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Wednesday, March 05, 2003

In the mix

Amy Fine Collins’ recount of ‘The Colony Elite’- the famed clubhouse of New York society- challenged me at undertaking a remix of her well documented report. The Colony was started in 1922 by Gene Cavallero Sr and two of his colleagues, all previous employees of the Restaurant. The threesome bought the ailing place from their boss, the impressario Joe Pani- who’s claim to fame was to have introduced Rudolph Valentino and Broccoli to the American public. Located at 667 Madison Avenue, the Club moved its main entrance to 30 East 61st Street in 1926, in part due to the presence of a gambling club upstairs which attracted mobsters at all hours- Arnold Rothstein among them. From the mid 20s onwards until its closing at Saturday, December 4, 1971, the Club became a veritable enclave of New York society, with a member list that read like a Who’s Who of American royalty. Collins’ report is a thorough example of -in depth- reporting of bigwigs, grand seigneurs, femmes fatales and monster socialites.


- I N S I D E -

She wrote her letter hurriedly
While lunching at Le Cirque-
In the letter she complained
About the crest of souvenirs
That Cubby had sent her

Gene had received the letter and
By mistake passed it on to
The hatcheck man- who after
Reading it- donned his
Finest Capote spoof-
A Parfait d’amour of
Crass submission and
Gutter Press intuition

A less madcap incident
Involved the Wanker-
The thigh-high Pucci girl-
The Blue Mouse- and
Patsy Slater- all dressed out
In Tutus and Tiaras

“This working Mausoleum”
“Hattie handing a $100 tip”
“A marquise cut wedding ring”
“A teacup Poodle”
“In memory of Billy Rose”
“A schedule for marital fights”
“Dames de Lavabo”

-The last one cracked her up-

Concoction and coincidence
Ruled the Restaurant- An account
At the Colony soon became a badge
of successful availability-
Its patrons defined the Major League
Of cosseted clientele

The back room occupants-
A pack of illicit lovers, night owls
and stylish homosexuals like
Fulco di Verdura- or Van Day Truex
Mixed with the bitchy miasma of
socialites like Betsy, Nan, Elsie
Gloria and Brooke

The Colony’s service-
Matched a papal palace-
A bank of Telephone booths-
Heavily draped with thick fabrics-
50 brands of Champagne-
Satin cushions for the pets-
Topped by Valentino’s
splendid décor for the daring-
and discerning

-Cavallero created a monster- a frothy
blue cocktail of prominent socialites-
Young patrons would huddle
with Marco at the bar- while their
wives went into labor at LeRoy’s-

“You’d go for lunch and stay
till dinner”- “The best manners
belonged to White Russian Prince
and ladies’ man Serge Obolensky”-
“Rico spoke six Languages and
could sing Italian Opera by heart
whenever a Patron requested so.”
–“One would think one woman
is sufficient for a man down
on his luck?”

All specimens of
Swans and Mandarins-
Doyennes and Demimondaines
Fashionistas and Curios
were moving
Westbound to Eastbound-
Heading straight for the



Remix from:


By Amy Fine Collins

Vanity Fair – December 2000


posted by Walter at 3/05/2003

Sunday, March 02, 2003

C O M P A S S *


We’re approaching the conclusion of the Make Up Show
-A stretch limousine has stalled just out of Baghdad-

The pilot: Star in a Sonny sans Cher vehicle-
Board Speaker, Neon Vigilante, Faux Cinderella and Hometown Hero
-yawns- then reaches out for a Pretzel

“I propose to launch my first album here” he says
His Album- “Original” a predestined, delusion-infested epic- features

One song,
One song,
One song,
One song-

© O n e S o n g Inc

Under the motorcade- the earth- a spoil of corporate plunder- heaves
the road - a caterpillar tracked elevation- will soon be named
“Avenue of Enterprise” -a causeway of mutant brain cells

“I like this place” he says, looking across the camel-dotted desert
“We’ll see the folks at Strauss’- and have these sobs decked out in blue”
“Let Halliburton change their names- give Stetsons too”

An ominous gleam flares in his eye; and while his icy beak smirks-
He draws a deep breath- and in a charade of authority; whispers “Go- cross the divide”
The pilot -a poacher and a thief- lowers his window; taps on his chauffeur’s cabin -

And beckons his posse to move on-

© Walter van Lotringen 2003


* Committee to Preserve American Security and Sovereignty


posted by Walter at 3/02/2003