When I was first reading that Oleg Casinni memoir a spell back, I realized I need to get to know better this Woolworth heiress, Barbara Hutton, he casually mentions throughout
Heiress to the 5 and dime fortune (worth $2 billion in today's money. Paris Hilton she is not!), she was dubbed "poor little rich girl" by the gossip columns because despite all her money (or perhpas because?), she suffered with depression and a series of failed marriages to a whole deck's worth of princes and knaves more interested in her pocketbook than her heart
And like all good mid-century divas, she married frequently making sure to throw a fagela in the mix for flava
And a Hollywood star
(Before there was Ben-nifer, the press sharply labelled these two "Cash and Cary")
And then spent her twilight years with young men folk. (Oh Barbara! What would the lunch counter say!)
Barbara ended up giving away so much of her vast fortune that when she died $3,500 was all that was reportedly left in her account. That bitch knew how to live!
("What?! Can't take it with you.")
Or at least I think that's how her life petered out according to Wikipedia. I never got to finish this out of print book because on a recent drinking marathon with Miss JB, I have a cloudy, cloudy recollection of a tirade on illiteracy. During said tirade I was slamming this book in my palm because nothing proves your point like a trashy biography.
I've never seen that book since.
If found please return to It Can't All Be Dior headquarters. You ll know it cuz it's bright yellow and the San Giuseppe festival is going on right outside my door.