I have loaned cars, houses, jewelry and clothes with pleasure. The results have always been happy. I have learned not to loan money — give it, or don’t do it.

Anything, as long as no one tries to sit at my desk. I even resent it when a member of the family is sitting there at my urgent request, fixing my computer problem.

Of course, I lend everything and my friends lend back. Especially in the old days. Ali MacGraw lent me a strapless Halston to wear to the Golden Globes in the days before we all had stylists, and when I could still fit into her stuff. I had a close friend who lent everything and then decided to charge, which kind of took the charm out of it. Like Cynthia, I do not lend money. I give it and don’t expect to see it back. And I lend my old NYC apartment, which is often empty till my daughter moves in. I just lend it to a few tight friends who always take great care of it.

Where family is concerned I have no rules and lend whatever is needed; with friends and employees, I have many times lent money. I don’t always love doing it but I’m a soft touch.

I loan anything to my family and pals, provided they take care of it. But if they mess it up — in the words of George W., "If you fool me once shame on you. If you fool me … you can’t uh … get … uh … fooled again … er …"

I have never felt I owned anything but I am not asked for anything except money or the use of a house. There has been only one thing I have resented — but it wasn’t lending, it was being taken over.

I had a little port at my house in France. It was a postage stamp, but it had great steps into the sea. Every morning I would put down my blue-and-white beach towels. Within an hour strangers would be on them oiling themselves. I paid a hefty French tax for that little piece of cement and although you can’t stop anyone from using your steps into the sea in France they can’t pause. It used to raise my blood pressure to risk level to see those strangers on my blue-and-white towels taking over my little port. Police would come. My husband would start a fight with one of them. They would insist it was theirs as much as ours — oof!

I finally learned to put two small but expensive-looking chairs there, which suggested one would have to pay to stay there. Voila! No one ever sat on those chairs.

Materially, I am there for family and friends. Anything I possess is theirs to share without question. I am not as generous with myself, however, as I am with material things since I am somewhat introverted and a bit too reclusive. Because of this, there are people who may not know how deeply I care for them. I want to change this about myself and am working on it. I want to be as generous with myself as I am with my possessions. I want to be truly open and generous in spirit — generous of my time, my heart and mind.

When my husband and I had to get out of our house in the French Quarter in New Orleans, our new house wasn’t ready. My evil contractor assured me we’d be able to move in within two weeks so we moved for what we thought was a short stay into my friend Elizabeth’s guest house. We ended up staying six months.

Elizabeth and I have know each other since we were born, thank God, and are used to sharing everything, including space. An English secretary that is now in my house was parked in her mother’s house for years because my own mother did not have a place to put it. My first sofa originally belonged to Elizabeth’s Aunt Fanny and it made the grand tour from Mississippi to DC to Florida to New York before landing back at Elizabeth’s sister McGee’s house in New Orleans. Recently, Elizabeth rented her house out to a famous rock star who was recording an album in New Orleans, so she came to live on our third floor for two months. I still "owe" her four months, but we don’t actually keep tabs, and we know we barely have to ask when we need something.

My point is there is nothing off-limits where the people I love are concerned, whether it is money, homes, cars or jewelry (McGee wore my pearl and diamond earrings when she married last year), and I am very, very lucky to have friends who feel the same way. Also, I always end up gaining more than I lend. My friend Jessica’s son Taylor lived with us for three months when he came to New Orleans last year to start his career as a chef and he was a total gift. I went to visit Taylor just days after he was born in Los Angeles and now he is an amazingly fine young man who enriched our lives immeasurably while he was in residence. The dog went into a prolonged funk after he left and our kitchen has never been as clean since. Fortunately, he is only a few blocks away, but I wouldn’t trade anything for that time.