This is the book on my nightstand now,
Bals.
(courtesy of the library)
Actually, it's so big it's taken the place of my nightstand.
True to its name, it's a sort of pornography.
But no one is nude.
(thank God)
It's kind fabulousity overload....I just may end up with a hangover.
But I'm not complaining.
Here's a short film from the publishers about it. (Books have trailers now? I didn't realize.
I guess books that cost $195.00 do. I better not spill any diet coke on it.)
(Oh, and not to namedrop, but that's Princess Radziwill at the Black and White Ball of 1966 on the cover, btw)
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| Here's the inner cover, with the Baron and Baronne de Rothschild at their Surrealist Ball of 1972 |
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| Table of Contents |
At the Baron de Red
é's Oriental Ball in 1969.
About de Red
é (in black), we hear this tidbit:
"This remarkable change in his fortune was effected by a bisexual, party loving antique collecting, multimillionaire Chilean guano baron, Arturo Lopez Wilshaw" who snatched the young de Redé up and set him up in high style. "This remarkable menage a trois survived over 20 years...and Redé and Lopez-Wilshaw's widow remained close friends after his death."
a "Bisexual Chilean Guano Multimillionaire"
Now
there's a phrase we don't hear
nearly enough nowadays, do we?
Well, I don't at least.
Brigitte Bardot at the Oriental Ball
Jacqueline de Ribes and her identical handmaidens at the Beistegui Ball in 1951.
(
I just love this photo....so fabulous and creepy)
Leonor Fini looking like a figure in one of her paintings at the Beistequi Ball
The dashing John Jacob Astor IV.... before his death on the Titanic
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| The Grand Duke Alexandrovich at Czar Nicholas 2nd's Romanov Ball |
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| Camel riders at the Cuevas Ball in 1953 |
Frank and Mia at Truman Capote's Black and White Ball in 1966
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| Warhol at the Black and White Ball |
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| Marisa Berenson as Marchesa Luisa Casati for the Rothschild's Proust Ball in 1971. That, by the way, must be one the most fabulous sentences I've had the joy to type. |
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| La Liz at the Proust Ball |
My favorite part of the book so far is from Cecil Beaton, (about whose sex life I learned more than I ever wanted to know a few months ago) in regards to this (his) photo:
"I have always loathed the Burtons for their vulgarity, commonness and
crass bad taste, she combining the worst of US and English taste, he as
butch and coarse as only a Welshman can be. She wanted compliments. She
got none. I felt I must be professional and continued, but not without
loathing at this monster. Her breasts, hanging and huge, were like those
of a peasant woman suckling her young in Peru. They were seen in their
full shape, blotched and mauve, plum. Round her neck was a velvet ribbon
with the biggest diamond in the world pinned on it. On her fat, coarse
hands more of the biggest diamonds and emeralds, her head a ridiculous
mass of diamond necklaces, sewn together, with a snood of blue and black
pom-poms and black aisprey aigrettes. Sausage curls! Alexandre, the
hairdresser, had done his worst. And this was the world's biggest draw!
In comparison everyone else looked ladylike." - via The Unexpurgated Beaton Diaries, 1970-1980
What a bitch!
How I wish I had been there next to him.
