December 06, 1976 12:00 PM

The security guards came in black tie. The caterer was so exclusive his phone was unlisted. The minister, not to be upstaged by his star-studded flock, came manteled in lilac chiffon. And when the “I do’s” were said and done, nearly everyone agreed that Marisa Berenson’s tying of the gilded knot with millionaire manufacturer James Randall, 32, ranked among the splendiferous bashes of the season in Beverly Hills. “We’re not in California,” gushed one of the 500-plus guests crammed into Randall’s house and grounds. “We’re in Lotusland.”

Subtle it wasn’t, but then it isn’t every day that a debutante turned high-fashion model and movie star (Barry Lyndon) marries a young tycoon in rivets, brushes and gloves (his father’s business). The wedding was more pop than pedigree; the recognizable faces cropping up among the purple orchids and birds of paradise ranged from Ast, Pat to Whitman, Stuart.

Aside from some raucous laughter when the preacher solemnly observed that “physical satisfaction is secondary,” the evening passed in fairly decorous fashion. Marisa and Jim flew to Aspen, Colo. for a honeymoon and, like any couple, left the traditional request with the hotel desk: enough undisturbed privacy for “a lot of sleep.”

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