“I finally got to meet that man they used to call the Social Moth, Star-Walker Mr. [Jerry] Zipkin. But I was horrified when someone asked about his health and he said, ‘I’ll be a lot better after I unload these two,’ meaning those lovely ladies Betsy Bloomingdale and Lynn Wyatt. ‘Out! Out!’ he shrieked, nearly rocketing them through the plate glass. It makes one want to return to the solitary life.”
— December 1983

“Truth is, Gloria von Thurn und Taxis believes she is Marie Antoinette, and those who love her fear that she may end up likewise.…Here we were, floating down the Danube, when Gloria unveiled, from under an aluminum foil cover, the most outrageous birthday cake you ever saw. In place of the candles, there were — dare I tell you? — 60 symbols of virility in two-tone candied sugar. Yet the Prince was not amused. His face froze like the stone statue of the commandatore, and many of us shivered as we almost heard the metallic sound of the guillotine.”
— December 1986

This story first appeared in the March 2, 2015 issue of WWD.  Subscribe Today.

“Malcolm [Forbes] staged Woodstock for Capitalists — his favorite 1,100 of them, that is — out at his place in Far Hills, N.J., where most of the 75 sylvan acres, my dears, seemed to be taken over as a helicopter pad. Out they popped, those happy little capitalists, from the bellies of the birds that landed ‘Apocalypse Now’ style in the meadow. A little scary, darlings, when the Trumps arrived with Jean MacArthur, Shirley Lord and Abe Rosenthal in their huge black number with TRUMP stenciled on in red, in case anybody was dead drunk and might miss them.” — June 1987

“At Le Cirque, there was the smell of white truffles in the air, mixed with that unmistakable scent of money and ambition. It made me reflective. The interesting thing about New York is that there is a constant banging on the teepee door to get in. People want to belong to the tribes. And if they can’t get into one, they form their own. The quickest ascent was performed by what W calls Nouvelle Society. They give new meaning to the word MONEY. And they spend it. Thirty-four room apartments, private jets, auction houses, fashion companies, pet charities, publishing houses, horse farms and yachts, overnight art collections and the ever-important theme trips. This is the world of social secretaries and dinners with a purpose. You can tell where they live by the crowds of museum directors and art specialists huddled outside their doors. Their names appear each and every day in what is now considered the sexiest part of the New York Times: the business section. There’s Big Al Taubman and little Henry Kravis, Saucy Saul Steinberg and King Kluge, Revlon Ron Perelman and the Towering Trumps.”  — September 1987

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