by George Wayne
GW:
When did you first meet DV?
CD:
Ooh, in the fifties. I was a reporter at the New York Times. Then I went to work for her when she became editor of Vogue. She was like a mother to me, a marvelous friend. I remember the first time I had to have heart surgery and she got so upset that I had to go off to Texas. “Carrie, you can’t go alone! They might cut off your leg!” She was always concerned about me.
GW:
This wasn’t the time on the operating table when you died and were miraculously brought back to life?
CD:
No, that was another time. That was the time I had this mad idea of having my jowls removed. That’s when I conked out on the table. I did die on the table; it’s perfectly true. When I woke up, I was in the ICU at New York Hospital! That was the end of any attempt at that. So I say, live with the chins and jowls, my dear. I don’t want to see another hospital until I’m out for good.
GW:
Carrie, you haven’t changed your look in a thousand years. Those overdone Chanel things that have been manacled to your wrists for at least fifty seasons!
CD:
They are Chanel relics, but I only wear them for the cameras, because they are falling apart. Karl Lagerfeld gave them to me, and since they’re lacquer, they are rather fragile. I don’t know what I’ll do when those bracelets go. But I think you do kind of develop a style, your uniform.
GW:
So have you completely given up your degree as a fashionista?
CD:
That was another time in my life, but of course I’m interested in it. I love reading Suzy Menkes in the International Herald Tribune during collection time. And I still have dinner with Kal Ruttenstein [of Bloomingdale’s], because he is so tuned in. And I would love to see Donna [Karan], but she is so big. She’s become a mogul now.
GW:
Carrie, I agree. “For me, it’s about Paris, Milan, and Old Navy.” But Club Monaco is the chicest fashion chain of the moment!
CD:
There is no question; I find Club Monaco very interesting.
GW:
And Magic is nowhere as fabulous as Dinky, the Taco Bell Chihuahua!
CD:
Magic is my baby, but I adore that Taco Bell Chihuahua. He is a dish.
GERALDO RIVERA
JUNE 1997
Geraldo Rivera is still “Geraldo-ing”! Somehow, someway he has managed to be a news television perennial and standout personality. The fact that Geraldo has managed to be a relevant television presence (these days on Fox News) for decades in the highly competitive, shark-infested waters of the New York mediarati is to be commended. I first met him in 1997—and even back then we were talking about his twenty-seventh year in television—and that, one must note, was twenty years ago! And Geraldo is still hanging around.
GW:
Your career in television spans twenty-seven years and counting. How are you feeling these days?
GR:
It’s funny, I remember endorsing the “Live fast, die young with a beautiful corpse” philosophy twenty-five years ago. I’m sort of embarrassed to still be around at fifty-three, going strong, because it’s so unlikely, as Marty Berman—my longtime executive producer—has said, I’ve always stayed out late, played too hard, worked too hard, and yet I am thriving.
GW:
What about your accomplishments?
GR:
I think surviving at a certain level of achievement is a huge accomplishment. I’m very proud of a lot of the work I’ve done. I’m embarrassed by a lot of it too. But I’ve done more right than wrong.
GW:
You have WABC–New York to thank.
GR:
That’s where it started. I was a notorious lawyer working with the Young Lords—the Puerto Rican equivalent of the Black Panthers—and I insisted that they take me on as their counsel, and they did. I was on TV as their spokesman, and someone from WABC saw me and said, “We’re gonna make you a star.”
GW:
Geraldo’s first scoop was the Zapruder film. Is that what put you on the map as a premier agent provocateur?
GR:
My first big story was the Zapruder footage shown for the first time ever on national TV in 1975. And raising the possibility of a conspiracy to kill the thirty-fifth president. My Elvis story in 1979 was the biggest story on 20/20.
GW:
Why were you fired from ABC [in 1985]?
GR:
I went up against Roone Arledge, the most formidable, wicked inside fighter in the news business. I was disloyal. I publicly lambasted [Roone], who had been my biggest supporter. He killed a story about the relationship between the Kennedy brothers and Marilyn Monroe. I complained bitterly about it. I went public to People magazine, and he said goodbye.
GW:
That skinhead melee on your show in 1988, in which your nose was broken, was trash TV at its nadir.
GR:
That was very spontaneous, and very violent. On one hand, I was the cover of Newsweek the same week George [H. W.] Bush was elected president. On the other hand, the negatives are so heavy I can barely carry them today.
GW:
People often ask me if I think you had an affair with Denise Brown [sister to Nicole Simpson, wife of O. J. Simpson]. Once when I was a guest on your TV show, on your set, I couldn’t help but notice the sexual frisson between you both. So did you?
GR:
No, I did not. I’m a flirt, George. You’ve probably seen that frisson with others as well.
GW:
I have to say, I often find myself dumbstruck whenever I catch sight of your gluteus maximus. You have the tightest buns of any fifty-year-old man I have ever seen.
GR:
[Laughs] My mother says that is my best feature.
GW:
How many Emmys do you have on your mantel, Geraldo?
GR:
I have ten.
GW:
Do you pack heat?
GR:
From time to time.
GW:
So you own a gun?
GR:
I own several guns. I got the guns in the 1980s when there were a lot of kidnappings, and I kept the guns on board my boat, mostly.
GW:
Folk often say Geraldo not only wants to report the story, he wants to be the story. . . .
GR:
That is probably one of the reasons people believe I was having an affair with Denise Brown or Faye Resnick. I do live my stories.
GW:
Lately you’ve been screaming about a particular network for not giving you the respect you think you deserve.
GR:
Yes, NBC. My career has been like a roller coaster. Now I’m on one of the upswings, enjoying a grudging acceptance I haven’t seen in a while. Being one of the wise men of my generation is my goal now. If I can just kind of keep a lid on all the volcanic aspects of my life, I have an opportunity.
GW:
One last question. The JonBenét Ramsey murder mystery—do you think Daddy did it?
GR:
I believe either Daddy did it and Mom is covering up for him or vice versa.
GW:
It’s a twisted world out there Geraldo. You keep letting them have it.
KATE MOSS
JANUARY 1994
The first time I met Kate Moss she was fresh off the boat and had been living in Manhattan for a mere seven weeks. A fashion photographer by the name of Michel Haddi had asked GW to stop by his studio on lower Fifth Avenue. “I have this new girl coming over,” he said. “They call her a waif; her name is Kate. I am putting you in the shoot with her for British GQ.” And sure enough this really, really thin, tiny, and really, really shy girl soon showed up on the set. It was Kate Moss. And so we did the shoot that day for British GQ. I had no idea that Kate Moss would go on to attain iconic fashion status that day I met the pale, skinny, and woefully shy English girl for the first time. We went o
n to become fairly fast friends, and I was the person who introduced Kate Moss to Johnny Depp that night in Café Tabac many, many years ago. Little did I know that night—when she walked into Tabac with Naomi Campbell, and I grabbed her hand and marched her over to where Johnny Depp was sitting and prompted, “Johnny, this is Kate, and Kate, this is Johnny”—that these two would then go on to trash hotel rooms across the globe, what with their wild and tempestuous jet-setting relationship that lasted years. I did this interview with Kate Moss during Fashion Week of 1993 in New York City.
GW:
Okay, Miss Moss, what do you say to your critics who call you a chain-smoking anorexic supermodel?
KM:
Well, I’m not anorexic, but I am a chain-smoker. I try and eat three meals a day. I eat a big breakfast and dinner, and a small lunch. For breakfast I love eggs and bacon; for dinner, Italian food. And there is this brilliant transvestite Thai restaurant in Paris I love going to. It’s so fabulous!
GW:
And you love smoking your Marlboros. . . .
KM:
I know. My mum says to me, “If I see another picture of you with a fucking Marlboro in your hand, I’m going to kill you.”
GW:
What did she say when she saw that picture of you wearing a transparent shift with black panties and no bra?
KM:
She said, “You could at least have worn white knickers!”
GW:
You have the longest hair of any supermodel around today.
KM:
Probably, Naomi [Campbell] has got longer hair, but that doesn’t really count.
GW:
Yeah, one week she has short hair, the next it’s down to her waist. She must have some magic formula.
KM:
She has hair extensions.
GW:
I know, I’m just kidding. [Both shriek with laughter.] Tell me about being discovered at JFK airport—I think that’s so chic!
KM:
Pan Am was on strike, and I’d been at the airport for three days when Sarah Doukas [head of Storm Model Management] saw me. She sent her brother over to talk to me.
GW:
Now your brother, Nick, is a hot model, and your former beau, Mario Sorrenti, is a hot fashion photographer.
KM:
Yes, I don’t know about Nick being a model. I never thought he’d be a model. But I always thought Mario would be a top photographer.
GW:
But I hear that you and Mario are no longer girlfriend and boyfriend. What happened?
KM:
Um . . . well, we’re just sort of having a break. He lives in London and I live in Paris.
GW:
But London isn’t that far from Paris, darling. Is this a trial separation?
KM:
I dunno. You know how it is—relationships.
GW:
What shoes did you like most this season in Paris?
KM:
Vivienne Westwood and John Galliano’s.
GW:
Of all those other supergirls, which ones are you closest with?
KM:
The super, super ones—Naomi and Christy [Turlington].
GW:
And now you are a fellow millionairess. . . .
KM:
I don’t think about it. The best thing about money is sending my mum checks.
GW:
What does your mother do?
KM:
Nothing, really, at the moment; she used to be a barmaid but she got the sack.
GW:
A barmaid?!
KM:
Yes, for ages. She’ll kill me for telling people. She doesn’t want anybody to know.
GW:
You should take her to the fashion shows.
KM:
She came to Vivienne’s last year.
GW:
It’s such a trend amongst you models to take Mother to work with you.
KM:
I know. I think they saw, like one girl do it, and it’s, like, “Why can’t I take my mother with me?”
GW:
Would your mum mind me asking what size bra you wear?
KM:
I don’t wear bras, really. I’ve got a couple of those Gossard Wonderbras. They are so brilliant, I swear, even I can get cleavage with them.
GW:
You must hate people constantly referring to you as a waif.
KM:
Yeah, I do. I’m sick of it. I hate it. It’s been going on forever. It’s so boring. I’m just a normal girl. Leave me alone!
ROSS BLECKNER
MAY 2014
The artist Ross Bleckner to this day still owns Truman Capote’s old beach house on the East End of Long Island—and I have always been immensely envious of that fact. After all, it remains one of the most enviable pieces of real estate out there. But I like Ross Bleckner a lot. For GW he is the epitome of the born and bred New York City artist as bona fide celebrity. His alma mater is even NYU, so he is a native New Yorker in every sense of the word. And he was mentored by Sol LeWitt and Chuck Close!
GW:
So, Ross Bleckner, your Wikipedia claims that you studied with Sol LeWitt and Chuck Close. Does that mean you interned for Sol and Chuck?
RB:
No, George, that just means that when I went to college at NYU, they happened to be teaching there. And you know how it is, George—you kind of enter into a dialogue, and sometimes that dialogue lasts a long time, and it did with both of them. Of course Sol has passed away, but I knew him for many, many years.
GW:
You first started going to the East End how long ago? And what has always intrigued you most about the Hamptons?
RB:
Well, the greatest thing for me is that it is close to New York City and even though I used to be “upstate” in the Hudson Valley in the ideal dream farmhouse, I decided to make a clean break in Sagaponack. Here, I have close friends and privacy when I want it. I am here from the second week in May until around November, so for more than half the year, this is where you will find me.
GW:
Do you keep a schedule when you are out here? Where do you shop for bagels?
RB:
I never keep a schedule, and I never shop for bagels.
GW:
You own Truman Capote’s place, for Christ’s sake! And GW is fucking envious! And amazingly, you bought it for peanuts—a mere $800,000 in 1990. Today, you could easily sell that property to some bored oligarch for more than $40 million!
RB:
That would be nice, trust me. I would be happy to sell it to some oligarch.
GW:
What is it about that iconic piece of East End real estate that screamed I have to own it?
RB:
It just happened to be available. It was just one of those circumstances.
GW:
And you entertain here? And do you allow public tours of your studio?
RB:
No and no. I never entertain here, but my friends can come over, sure, and I will serve them one bottle of Poland Spring water.
GW:
Well, you were born under the sign of Taurus, after all. And you know what they say about Taurus men: They tend to be very stubborn and are creatures of habit. And most important of all: They are very, very cheap! Describe your work in general terms. What is it you seek?
RB:
My paintings have a lot to do with consciousness and microcosm and looking out at the architecture in the sky, and looking at the mind and the body and the place where all that intercepts.
GW:
Hence, some of your best-known works, where you have incorporated the use of your brain scans.
RB:
I believe if you look at something close enough and long enough, it all becomes abstract.
GW:
And how successful was your recent show at the Mary Boone Gallery? Were you happy with the reception to this year’s first show
n works in many, many years?
RB:
Yes, I was very happy. Most of the pieces have sold, and I felt good about the work.
GW:
I am sure if anyone has seen the much talked about, much buzzed, finally finished, brand-new home of your BFF Calvin Klein, it would be you, Ross Bleckner. Is it a modernist, jaw-dropping masterpiece?
RB:
It is actually very simple and romantic and very much the essence of Calvin. It is completely in line with his aesthetic, with an abundance of natural light.
GW:
Is there going to be a huge bacchanal there this summer?
RB:
No, those days are over.
GW:
You know, I always remember the summer of Calvin and Nick a few seasons or three ago. The first time I saw them together at some posh event in Water Mill, I thought to myself, Wow. I love the way they complement each other. The chemistry was so natural—Nick Gruber was clearly being groomed to be a younger and gorgeous version of his sugar daddy. But they were a great couple! I think Calvin should give Nick another chance. I know Nick well and despite his erratic behavior, I like him a lot.
