Superficial

by Andy Cohen

  THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 2016—NYC—MIAMI

  Kelly drama at Live!. ABC mishandled her in a pretty epic way and she’s uptown trying to figure out what to do. I feel for her because she’s getting a bad rap for missing the show, but they seriously fucked with her. And I don’t understand for the life of me why Strahan would want to be one of five people on GMA fighting for airtime when he was the costar of Live!, a job you can keep for life and make crazy money. He had it made! All the press is mentioning me as a possible replacement. I am sincerely flattered but it’s not actually the case. I got TMZed stumbling out of WWHL last night at one-fifteen and I hope I was okay. I said I have ten jobs so how could I possibly do Live!—which is my way of deflecting what I know isn’t even reality. I hope they let me sub, though. It’s fun. I wanted to scream to TMZ about how Kelly got screwed but I held my tongue. I think I’m going to mouth off on the radio on Monday.

  Landed in Miami for this tenth anniversary gala for the Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts that I’m hosting and learned that Prince died. How is that possible? Radio Andy became Radio Prince—Hickey went live for an hour and Sandra and I called in, then Nigel Barker, Jason Biggs and Jenny Mollen, and finally Bevy. It felt like a real team effort. Having Seder at Jeanne and Fred’s tomorrow night.

  SATURDAY, APRIL 23, 2016

  Today was one of those New York City days you spend all winter waiting for—perfect weather and aimless fun. Jason came by with Roxie to see the new apartment and his reaction buoyed me immensely. He thinks it’s perfect.

  The New York Times Book Review By the Book piece I did came out and there’s a pencil drawing of me in which I look fifteen pounds overweight. Mom was very excited and relieved about the whole thing because she heard me talking about it on the radio a couple weeks ago and thought I was setting myself up for a Bill Maher–type moment of looking like an idiot in the Times. She said, “IT SURE WAS A HORRIBLE DRAWING! That same guy must do it every week because last week’s was horrible too!” So there. Now she can go back to worrying that I’m spending too much money on my apartment and it won’t be worth the amount I put into it. She’s comparing it to things she sees on Million Dollar Listing: New York.

  Hickey came by and we walked over to SJP’s, where she was having a lemonade stand with the twins in front of her house. It was normal, with the exception of the three paparazzi across the street and the customers all wanting a picture with purchase. The girls looked adorable. Hickey didn’t get change and was giving her a hard time. Some lady said, “What are you raising money for?” and SJ jokingly said, “Ourselves!” So next week she thinks she’ll do one for the elephants in Africa or something. In fairness to her, she spent sixty bucks on ingredients and I’m not sure they made it back.

  From there we wandered to the piers, then home, where Adam had let himself in and was waiting to give me a massage. Dinner at the Waverly Inn for Liza and Jamie’s birthday—they got spray-tanned and I told them they look like soap stars, to which they replied in unison, “Thank you!”—then a party at Scott Wittman’s for Bridget Everett’s birthday. They had pizza and donuts. I walked SJ back to my house, where I got Wacha and we walked her home. She got inspired at the very last minute and now does want to go to the Met Ball. I have to switch a bunch of stuff around, but I hope I can go.

  MONDAY, APRIL 25, 2016

  I had to poo all day today and was nowhere near home. On the radio for two hours—mouthed off about Kelly and Michael and by the time I got to the Matrix Awards, which I was hosting, I was like a ticking time bomb. I was seated right in the middle of the dais—Katie Couric on one side and Lena Dunham on the other, with every female in media sitting in the Waldorf ballroom audience—so it was a very low-key place to sit for two hours of uncomfortable shifting and ass clenching. I began the event by playing Plead the Fifth with each of the eight honorees, walking from one to the next. I guess the cards got stuck, so I wound up skipping Mellody Hobson, who happens to not only be George Lucas’s wife but also the only African American woman on the stage. I went back to her and made it okay, I guess.

  The emails started coming in with clippings of press about my radio show: “Andy Cohen Slams Michael Strahan’s Decision to Leave Kelly,” “Andy Cohen: You’ll Be Sorry for Leaving Kelly,” and on and on. And sitting at the table in front was Strahan’s publicist. I had to run out to tape Anderson and his mom for WWHL, and on the way out Gloria Steinem said to one of the honorees who wanted a picture with me for her daughter, “He’s running a minstrel show for women! Are you aware of what he’s doing? He’s running a minstrel show for women!” I said I know, I know, Gloria! She said she was going to convert me to the good side.

  I made the driver stop at my place to grab the dog and, more importantly, drop the kids off at the pool. Gloria Vanderbilt was amazing and Anderson was terrified. He’d never told his mom about our tour and she kept saying, “I only just found out about your tour and I’m desperate to come see you boys.” I loved her, and she was just as Anderson has always described her, a wonderful creature from another time. Before the show I was kinda brushing/picking my teeth with one of those mini toothbrushes, and she’d never seen one and she inquired about it. “Anderson, isn’t that just divine?!” she exclaimed. “Where ever did you get it?!” I told her it’s from the drugstore. “But who makes it?!” Crest, I said. “Well, it’s marvelous.” Later they both confessed to having just discovered peanut butter and jelly—she turned to her son, who very sweetly was holding her hand on and off throughout the show—and said, “Isn’t it divine?!” He had prepared her by saying that I was going to ask questions about everything, and before the show she whispered to him, “Is he going to ask me who had the biggest penis of everyone I’ve been with?!” AC told me and I wanted to ask it but I couldn’t get the words out. But she did reveal that Howard Hughes gave her the best orgasm of her life. (Anderson says he just went to his special place.) We all fell deeply in love with her. I want to buy my mom one of her paintings for Mother’s Day.

  From the show I went to Grac’s for dinner with the family. Sam knows everything about music, weather, and movies. Went back to WWHL for another show and my brain was jelly by midnight. Mom sent me a funny emoji that said “Sleep tight” and I sent her an “I love you” one back.

  WEDNESDAY, APRIL 27, 2016

  All the “news” has me or Anderson cohosting with Kelly even though I’ve not had one discussion with anyone about it and I can’t. I’m exclusive to NBCUniversal. But it’s got to be good to be mentioned, I guess. Had a fitting at Ralph Lauren for the Met Ball—we’re going!—and went in wanting this brand-new navy peak-lapel tux they’d just posted on their Instagram but they said it’s been taken by someone else going to the ball. (Even menswear designers don’t like more than one person wearing the same thing.) I made them tell me who and it’s Bobby Cannavale. So I’m ranked lower than him, is what that means, and I can’t say I thought I was higher ranked than him but it’s always interesting when you see where you stand in life. We all decided on a midnight-blue shawl-collared brocade jacket and black pants, but then the RL woman came in with bad news: someone has it on hold and will decide tomorrow whether he’s wearing it or not. I told her she had to tell me who it was and she said she couldn’t. I pushed. It’s Johnny Depp, and I have no problem with that whatsoever. It made me dig my heels in about Cannavale a little, to be honest, and try to fight for his tux. As it turns out, there’s a kind of Art Deco–patterned black jacket that Bieber just wore on the cover of GQ and it fits better than the blue that Depp has on hold so I put that and the Depp jacket on hold and I’ll find out tomorrow which one I’m wearing. I may go with the black anyway.

  Stopped by Gloria Vanderbilt’s art opening and saw Mark, Kelly, Anderson, and Ben. Mark and Ben noticed this black dot that’s on my lower lip, so that freaked me out. What is it? From there I headed to Holt’s 150th birthday party at the Morgan Library, where Stephen Rubin gave Bill O’Reilly and me a shout-out from the stage for ou
r contributions to the company. O’Reilly and I are such a publishing duo! I tried to meet him but just missed him. Then to the Below Deck premiere party in the IAC lobby, which was huge and included stars from a bunch of Bravo shows that it’s impossible not to love seeing together: Captain Lee, Shep, Jax, Ramona, Tabatha, Luis, and on and on, who were each apparently asked on the red carpet if I should take Strahan’s job. Took a lot of selfies—sometimes I feel like a cardboard cutout. Fun party, though. Gavin Newsom was on the show last night and our final pledge in March on Eos was to get behind the next generation of politicians and I think he’s it. I’m having lunch with Jason Kander from Missouri tomorrow to talk about doing some fundraising for him, so that’s another one.

  SUNDAY, MAY 1, 2016—SAG HARBOR—NYC

  Spent the weekend editing these diaries—#Meta. Also kind of tiring. I’ve been keeping a diary for about three years and it’s starting to get under my skin. Would I feel more free if I was just living? Dinner with Justin and George at Sam’s Friday night and ate like a pig. Am packing it on for the Met Ball, I decided. Worked on the book all day Saturday except for a half-hour playdate for Wacha and Gary Fallon and a half hour in Sag, where I ran into every gay guy I know buying home décor. Dinner at Sen with Jimmy and Nancy. I arrived wearing a striped polo pullover and down vest and JF took one look at me and said, “Hey, wanna get the Jeep and stop by Mork’s house?” I looked so Mork and Mindy! Sunday I drove straight to Ralph Lauren for my fitting and the woman said, “I have great news for you! You can wear the black!” Her choice had been the blue two days before, so I guess that means Johnny Depp is wearing the blue. No, she said, he doesn’t know yet but she thought on it and is sold on the black now.

  MONDAY, MAY 2, 2016

  As is our Met Ball tradition of sorts, I picked SJP up at her house in order to watch the final moments of her preparation, and she was in a Monse tribute to Alexander Hamilton with perfect hair. In the line to walk the red carpet I saw Michael Strahan from afar and knew I was going to wind up talking to him about my comments on the radio. I do love an awkward moment, just maybe not involving myself at the Met Ball. Shook Taylor Swift’s hand in the receiving line (she was one of the “hosts”) and remarked on her strong handshake and she said it’s like a dude’s. I said it’s perfect, and it is. Saw Barry and he said, “Wait for my wife to come out of the loo with me,” and lo and behold out she comes with butterflies in her hair and Kris Jenner by her side. You don’t know who will come out of the loo at the Met Ball, that’s what makes it fun.

  Going into dinner I walked right into Michael Strahan, who said he can’t believe I did him that way, that he was so surprised I joined the pileup. I said, “No, no, no, dude, did you actually read what I said? What I said wasn’t bad; you’re just reading the headlines.” He said it hurt his feelings, and I said, “Dude, I really like you and I wasn’t going in on you.” He said, “I like you and I like her, I really do.” I said I know that. I said, “I’m gonna send you the transcript and I stand behind it; you tell me if you think it’s bad.” We hugged it out at the end. I will send it to him tomorrow—all I said was that I couldn’t believe he was leaving a show he starred in with his name in the title to be one of five people, and what would happen to him if the ratings didn’t go up? (Um, maybe he is gonna be pissed?) I told Gaga she is Beyond Thunderdome and I miss her. She said she didn’t like what the women did to Yolanda this season, but maybe it will teach someone something about Lyme disease.

  I was sitting between Lizzie Tisch and Anna Kendrick, over whom Paul Rudd and I kept leaning to discuss baseball. Also at my table were SJ, Stephen Colbert, Grandmaster Flash, Derek Lam, Jonathan Tisch, and Sergey Brin and his wife, who is a Chatty Cathy in a good way. Told Kanye I almost wore what he did. Stupid. The highlight of the after party was Megyn Kelly, who SJ and I commandeered and she seems so smart and her own person. She’s doing my show in two weeks. She went way off the record. I told her I loved what she did with the governor of North Carolina last week. She said she has to pick her battles. I walked SJ out and wound up in a Katy Perry–Bradley Cooper logjam in the lobby, then walked right back in and up in the elevator with Madonna. I asked her if London went well, if she got the kid back, and she said she got to see him and I said baby steps. What do I know? She smelled like she always does—fragrant, perfume-y, but somehow milky. Talked to Miles Teller, Kate Mara, and Jamie Dornan, then Paul Rudd some more. Bruce and I decided Alexander Skarsgård should play Willem if they ever make A Little Life into a movie.

  Bryan and I were at the bar and Taylor Swift was in a logjam next to us wondering aloud where there was a spot for her to hang out to watch Gaga perform. Why I felt I needed to get involved I will never know (maybe I was auditioning for her squad?) but I innocently said exactly the wrong thing to her, which was: “Your friend Katy is sitting in the corner and there’s plenty of room around her.” She asked “Katy who?” and I said, “Perry,” at which point she clearly let me know that she’s the exact opposite of her friend. I kind of gasped, realizing she was in the most famous feud of all the feuds, one that I’d talked about myself endlessly on WWHL. I said that at least now she knows where not to go, which I thought was a nice button on the conversation and made it all a laugh. She didn’t agree. I turned away completely mortified that I’d said something so moronic to TSwift, who I don’t know from Adam but who has been the topic of many of my Plead the Fifths. And the capper is that she now thinks I’m a dick and I wasn’t even trying to be shady, I was just sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. And I saw Katy Perry alone in a really good area! And on top of that I failed my squad-ition! As she was walking away, she turned back to me, commanding me not to say a word about this on my show, and said that she’s watching. She’s watching? Is that a threat? And is she watching? That made me feel momentarily good until I realized there might’ve been a “fucking” thrown in there before “your show,” or was that my scared imagination? (If she’s watching my “fucking” show, that makes it a little less exciting.) I sputtered that I had no plans to say a word about it on my show—as a matter of fact, I silently vowed to stop playing into the hype that she created around her song “Bad Blood.” Hadn’t I beaten it to death anyway? She didn’t threaten me about putting it in my book, so here we are.

  Gaga performed the Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House” and TSwift seemed to be front and center for it. I didn’t see where her enemy was watching from, nor did I care. Hopefully she’ll start a new feud soon that I can invest in. Didn’t go to any other parties and was home by three.

  FRIDAY, MAY 6, 2016—DOLLYWOOD, USA

  I am home: swimming in the amniotic fluids of the Queen of Country, surrounded by old wigs and costumes, awards, gift shops, extended members of the Parton family, roller coasters, and cotton candy. I came to interview Dolly for a Radio Andy Town Hall in front of a theater full of contest winners, and to establish some kind of on-air rapport with DP so she’ll one day venture downtown to the unchartered waters of the Clubhouse, an offer she keeps refusing.

  I made the tactical error of flying to Nashville and driving today because someone (a New York City cabbie? A child?) said it was a two-hour drive to Dollywood—try three and a half, so I was in the car at seven and by ten was looking at a massive rotisserie of cheesedogs and sausages encircled by pancakes; in other words, I was close. My first stop was the gift shop, where I had orders to fill for everyone from Sandra Bernhard to my WWHL team. I got lots of mugs with people’s names on them, Dolly tees, butterfly keychains, and a country cookbook for Grac. At the appointed time, I was taken to a photo op with the lady herself, and she looked like a cross between Dolly and Ronald McDonald on account of her yellow vest and red puffy shirt with matching sequined miniskirt. She smelled of that recognizable smell again and as I type I can smell it on my hands, and as I smell it on my hands I realize it is in the same ballpark as that Madonna smell! Could it be from the same place? Is it the smell of breasts?

  The interview itself wa
s fun—ninety minutes—and at its best when we were talking about her music. The truth is I have heard most all of her stories because she is guarded about what she reveals. We talked about Sandy a bit backstage beforehand. She kept saying she knew me, which is what she has said before, but I get the sense that she really did remember seeing me a year or so ago at Sandy’s. I wanted to get her to admit to being a pot smoker so badly, but I couldn’t do it. Flew back from Knoxville through Charlotte, and the Charlotte airport is full of hot guys. Endless. Like a sausage factory, but not like that sausage wrapped in pancakes fifty miles from Dollywood; this was really great, premium sausage. Going to Anderson and Ben’s in Connecticut tomorrow with #BAS.

  SUNDAY, MAY 8, 2016—CONNECTICUT

  Spent the weekend with #BAS at Anderson’s impressive house (castle?), which reminds me of Palmer Cortlandt’s on All My Children. If it were up to Anderson I would marry #BAS tomorrow. We went to DVF’s for dinner on Saturday and watched Captain America (in 3-D) in her incredible screening room. I didn’t understand it, which is funny because aren’t those movies kind of made for idiots? I was stoned and fell asleep twice, but Benjamin didn’t get it either and he was awake, sober, and knowledgeable about that stuff. It was my boyfriend’s first time in a car with me and he is a nervous passenger. Still don’t think that counts as a fault, though.

  WEDNESDAY, MAY 11, 2016—NYC

  I was walking to the gym on Perry Street this beautiful morning and saw an old man on his stoop in his PJs and robe who I thought was enjoying the day. “I’m locked out,” he bemusedly bellowed down to me. He said his girlfriend is in Tucson so he was going to have to eventually walk to the locksmith’s in his robe. I said it’ll be fun. He didn’t seem to believe me. Made a ton of furniture decisions today and was back and forth to the apartment a lot. There’s a new refrigerator and Wacha is terrified of it. I was on Fallon tonight and went into it dubiously because the woman in the pre-interview didn’t laugh at anything I said. It went well, though.