06/30/2010 12:00 am
Culture
The Love Story of Liliane Bettencourt
Also from Our Gossip Girl: Prince Harry carries the torch … and the burqa as sign of independence.
Liliane Bettencourt © AP
"OUR ARISTOCRACY, unlike that of Europe, is open to all comers," said Josiah Strong, one of America’s most famous Protestant clergyman.
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WANT TO read an international love story fit to knock off your Dior socks?
Go to the Newyorksocialdiary.com for June 28 and read the gifted historian David Patrick Columbia’s many-page take on the romance between L’Oreal heiress Liliane Bettencourt, 87, and playwright playboy Francois-Marie Banier, 63.
And it’s not just many pages of writing; it’s also fabulous photographs. When Mr. Columbia takes something up; he gives it the works.
I glimpsed Mr. Columbia recently across a very crowded room wherein the charming hostess had invited every second- and third-rate name in NYC, people who still have enough money to go without flinching to pick up checks at Daniels and Le Cirque. But they are one and all a far cry for what passed for society in the bad old days. Not a true funny character in the bunch, no history, no family, just arrivistes and nouveaus and wannabes.
Of course, being the same myself, I shouldn’t criticize and I’m not criticizing them. I’m just noting that life at the top these days resembles life in the middle back in the ’50s and ’60s. And, of course, back then, Cleveland Amory was already writing a book asking "Who Killed Society?" and he was praising the socials of the pre-war years and the ’40s as vastly superior to those who followed.
There is even a marked passage and drop-off from gentility from the time Brooke Astor died in 2007 and there were always those around, in her lifetime, who questioned her provenance, said she’d married for money (I ask, who doesn’t?) and that she was no better than she should be.
Society, so-called, really should never matter in a great democracy. But it does; it always does! (It seems most of us "yearning to be free," down deep inside, crave an aristocracy of sorts to look up to.
This is right in line with Alan Jay Lerner’s song from "Camelot" – to wit, "I wonder what the king is doing tonight?"
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LIZ THOUGHTS: Prince Harry is my new big crush. He is so down-to-earth, nice, genuine and giving. He is the one stepping right into his beguiling mother’s footprints – even through the dangerous minefields. He leaves the heir to the throne, his big brother William, totally in the shade. But, then, of course, the one who will be King of England has to be more dignified and less human. But these boys could restore the monarchy as something to cherish if they go on as they are and don’t make too many missteps.
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The burqa is listed in USA Today as growing "fashionable in Europe." When I was in Turkey a year ago, I was amazed at all the women I saw in designer jeans and high-heeled sexy sandals who were also wearing the burqa. Ataturk, no doubt, keeps turning in his grave at this retro move by women he tried to elevate and liberate in order to modernize Turkey so she could move into the European order of nations. I was told, then, that many burqa wearers are not religious, just making a statement of female independence.
Forgive me if I sound narrow-minded, but in no way can I see veiling yourself in a burqa in torrid countries as making anything or anyone "independent."
But now USA Today says it’s a trend. I guess fashion is desperate; it’s gone about as far as it can go in unclothing women. (Look around you on the city streets; you can see bare feet, bare buns, bare almost everything.) So some women may feel willing to be covered up again.
I don’t think France is correct to tell people what to wear, i.e., legally ban the burqa. But I sure as hell don’t like the trend for wearing it in a so-called civilized country. Prove yourself an independent woman in some other way than allying yourself with the look of all the women forcibly enslaved in the Middle East and Africa.
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How sharper than a serpent’s tooth…an ungrateful daughter who already has most of it but wants all of it. Here’s to Lilliane Bettencourt making it to 100 before "pooping out" although who knows she may be one of those will hit 105 and drop dead on a dance floor. Or 110.
Society. For the most part it has always been the arrivistes and wannabes. Some, however, like Brooke Astor, would have probably made it without the money. Some of the "creme de la creme" in fact never had any. Everyone just assumed they did because they were so interesting. And interested.
Of course I meant Ms. Shearer as Ms. Page.
Dear PaulSmith…"take off the red shoes!"
And if you don’t know "Black Narcissus"—please, go there. Fan.Tas.Tic.
Oh, how I love the films of Powell and Pressburger! The Red Shoes is undoubtedly one of my favorite films of all time. I watch it at least four or five times a year, and I’m always completely swept up in the story. The scene where Victoria Page is summoned by Lermontov, and walks up the long stone staircase to his villa, wearing an amazing blue satin evening gown and a sparkling diamond tiara against her flowing red hair - zowie! The wonder of seeing the ballet legend Leonide Massine - amazing! The magnificent choreography - elegant! And at the end, the speech by Lermontov - "… Miss Victoria Page will not perform tonight —- or any other night!"
Black Narcissus - what a miracle this is, too. That beautiful photography, the sense of desire and renunciation, madness, claustrophobia - what a fan.tas.tic. story indeed. PaulSmith - I join Mr. wOw in urging you to check this one out.
Martin Scorsese is a major fan of Powell/Pressburger: collector of memorabilia, a scholarly commentator on their films, and a brilliant adapter of many of the techniques and camera angles employed by them. On the Criterion Collection DVD of The Red Shoes you can enjoy some terrific commentary by Scorsese that will really "open the films out".
(I always wanted to design a perfume called "Black Narcissus" as an homage to the atmosphere of the film. I think it would have an opening note of pure white florals, including narcissus. As it unfolds, the clean white scent would deepen into a burst of complicated earth and dark green scents - even incorporating the scent of granite, which genius perfumiers have isolated - and then ending in real darkness: ambre, chypre and animalic molecules to echo the scent of the human body.) (I love perfume - can you guess??)
Anyway, next time I watch my Powell/Pressburger films, I’ll pour a glass of wine and raise a toast to you, Mr. wOw.
First, I have nothing but a great deal of applause for The New York Social Diary - with David (David Patrick Columbia) writing so well on such a variety of subjects and people that I find myself reading every single day. The photography is so excellent - often "beautiful" is the word for it - that the combination makes me want to applaud. (And yes, I have told him so!)
And yes, I found the story of Liliane Bettencourt and the younger man — a relationship that has gone on for years, for gosh sake, absolutely great. The woman can take pleasure in her life and her years in a way few can. And why not? Who are we to judge what she does with her money? It seems obvious that she has been given joy — and we don’t even have to spectulate on what else, do we? - and GREAT times are more difficult to find in later years. Or so I hear.
This isn’t the first time David’s weaving of a life in his inimitable fashion on NYSD gave us far more than a glimpse of the world of yet another independent woman. Love his way with words and his use of a magnifying glass when one adds to the tale. What a writer!!!!
As to the burka, my close friend is an American archaelogist with a specialty in Middle Eastern countries - Iran in particular. A head covering is required and she has no complaint. . and she tells so many stories of walking on the small streets of little villages, burka-clad (the scarf), and always having men run from nowhere and hand her one red rose and bow (everywhere with no reason why) … and women who run out from little homes in town after town, taking her hand and inviting this stranger in for tea. The stories of strangers-becoming-friends are so touching, bringing tears —- and certainly not the welcome we would give a stranger walking down our streets. There is a lovely photo of her in a National Geographic about 9 years ago, working at Iranian ruin being unearthed. At the time she was in her 70s. . and probably the most revered woman I have ever personally known.
I took Liz’s advice and clicked onto the story of Liliane Bettencourt and Mr, Banier. I was so impressed with this site and this writer’s skill that I signed up to receive NYSD so that my days can be dazzled like yours and so many others who love the written word and beautiful photography.
I don’t understand Columbia’s take on their relationship, why would he assume they are not having sex? Now that I am growing older, I hope and pray I still have an interest when I am her age. You go girl!!!
OHHH Mary … absolutely love your verve and vitality and unwillingness to give up the ghost on making love at any age !!You have given me a smile that beams … and to you I say "Right on, Mary!!!!" Joan
Joan, I’m a true addict when it comes to the NYSD! It is stylish, well-researched and well-written. Mme. Betancourt’s tale is worthy of Flaubert, I believe. I devoured this story, and will follow the ongoing saga to the end. It definitely goes way beyond mere gossip and becomes a commentary on womens’ independence, romance at ANY age, and the power of a great fortune to tear even blood relationships into shreds.
Speaking of power, I have to say that I tend to regard the burka as a powerful weapon of oppression, regardless of the fashion press that tells us the trend is quite "in", or that it "protects" the honor of women. It is hot, stifling, restrictive and shroud-like. The hijab, on the other hand, may be worn with more comfortable - if modest - clothing.
Years ago, I went to Morocco, and visited a friend from college who lived in Casablanca. She advised me before I came to bring a scarf, as her parents were rather traditional. I had a marvelous visit in their beautiful, cool home, wore the scarf happily (and, I hope, with a little of the stylish verve my friend and her sisters wore theirs!) and would gladly wear one again as a sign of respect. But when I see burka-clad women, I cannot feel good about it. I can feel oppression’s heavy boot heel. Are there women who are happy to wear the burka? Undoubtedly there are, and I cannot cast aspersions on their decision. I just wish that it did not reek of centuries of harsh, misogynistic interpretation of Koranic law.
Other countries often hand over ceremonial duties to a titular head of state with no real powers — sort of a national nanny.
In Japan, the head of state is effectively the emperor. In Germany, it’s the ceremonial president. In Britain, it’s the queen. Canada divides the job of head of state between Queen Elizabeth (a freebie since she’s on the British payroll) and her representative, the governor general.
Aristocracy, plied from our mother country, had a good long play in America, but it has come to its last act as has our Wasp influence. We are now entering into not only the greening of America, but the browning of and I’d say, in a democracy that’s a good thing except it would be such fun to have a King and Queen to take the place of all those that think they are.
The Burka! I’ve tried to understand, but the idea of hiding yourself in some uncomfortably warm cover-up defies my idea of freedom or religious adherence to whatever law that dictates to women what they should wear.
Cass Timberlane, a novel by Sinclair Lewis, one of our long dead, respected American writers. He, of the novel Babbitt, one of our classics plus we still use the term Babbitt to describe a typical American type of business man.