Betty Goodwin
January 30, 1978 12:00 PM

The Club Tipperary is the one Hollywood in-place Tatum O’Neal is too old for. It’s the beauty salon for the super-chic and super-spoiled young scions of showbiz.

The late Elvis Presley’s daughter, Lisa, goes to Tipperary for a do. Likewise Jack Lemmon’s Courtney, Carroll O’Connor’s Hugh, Tony Curtis’ Alexandra and Allegra. Not to mention Julie Andrews’ Amy and Marlon Brando’s Tahitian child Cheyune, who doesn’t speak a word of English. “Mothers call in from all over the world,” says Tipperary’s ever-obliging owner, Jack King. “They tell me they will be in town on such and such a day and would like an appointment for their child.”

Beverly Hills has to be the only town where parents don’t flinch at blowing $75 for Tipperary’s deluxe package of manicure, styling, sunstreaking and perm. Even a plain old-fashioned scissors cut comes to $11.50. Some indulge once a week. But Natalie Wood, whose daughters Natasha, 7, and Courtney, 3, are regulars, thinks it’s money well spent. “They don’t come out looking like little Shirley Temples,” says Natalie. “They don’t even look like they’ve just come out of the beauty parlor. They just look sweet.”

King, 38, a transplanted Englishman with four children of his own, used to work at Beverly Hills’ Saks Fifth Avenue until he founded Tipperary five years ago. “When mothers brought their children into Saks, I always ended up with them,” recalls King. “Nobody else would touch them. I quickly saw the need for a specialized approach, where the child would be king.” (He denies that his clients are overcosseted, but he did wince at the 3-year-old who arrived in a mink coat.)

In Jack’s kiddie kingdom, the blandishments include free lollipops, animal crackers, pinball machines, pachinko—only the pop is not on the house. As for what the children who ought to know want right now, it’s that curly-headed Barbra Streisand look, King says. “Farrah Fawcett-Majors is on the decline. Boys? They like Luke in Star Wars.”

Nearly all the clients are delivered by a chauffeur, maid or even bodyguard—one, reports the proprietor, with all three. A few of the fogies, like actress Mary Ann Mobley and author Brooke (Haywire) Hayward, are there surreptitiously for cuts of their own. “But we have to be smuggled in,” says Mobley. “Grown-ups must be accompanied by children.”

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