osmond. Mariah Carey booked in, which shocked me—I never thought I would see her again. Went out with the boys after WWHL. What’s going to happen now is that I’m gonna be canoodling with a guy somewhere and it’ll get reported that I’m cheating on #BAS.

  THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 2016—SUNDAY, APRIL 17, 2016—LOS ANGELES

  Just when spring finally comes to New York, I skip town. Went directly from LAX to John Mayer’s incredible, super-sexy rental in the Hollywood Hills for a birthday dinner for Allison Williams, where Bruce and I were wearing the same shirt (the gray pullovers we bought in St. Barts). Other people would be horrified, but we loved it. The winds were insane and somehow one of the flames from the fire pits merged with one of the pool lounge chairs, which was quickly engulfed. Ricky saved the day by throwing it in the pool. So that was a mess and delightful party fodder, but truthfully it could’ve torched the entirety of Nichols Canyon. Friday I had breakfast with the hilarious writer Emily Spivey, who went deep with me about the Housewives, and had lunch at the Palm with RuPaul and Randy Barbato. Barry was at the next table and Brian Grazer next to that. Ava and Bruce were there too. Shopped with Eric for the apartment all afternoon, and it turns out everything is six thousand dollars—every chair, every table, anything you want is six grand. I bought four chairs and some glass elephant baubles that were way too expensive.

  Friday night I went to a screening of The First Monday in May, a wonderful new doc all about the Met Ball and the curator of the Costume Institute. I’m in a quick shot going through the exhibit with SJP, and it’s a good thing I got to relive the night because SJ isn’t going this year, which means I ain’t either. Saw James Corden for a second at the screening and it was either awkward or it wasn’t; I can’t decide. Also Les Moonves and Julie. I liked Julie’s hair but she thought she looked like Mavis Staples. Dinner with Ricky and Allison and John Mayer at Ysabel on Fairfax which is a combo indoor/outdoor lounge and restaurant full of straight guys who look you right in the eye like they aren’t straight at all. I was getting energy from people who should’ve been paying attention to their ladies, and I loved it. Rhyheim texted that there was a great party happening across from the Abbey and I got John
to go with me and it turned out it was a rollicking black gay club. We had a freaking blast. Being the only white people at parties is the best, but I don’t want to tell any of my white friends because they’ll show up and ruin it for me.

  Saturday was a shoot for some interstitials that’ll air on Bravo promoting the new movie Alice Through the Looking Glass, featuring me as the Mad Hatter hosting a tea party with Real Housewives Sonja, LuAnn, Erika, Phaedra, and Melissa. It’s always intriguing to see women from different cities interacting, and we had a few hours of downtime together so I was like a scientist watching my sociology experiment unfold. Erika, the newbie, was getting hazed a little by the veterans. Lu asked what Erika does on her show. “Live my life,” she said. Lu said what do you do, I mean. And she said she is a recording artist, and Lu said she is too. I interrupted and said Erika has a ton of dance hits and she should check her out and Lu wanted to know if Erika knew her music. Erika said she knew “Money Can’t Buy You Class.” There was a lot of low-key shade going on but the headline was that all of them fell in love with Sonja and were watching her with mouths agape. Lu and Sonja were a show unto themselves.

  That night Sandy Gallin had a beautiful dinner party with Allison, Henry and Stacey Winkler, Mick Jones and Ann Dexter-Jones, Bryan Singer, Lorraine Bracco, Brenda Vaccaro, Alana Stewart, and on and on. It was a hotbox in the house with a big fire blazing, and Sandy said he did it on purpose so people wouldn’t complain about having dinner outside. It worked; everyone was thrilled to go outside. Henry Winkler graciously endured a good twenty minutes answering my questions about Happy Days and his relationships with stars of the seventies. He is a mensch. Allison and I met John Mayer, Ricky, and BJ Novak at the Tower for a fun chat and debrief about the black gay club. John got a vitamin IV today to get over his hangover. He’s such a rock star. Literally.