The Andy Warhol Diaries

by Andy Warhol

  Pia had on a beautiful ring—a diamond with blue sapphires, and she was wearing a Bob Mackie, red, white, and with a blue star. It really was a beautiful dress. Slit up to the ass and when the wind blew once, one of the photographers groaned, “Oh my God, I missed a pussy shot.” And the funniest line was one Benjamin heard. When they showed the portraits, one of the photographers said, “How could Andy Warhol sink to such mediocrity?” and the photographer he said it to said, “What do you mean? He’s famous for sinking to mediocrity.”

  And it’s funny because there everybody is at this party for her and they still all put her down. Oh, but I was gushing because Riklis came over and said, “How can we get the rest of the portraits? Let’s talk about it.” I was thrilled.

  I snuck out at 7:30. Left Jay there looking for Bunnies. Or whatever Penthouse has. Pets.

  Wednesday, September 7, 1983

  I called Robert Hayes. Told him about getting Matt Dillon for the cover and he was excited about that, but he didn’t like my idea of Shirley MacLaine. I’m trying to sell magazines. Maybe those ladies who watch Donahue will buy Interview if they see Shirley on the cover.

  Monday, September 12, 1983

  Jean Michel was late and he had to go back downtown so he was missing his pedicure. So I went over there and took his appointment ($35). And Yanna’s son came over from the School of Visual Arts around the corner, he was cute, he had blue eyes.

  Then Mrs. de Menil was having a party for the Lalanne guy who did the sheep-to-sit-on furniture in the sixties. It’s French week at Bloomingdale’s. When we got there I said to Mrs. de Menil that gee, she was a great-grandmother—Tiya just had a baby—and I guess I shouldn’t have said that because she can’t face it, but what I meant was that she looks so beautiful, much better than her kids.

  I talked to Peter Schjeldahl the art critic who I know hates me, but I was working hard for him to like me, so we talked about Ted Berrigan dying from diet pills and Coke—the soda. He just wouldn’t stop drinking it and it ate out his stomach.

  And Jean Stein was there and I guess Peter believed everything in Edie. Then left there and Benjamin walked me home.

  Tuesday, September 13, 1983

  Jean Michel came over, he was drugged-out and excited, he brought a painting he wanted to show me. He told me a story about how he’d wanted to buy a pack of cigarettes so he did a drawing and sold it for $.75 and then a week later his gallery called up and said they had this drawing of his there and should they buy it for $1,000. Jean Michel thought it was funny. It is. And he was on his way upstairs to see if anybody would buy a painting of his for $2. I mean, because now his paintings go for $15,000 and so he wanted to see if anybody would give him $2 for one. Lidija was there, did a workout. Oh, and the girl Jean Michel took around the world and left in London arrived in New York and wanted a ticket back to California.

  Saturday, September 17, 1983

  Got up at 6:00 to go out on the second day of shooting the TDK ad in Queens. But it’s worth it when you get a fat check. We were supposed to work until 5:30 but we finished by noon. We went out to 45th Boulevard or whatever it was in Long Island City. The twenty Japs were waiting. And the crew—ten American guys, so good-looking. Like Mafia or Irish. With the gay fashion look of bracelets and pink shirts and pink belts. They’re straight, but that’s how those film-crew guys dress now.

  We decided to go to dinner at the Café Seiyoken at 9:30. Picked up Bianca who was staying at the house of Marcie Klein’s boyfriend. And I guess Calvin really is trying to have a hot media affair with his assistant Kelly. And Bianca was trying so hard to get him.

  So we went to Café Seiyoken and I introduced Bianca to Keith Haring. I bet she wants him to do a mural for free in her apartment. She says she wants to interview him for Interview, and she also wants to interview Rauschenberg and all the artists.

  Rauschenberg was there. He was drinking Jack Daniel’s and he came over and he was sweet. I think he said he’s working on costumes for Laurie Anderson but the Cafe Seiyoken is so noisy, though, you can’t talk to people (dinner $450). I don’t think I’ll go back again because of the noise, but they’re advertisers, so it was good to go.

  Then Steve sent his driver to pick us up to go to meet them at that VanDam restaurant. And so we went and in addition to Steve and Ryan and Farrah, Bob Colacello was there. And Bob looks good, he was his old story-telling self. Ryan is so desperate, he calls you “Baby” and “Honey” and he kisses all the boys on the lips, it’s so sick. Farrah was also so peculiar. She made Keith draw on her arm. And then Ryan and Farrah were nervous so they took a walk around the block to smoke a joint. Because I guess it was tense because Bianca had had an affair with Ryan.

  Then I raved to Steve about Area, the new disco at 157 Hudson Street, and we went there. I’d been to the opening the other night, and so the guy let us in, but Steve shoved him aside and motioned us all in the door. It was funny, it was (laughs) like he was the club owner and letting us in, but he’d never even been there before. Marcie Klein was there and she could only talk about wanting to meet Rob Lowe.

  Then it was 3:00 and Bianca wanted to go, so I dropped her at Marcie Klein’s boyfriend’s house, and then dropped Marcie on 83rd Street (cab $10).

  Sunday, September 18, 1983

  Couldn’t get up after being up so late till 3:00. Saw the dogs off for the day. Nobody called because I guess I’d driven them crazy during the week. Went to church. Walked up to the Frick (admission $4) and gee, it’s amazing how rich people were. One of the guards knew me, named Fayette, and he gave me a free catalogue.

  Then Jon and I walked to the Castle in Central Park. Went to the Boathouse and we rented a rowboat ($20). We rowed for an hour and it was like modern Seurat, all these people on the lake. We got stuck on a rock and then four girls rammed into us, that was fun. And then they were gone and Jon and I were alone and then I thought I was Shelley Winters in A Place in the Sun. I can’t swim.

  Then went home. Decided to see the Presented by Coppola movie at the 57th Street Playhouse. It was boring. Like being at the Cinematheque in the sixties, that kind of a movie. Cuts together, a guy cutting salami, eating a Twinkie, clouds going faster than they should through the sky— everything you never wanted to see. It was over quickly though. And it was packed, crowds waiting to get in (popcorn $5).

  And then I couldn’t sleep because I’ve been taking these things called taurine and l-argentine and cystine. And selenium. From the Life Extension book and from the nutritionist kid, Shea. S-H-E-A. I always spell it because he always spells it. He says, “I’m Shea. S-H-E-A.” I had to get up three or four times to pee because of them.

  Tuesday, September 20, 1983

  Got picked up early by Benjamin. Went to Hãagen-Dazs and got energized and walked all the way down to Interview on 32nd Street (phone calls $.60). Cab to meet Lidija ($4). Jean Michel didn’t show up for the workout because he was up all night with Paige. He’s going off to Zurich. He hasn’t moved into Great Jones Street yet. It was a busy afternoon. Worked on the Cocteau drawings for Pierre Berge with Rupert. Painted. Worked until 7:30 (cab $6). Worked at home. Read magazines.

  Thursday, September 22, 1983

  Got up early and went to get collagen at 1050 Park Avenue at Karen Burke’s. She talks your head off. She had people waiting but she rattled on for an hour. She did my neck and it was so painful, like going to torture. She gave me her life story while I was on the table.

  When I got to the office Brigid had just had her cat Jimmy put to sleep. And I got so mad and told her how could she have done it when she didn’t even take it to another doctor for a second opinion. And Rupert had offered to take it to Pennsylvania because sometimes things can just change and the cat can get better, but she didn’t even tell him, so he never got the chance. She’d been having to shoot it up every day because it had kidney problems, and she was afraid it was going to start peeing on her rug. Jimmy was cute.

  Decided to go to Richard Weisman’s party for
Catherine Oxenberg’s birthday at Le Club. The last time I saw Catherine Oxenberg was at a party in Spain given by Marc Rich, and he was in the newspapers yesterday because he owes the government more evaded taxes than anybody in history, hundreds of millions or something. I took pictures of the birthday girl.

  Friday, September 23, 1983

  Then this was the night of Drue Heinz’s big seventy-fifth birthday party for her husband Jack. It was at their townhouse on Riverview Terrace, off Sutton Place, outside in the back, and she had the whole waterfront lit up. There were crowds of people. About fifty tables with ten people at each table, and they were all in costumes of 1890,I was the only one in black tie. Ahmet Ertegun was in a fez. Jerry Zipkin had a mustache. I ran into Mrs. Heinz when I got there and told her my date Cornelia had cancelled, and she said, “Well in that case you’ll be sitting next to no one.” And I asked her where Malcolm Forbes was because I had something for him, and she said, “Oh just throw it over the wall.” I didn’t know what to think about that, she was just being glib. So I was supposed to be at table 2, which was a good table, but when I got there my name wasn’t on any of the cards.

  I ran into Jeane Kirkpatrick who I’ve been watching on TV because of the Korean flight 007 Soviet thing, and that was exciting.

  So I’d been moved to Table 18 and there was no other person at this huge table except for some artist who was doing work for the Heinzes. It was so strange—there we were alone and all the really important people were up another level. Tom Wolfe was next to a man, too. But I mean, this artist and I, we were down there alone. He was actually cute and fun. I thought he was gay because he was alone, but he said they’d told him he couldn’t bring a date so his girl didn’t come. His name was Ned. And so we gave each other the presents we’d brought for Mr. Heinz. His is still wrapped—it’s a drawing and I haven’t unwrapped it because it looks so nice wrapped.

  They had fireworks. And I got drunk. The food was good, not the canned stuff. They had 100 waiters, great-looking fairies, and they couldn’t figure out why we were down there alone at this table. People came and asked us to go up, but I didn’t. Henry Geldzahler was there and he asked, but I didn’t. Then Ned said he had to go to the bathroom, and I said if he did I was leaving and he said, “Tough”—he was drunk, too. But I didn’t leave. It was so cold, I just lose my thinking when it gets cold. You just sit there like a bump. If all this had happened inside somebody’s house I would have gotten up and left right away, but I just felt stuck. I just sat there in the cold. And then the artist came back and then I left. Before dessert. It was the strangest thing, and my last party at the Heinzes’.

  Saturday, September 24, 1983

  Worked with Benjamin till 7:00 (cab $6). Then the guy from Harper & Row who wants me to do the America book called and said he wanted to take me to dinner at Texarkana and we said we’d meet at 9:00. Cabbed there ($6). It’ll be a book of photographs with just a little text— maybe just captions.

  Ran into Ronnie Cutrone and a whole bunch of forty people and they had just come from Ronnie’s show that said on the invitation “In memory of my father.” And Benjamin and I had intended to go, but then we were carrying things home and just forgot, but you can’t say, “I forgot.” So it was really embarrassing. Tony Shafrazi was there and Keith Haring, and Lou Reed looking so glum, so peculiar. His wife looks more Puerto Rican every time I see her. I don’t know if Lou is big or not. Rolling Stone gave his album four stars, but was it a hit? Ronnie said Lou’s in A.A. so I guess he’s not drinking. But Sam the next night was telling me that he saw Lou at the Ninth Circle drinking, but maybe he was just there picking up boys. But then he lived in that neighborhood, anyway, so maybe he was just hanging out. Ronnie said that when he goes to visit Lou in the country that he’s always just bought another motorcycle and another piece of land.

  So after I’d sat there so long with this Harper & Row guy, Craig Nelson, he still hadn’t gotten the check and how long can you wait, so I asked for the check and he didn’t offer to pay it. It was $100 with tip. Dropped Craig Nelson at his pad on Avenue A (cab $8).

  Sunday, September 25, 1983

  Woke up freezing. Went to church.

  Called Curley and he discouraged me from having dinner with him and his friends saying that it was a great night to stay home, but that if I really wanted to come out they had reservations at this one place. So I could take a hint. Then I called Mark, the kid from the Pedantiks, and we arranged to meet at Texarkana. He said he was bringing the guy named Sam from his group. Then I called Jay Shriver and he said he’d fallen asleep and just couldn’t drag himself out that night, so I said okay (cab downtown $6). Met Sam and Mark on the street on the way in.

  Anyway, during dinner we talked about rock, I guess. Mark has blond hair and he looks regular, you’d never think he was gay. Sam’s teeth are bad and he looks grey, but then I guess rock and roll isn’t healthy and these kids do start to look like that. We were there for a while and suddenly over walked Jay!He’d been there for half an hour sitting at the bar and he thought I’d seen him but actually I hadn’t. And then after drinking he got too paranoid and decided to come over and face me. But I never would even have seen him. I can’t see with my new contacts. I don’t even know which ones I’ve got on. He was there to try to pick up the waitress he’d seen the night before. I felt really mad at him because he’d lied and said that he wasn’t going out. I mean, all he had to do was tell the truth. I mean, I’m not a kid (dinner $120).

  Called Benjamin a few times but he said he was tired because he’d worked till 5:00 at the Pyramid Club as a drag queen. But Mark is a doorman at the Pyramid and he said they close before that, so I don’t know if Benjamin was lying to me, too.

  So then dropped Mark and Sam off ($6) and when I got home I was just so mad at Jay and all these kids. I felt so used and abused and lied to. Watched a good TV show on HBO. For the first time I saw why Andy Kaufman was funny, so clever. He had a plant in the audience saying, “You don’t do anything new—the same old routine for ten years,” and then the guy is yelling the lines with him, and then Andy Kaufman really starts to sweat and you don’t know if it’s real or not. It was very, very good. Talked to Jon in Los Angeles.

  Monday, September 26, 1983

  I’d been hating the Republicans so much since the other night at Drue Heinz’s, but I’ll really change my mind today if we find out that Ron Jr. was able to get an interview with his father for Interview. For the January cover. I mean, wouldn’t that just put Interview on the map? I’d even vote Republican. I know I don’t vote but I’m thinking of registering again, because they just started getting the jury-duty lists from the tax rolls instead of the voter things, and so I got one.

  Tuesday, September 27, 1983

  Vincent is shooting Joanne Winship talking about her annual charity thing. You never hear about her since she got sick. It’s so quick what happens in New York. You can just get forgotten in five minutes. Less. You can see millions of people all the time every night for years, and then they can forget you in a minute. Benjamin arrived early to pick me up. He wasn’t in drag. I wish he would be. He looks so much more masculine when he goes into drag. It’s strange because he looks so slight and girlish as a boy, and then he goes into drag and you notice his hands are so veiny and he has big shoulders and tough hands.

  I’d like to start wearing lipstick at night so my lips look fuller, but I’m afraid I’d get stuck under a bright light someplace.

  Wednesday, September 28, 1983

  Bianca called and asked me to the lunch at Da Silvano that she was having for the Nicaraguan Sandinista cultural minister. A girl. There was an American guy who was like de Antonio, being Communist—Peter Davis, he did a movie called Hearts and Minds. And Clemente the Italian artist was there, and gee, I like him a lot—he’s picked up the American attitude. He understands American humor, which is so strange, because you don’t understand how a person from another country can pick it up. He doesn’t say much, he jus
t sits and eats and watches. Bianca’s trying to get him to do a free mural for her apartment. She’s buttering up all the artists.

  And this other guy at the lunch had been a political prisoner somewhere in South America I think, and now he works for Mitterrand.

  It turned into a five-hour lunch. The Nicaraguan cultural minister girl didn’t get there until late. She’s almost as pretty as Bianca. And she says, “Oh yes, people think we don’t have art in a revolution but even as the bombs are falling and the bullets are flying, people are still making art. We have dancers and painters and photographers, and we’re becoming unionized"I mean … and then she was saying how the true revolution is really winning out, that “the people are having their day.” And I don’t know, it was all so abstract, but then being at that big Heinz party the other night with all those rich Republicans I got a creepy feeling there, too. It’s like any people when they have the power, they don’t want anyone else to ever get it. It’s like women trying to keep their husbands away from seeing what young girls look like. But I guess that’s not only the rich.

  Anyway, they’re saying they want us to come down to Nicaragua and, and I don’t know, support their art cause. And Clemente is saying, “Oh yeah, sure, and lose the green card I went through so much to get.” And then when we were finally done, the rebel girl got into her limousine, and the Socialist who works for Mitterrand got into his limousine, and we went down to Clemente’s loft, which is right next to Tower Records, and his loft is just beautiful. It’s really an artist’s loft, big paintings all over. He produces a lot. So many paintings. And the Mitterrand guy was awful, he walked on one of them that was on the floor and pretended he thought it was a rug, but I just know he knew it was a painting.