High life
Soul of forgiveness
Taki
here was another naval invasion that took place last week but, unlike the one 50 years ago, this one failed miserably. Some- where south of Mykonos, the brave ship Bushido, cruising at 30 knots, spotted the Althea, a 120 foot, two-masted schooner, chartered for the pleasure of Sharon Stone by her Greek sponsor. The boarding party on Bushido consisted of Chuck Pfeifer, of Vietnam Special Forces fame; Michael Mailer, amateur boxer like his dad, Nor- man, and a very talented screenwriter; Richard Johnson, a writer; John Mosley, ex-captain of the Notre Dame football team; Willy von Raab, Commissioner of Customs during the Reagan administra- tion, and yours truly. The plan was to invite ourselves on board the sailing boat and sort of kidnap la Stone from the Hollywood bores that littered the decks of the Althea. Pfeifer had claimed that he knew her and there would be no problem.
As it turned out, Pfeifer had done a Clinton. Sharon took one look at the six hunks leering at her and disappeared below deck. The only Pfeiffer she knew was Michelle. Alas, the Viet vet had admitted he may have been economical with the truth regarding the Basic Instincts star. Dis- gusted, I ordered Bushido around and we headed back to Mykonos empty-handed and randier than ever.
And speaking of randiness, we've read all week about Sir Charles Dilke and Lord Palmerston, but it was Talleyrand that bed- ded three generations of the Duchess of Dino. Talleyrand was a hell of a man, as is Alan Clark. Libel laws prevent me from saying what I feel regarding Alan Clark's accusers, but suffice it to say that even I, a saint, have been guilty of bridging the generation gap, and not only on one occasion. Why should a daughter not enjoy the same pleasures as her mother or even a daughter's daughter those of her grand- mother? The Prince of Benevento plea- sured granny, mother and granddaughter, proving that at heart he was a democrat. Or perhaps somewhere else.
Look at it this way. If Alan Clark was prime minister now, the Tories would not be the laughing stock of Europe. He is rich and smart and brave, and his wife loves him, and a man with such attributes will always draw the envy of his inferiors. So what else is new? If there is a granddaugh- ter, I hope he does her, too.
What I would like to do, however, is set the record straight. A couple of weeks ago, while reviewing the Henderson diaries, Alastair Forbes stated that I would agree that Greek men are cowards. I wonder why Forbes says such rubbish. I've said that the Greek socialists are crooks, and that the government is cowardly, but I also believe that a Greek soldier will wipe the floor with most people, especially with Ameri- cans like Forbes. The French fell in six weeks and the Dutch were out of action in 12 hours, but little Greece fought on for six months, and it's a bit rich of Forbes to go around maligning us. I don't know what he did after the Americans entered the war and I don't care, but I do know that he attended a hell of a lot of chic cocktail par- ties while we were fighting the Axis. If he wasn't as old as he is, I'd give him a thrash- ing he would remember until his last social climb, but then I'm a forgiving soul.
In fact, I'd completely forgotten it last Saturday, when once again I attended the Louis Vuitton Concours D'Elegance at Hurlingham. Although the weather did not help, it certainly didn't spoil the fun. Kate Reardon and Hilary Weston made my evening, but the champagne also helped. I wish to thank Herve Martin and Caroline Kemp for their generosity, but most of all I want to thank those who designed the bra Kate was wearing that evening. Never have so many looked for so long at two objects. Later I took them and their proprietor to Annabel's where I proceeded to become confused and ... oh well, you know the rest.
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