November 21, 1983 12:00 PM

Fur From the Madding Crowd

“Blood on your backs! Blood on your backs! You’re wrong and you know you’re wrong!” screamed protesters outside the Edwards-Lowell Fur Fashion Show at L.A.’s Wilshire House. All that noise and the vroom-vroom of limos and lesser vehicles dropping off folks such as Jill St. John, Cathy Lee Crosby and Gary Collins, who planned to model the pelts, disturbed the neighbors. One of them by the name of Carol Burnett doesn’t wear furs but decided to drop by anyway to see what all the fuss was about. “It was either call the police or join ’em, so here I am,” she said. Then she pointed to one garment and joked, “I think I’m going to buy #18. I’ve always looked so good in #18.” (It was an ankle-length, silver-fox cape coat modeled by Rod Stewart’s wife, Alana.) L.A. Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda had a different favorite when it came to the models. “I think he looks swell in that fur,” chuckled Lasorda, eyeing San Diego Padre first baseman and ex-Dodger Steve Garvey. “He’s really going to love wearing it in San Diego.”

Act Nice

“I came here to sing, look neat and nice, get the money and leave,” cracked Sammy Davis Jr. on opening night of his two-week stint in a recent Broadway cabaret show with Bill Cosby. To illustrate, Sammy made a casual ritual out of donning his tap shoes. First he removed his dress boots by catching each heel on the edge of a glittering box and flipping the footwear off. Then he put on his tappers with a sparkling shoehorn that reached from his hand to his heel. Explained Sammy, “Ain’t nothing in my contract that says I’ve got to bend over.”

Tone Def

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but in El Paso, Texas it’s the words that have been really dangerous lately. It all began with a September concert in Tucson, Ariz. by the heavy-metal heavies Def Leppard. Not exactly famed for his elegant manners, lead singer Joe Eliott attempted to psych up his audience by deriding a previous concert in El Paso, which he called “that place with all the greasy Mexicans.” When a deejay at El Paso’s KLAQ got wind of the crack a few weeks later, he used explosive sound effects to blow up a Def Leppard record on the air and called for a boycott of their music. The news caused such an uproar that Eliott heard about it by the end of the day in faraway Tokyo. He called from Tokyo to say he was, like the title of their hit single, just f-f-f-foolin’ and didn’t mean any racial slur. That satisfied most of the 3,000 Texans who voted in a station poll to end the DL boycott. But not everyone is so forgiving: A Latin American group in Texas has called for another boycott. What’s more, when Mayor Jonathan Rogers received a letter from Def Leppard saying they would not return to El Paso till invited, he reacted swiftly: “It will be a cold day in hell before they are welcome here again.”

Really Asking for It

After Village Voice film critic Michael Musto panned and fried Pia Zadora’s first film, Butterfly, she sent him a monogrammed leather wallet with a note reading “Loved the piece.” Musto’s review of Pia’s latest effort, The Lonely Lady, is marginally more sympathetic. “We need Pia Zadora,” he writes, “not only as an easy target and a barometer of bad taste, but for some good trashy fun.” To Pia, he adds, “This time, let’s go for a Walkman, okay?”

Separate Beds

It may seem that everybody’s doing it—living together, that is—but not Morgan Fairchild and her love, camera operator Craig Denault. Each having survived divorces and occasional breaks in their own relationship, they just don’t go for the commitment of cohabitation. “You have to give up too much freedom,” Morgan confided to the British press. “You put up with a man’s bad moods, wash his socks, clean up his dinner plates—hell, if I loved someone that much, I’d marry him.”

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