Well, it was a pretty starless New Year's Eve. I feel left out. I think Calvin had a party and didn't invite me, and Bianca's in town and I didn't hear from her, she never even called to say she was coming by for her Christmas gift. And I mean, she doesn't have many other friends. But New Year's was easy and unemotional. Nobody was mushy.
During the day, Jay was moping around the office but he's been better since I had the talk with him about all his negativity probably causing the cold sores on his mouth.
Bought the papers and saw that the eyeglass place had given an item to the newspapers that I buy my glasses there and that they're bullet proof like the president of Nicaragua's (newspapers $5, cabs $3, $2). I mean, I'm not going to go there anymore. Why would they make that up? I mean, what are bulletproof eyeglasses? What could they do for you?
I was going to call lots of people and wish them Happy New Year but then I couldn't get it together to call anybody.
Sam picked up PH and they came to pick me up (cab $10). So we got to Jane Holzer's and of course she wasn't ready, after telling me she wanted to get to Roy Cohn's party at 9:00 so she could really work the room for her real estate. She was still in her bathrobe. So then she got into her makeup and a black Armani jacket and pants. She's a little heavier.
And so we went to Roy Cohn's townhouse, and it was sad to see him like that, it really was. He didn't look old but God, he looked so sick. I don't know what to describe it as. And it was people like Joey and Cindy Adams.
Steve Dunleavy the Australian journalist said, "Give me a bon mot for the new year," and I couldn't think of one. Roy's ninety-year-old aunt was there, she owns Van Heusen shirts, she was the one who gave permission for me to use Ronald Reagan's old Van Heusen ad in my painting. She was like a WASP dowager, only with a hook nose, and she still has every one of her marbles. Jane went over to her and said, "I'm sure you don't remember me," and she said, "Oh yes I do, Jane, and how is your wonderful son Rusty and his horseback riding?"
And Doris Lilly was there. And Roy's nephew or something from Palm Beach who writes for the Miami Herald and wants to write for Interview. Monique Van Vooren was there, she walked into the front room shielding her face, she said, "Oh my, it's the same wonderful lighting as always." Because it was horrible and bright and with this old crowd it was really a horror show.
And then Regine was there and she invited us to the $2,000-a-plate Julio Iglesias dinner-concert right afterwards at the Essex House, so we got ourselves excited for that.
Oh, and I got a Christmas card from Jann Wenner and his wife and a baby. Did they have a baby or did they adopt one? The name was "Wenner." I don't remember her being pregnant.
At Essex House the best thing was a girl came over and gave us all brass key chains that were engraved concert tickets that said: "Julio Iglesias, Essex House, December 31, 1985, $2,000." And Angie Dickinson was there, who's always so nice. Same went over and took her picture and told her he worked for me and she said, "Oh, I love him." Regis Philbin did a comedy introduction about people calling him Phoebus Region and Regis Philbin and things like that and then he introduced the celebs and the spotlight went on me, and I froze. And then at midnight they shot big spangles out of the cannons. And there were orchids and it was fun, and Julio's great line was he comes out on stage and says, "I FEEL GUILTY! I LOVE YOU!" And he kept talking about how we were all one family. And everybody who heard the price of this thing said that it must be a benefit, but it wasn't, it was just for Julio.
Left there and went over to Hard Rock Cafe and the rock and roll crowd there was the most corny crowd in the world. It always is. Some CNN people interviewed me on what I was going to be doing next year and I said I was working on a Barbie doll. And then somebody who came in told us that Ricky Nelson had just been killed in a plane crash in Texas.
Warhol, A. (1989). The Andy Warhol Diaries (P. Hackett, Ed.). Pg. 705-706. New York: Warner Books.