Gosh, just think of it! Two of my grandest and most enduring obsessions all in the very same quote. Fancy!
There is something completely singular, unique, and all-consuming about the relationship between women like me — whose first little girl crushes tend to be not on their manly daddies or boyish Ken dolls, but on guys like Uncle Arthur or Charles Nelson-Reilly — and their legions of beloved gay male friends. I swear to christ, so much do I love and adore them and require their company, creativity, humor and influence…that if I weren’t already married, I would marry each and every one of them — and live happily ever after in a tastefully decorated, Mid-Century cottage by the sea.
So, all my love, respect, gratitude, admiration, and awe…to the gorgeous, glorious, glamorous Godmother and Patron Saint of Fag Hags everywhere: Miss Babe Paley.
Thanks, Saint Babe, for showing us how it’s done — and for putting up with that brilliant, vicious little bitch, Truman, for as long as you did. He was a pain-in-the-ass, true — but man, was he extraordinary…and so were you.