A House Divided
Kitty Kelley, the D.C. sleuth whose Elizabeth Taylor: The Last Star was a 1981 best-seller, updates the saga of the one and only Mrs. Hilton Wilding Todd Fisher Burton Burton Warner in the November issue of Washingtonian magazine. Among Kelley’s research techniques: touring (with her husband as a potential buyer) the $2.4 million Georgetown house where Liz lived with Senator John Warner until last winter and which has been on the market ever since. What did she learn? That John was in the process of redecorating a suite of rooms on the second floor to Elizabeth’s specifications when she decided to divorce him. “Signs of Liz were all around,” Kelley tattles. “When it came time to end the marriage,” Kitty postulates, “Warner was the last to know.” Among her other tidbits: Warner, a millionaire who Liz often called “cheap,” billed the star for household expenses during their five years together and once even threatened to charge her kids 15¢ per local phone call. Kelley also claims that Warner chided Liz about her weight—and called her “Chicken Fat.”
A recent inductee to the Country Music Hall of Fame, Marty Robbins is also something of a legend when it comes to wracking up automobiles. The 20-year veteran of the Grand National racing circuit has survived two major accidents, as well as a multitude of cuts, bruises and broken bones. Shrugs Marty, 57, “I’m the official NASCAR wall tester.”
A Nobody Wins Situation
The current edition of Who’s Who in America contains some 75,000 entries, which leaves a whopping 231,915,000 Americans uncited. J.D. Stewart, 48, of Rochester, N.Y., plans to do something about it; his book, Who’s Nobody in America, is expected out next year. Right now, Stewart is collecting biographical sketches. Nobody—no nobody—he says, will be refused space in the volume. What kind of nobodies is Stewart looking for? Oh, you know, the kind who favor beige living rooms, sandwiches on white bread and weekends spent painting bookcases. For the past 16 months, he has been “Chairman of the Bored” of the International Dull Men’s Club, which was founded two years ago in San Francisco but moved to Rochester because Rochester is, well, duller. The club has more than 300 members and plans to compile an annual list of the 10 dullest Americans. “We’re out of it,” says Stewart, “but we’re proud of it.”
Don’t expect to see Prince Andrew return to the Caribbean island of Mustique with Koo Stark—or anyone else, for that matter—at least not before May 21, 1983. Until then, Princess Margaret’s villa there, Les Jolies Eaux (Pretty Waters), is booked solid. That’s according to Philadelphia Realtor Gil Brenner, who, through his firm Variety Leisure, also rents out Christina Onassis’ Corfu retreat and Leslie Caron’s villa in Sardinia. He added Meg’s place to his listings after meeting Prince Charles at the Palm Beach Polo Club in 1980. Brenner has had no trouble finding tenants for the four-bedroom house, which goes for $2,600 to $3,900 a week, depending on the season. The rent includes access to a private beach, plus use of Margaret’s Jeep and staff of three. Margaret notifies Brenner well in advance when she plans to be there and so far has “always held to it.”
•In case you were wondering: Marie Osmond, 23, expecting her first child next May, has ‘fessed up to a craving. And what is it? Sardines with mustard sauce and grapefruit juice.
•With Halloween upon us, author Calvin Trillin recalls enjoying the holiday the most the time he “dressed up as an ax murderer.” Adds the gourmand and occasional food writer, “I was going to give brussels sprouts to the kids who came trick-or-treating, but my wife, Alice, said no.”