The Late, Great Nan Kempner

I was so saddened to hear of the death of Nan Kempner this weekend. She was one of those REAL New York socialites and I regard her book, "RSVP" as a bible of the right way to host a party and how to prepare truly entertaining meals. One of my sweet boys, Terrance Enright, wrote in his column yesterday, "..now there are only two socialites left in the world: Alexis and Kitty Carlysle." That was nice of you Terrance, but Nan (and Kitty) were in a world far removed from our realm.

I met her once at Diana Vreeland's annual party at the Met for her costume exhibit. It may seem shallow, but we waited and planned all year long for this event; silly as it may sound, nothing excited us more than dancing at the Met's Temple of Dendur every year. We boys pulled out our tuxes, and the girls (and some of the boys) made extragant gowns. One year my neighbor, Milan, ran up to me and said, "Alexis, Alexis! There's someone I want you to meet". Milan was the most pompous creature to walk the earth, but he DID know everyone and I was always be introduced to "the right people" (his phrase, not mine).

I was hustled up to the thinnest woman I ever saw and it was Nan; later I would learn that she was called the "x-ray" because she looked like a walking one. She was elegant, dressed in the most extraordinary clothes and jewels, but was kind enough to chat with me for several moments about clothing (I was studying apparel design). She was accompanied by an odious man named Jerry Zipkin, a professional "walker" of rich ladies. He didn't say a word to me; he was an old, fat fag, and I was a young, thin handsome one.

Sadly, everyone passes on someday, but in the case of Nan there are few replacements of her caliber. The many charities she ran meant more to her than the parties and New York must feel the void. Poor Kitty; she's running out of girlfriends.