Chaffee on wheels
In winter former Olympic skier Suzy Chaffee’s natural habitat is on the slopes, performing the free-style acrobatic derring-do called “hotdogging,” which she practically invented. Come summer she switches to skateboarding, because “it’s fun and uses the same muscles.” In fact, Suzy has just opened a new skateboard park at New Jersey’s Vernon Valley area, where she is director of skiing, with some hotdogging on wheels. Her costume? “Not exactly the safest thing to wear,” she admits. “But I was more concerned with esthetics. Be sure to wear kneepads,” she cautions novices, lest they crash on cement.
Cocker getting Down
Midway in his 1972 tour, British soul singer Joe Cocker and his Mad Dogs and Englishmen were asked to leave Australia following a drug conviction. Back this summer, the scratchy-voiced singer, 33, was still misbehaving. He debarked at Perth airport only to barf on the tarmac. Then, during a televised press conference, he swigged whiskey and splashed insults at reporters. Onstage later, however, Cocker was his usual meek, if spastic, presence—a crowd-compelling version of the parody of himself by John (Saturday Night Live) Belushi.
What does a glamorous Manhattan model do when she’s not looking lissome in Revlon’s Ultima ads? If she’s Lauren Hutton, she gumshoes up to Central Park to check out singer Peter Allen. And after the concert? With a boost from her escort, writer Cliff Jahr, Lauren peeked into Allen’s dressing room van to see if the star was decent (he was). Not that at 5’7½” Hutton needed much of a hike. “With all of her bursting energy,” puffed Jahr, “she should have hoisted me.”
The Danes’ new deal
Before Prince Henrik married Denmark’s Queen Margrethe, he was Henri de Montpezat, a highborn French diplomat. Most months they live in melancholy old Amalienborg Palace in Copenhagen; but come late summer, they follow the soleil with sons Joachim, 8, and Frederik, 9, to Henrik’s home turf, southwest France, where they have a 15th-century chateau in Cahors. The question is, when they break out the pasteboards, what tops a queen? Maybe it all reverts to Hoyle—but after all, the prince, 43, can recall the old days in France when jacks were wild.
Truman’s twinkle toes
The scene was Manhattan’s pulverizing Studio 54 disco, and there was Truman Capote, table-hopping among notables like Geraldine Chaplin and Jimmy Connors until the disco beat finally got to him. Five-foot-three in his dancing slippers—a pair of country-slicker moccasins—the writer warmed up his waltz-cum-tango style on a few of the willowier habituées, then cast about for a less towering inferno. Spotting the tiny lady in sling-back high heels, he went over and, after a peremptory “Let’s dance,” swirled away, clearly delighted at having found his own answered prayer.