Jagger Makes Cover of Vogue
Elizabeth Scarlett Jagger, the 17-year-old daughter of rocker Mick Jagger and his ex-wife, model Jerri Hall, has been photographed for the cover of American Vogue magazine.
Elizabeth, who dropped out of school to follow in her mother's footsteps against Jagger's advice and counsel, was shot by Marco Glaviano. The pictures should cause a sensation when they're released — possibly this summer.
This column reported recently that the 5'9" Jagger (with a listed shoe size of 10) was living in her father's New York townhouse with her boyfriend, 23-year-old South African male model Damien van Zyl. But now sources tell me that Elizabeth has moved into her own apartment, and taken Damien with her.
Mick Jagger, according to sources, has sold the Upper West Side townhouse he had previously called home.
The whole Jagger family recently had dinner at New York's Le Cirque restaurant with Atlantic Records co-founder Ahmet Ertegun.
Last week, Hall and Elizabeth were seen having lunch with Eileen and Jerry Ford, the owners of Ford Modeling Agency where Hall started out as a client and where her daughter is now a new star.
I was privileged to attend a reading of a new play called Swifty on Friday afternoon. It's written by Christopher Hart, based on the biography of the late and quite legendary literary agent Irving Paul "Swifty" Lazar, which itself was written by Annette Tapert.
Annette and her husband Joe Allen were present, as were members of the Hart family, including the mesmerizing Kitty Carlisle Hart, Christopher's mother. I hesitate to add that Kitty is probably 90 and change, but she is a miracle: stunning, elegant, erect, and wearing high heels. There is no one else like her on face of this planet.
When I asked her what she was up to, she asked me to tell my readers she'd be appearing soon in her one-woman show in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. My advice, if you live there — get your tickets now. I've seen the show and it's remarkable.
Also present, and defying logic and gravity, was the play's producer, David Brown. David is 80 and change, and scoping out his next five projects. He was dapper as usual.
A footnote here is that David was a client of Lazar's, as was the late Moss Hart, playwright, Christopher's father and Kitty's husband. Indeed, Kitty had with her the daughter of Moss Hart's playwrighting partner, George S. Kaufman. You can't take it with you, but you can bring it all to a staged reading, so they did.
Richard Dreyfuss, who last worked for David Brown in the movie Jaws some 25 years ago, read Lazar's part and was exceptionally good. If this play does make it to the New York stage sometime soon, it would be a shame if Dreyfuss doesn't come with it. He had Lazar's phonied-up accent and mannerisms down cold, and made him a sympathetic character when in reality he shouldn't be.
I learned that Lazar's real name was Samuel, and that he invented the "Irving Paul" part. That he hated the nickname "Swifty." That Frank Sinatra and his Rat Pack pals treated him very badly. And that Lazar's late wife, Mary, insisted on his clients and the show-biz world taking Lazar seriously and not as a Sammy Glick kind of joke.
Some of Lazar's famous clients included Jackie Collins (who should somehow be a character in any revised version), her sister Joan Collins, Ernest Hemingway, Noel Coward and so on and so forth.
Milton Berle makes a too-long cameo in this version of the play, but I heard later that this part is being trimmed to make room for more anecdotes about Lazar's life with the rich and famous. OK by me, since all we wanted was more, more, more about this Hollywood legend, the likes of whom — sadly — we shall never see again.
John Scanlon died much too early — age 66 — at the end of last week. The New York Times had a good obituary on him, and you should read it. I knew John. I remember him, standing arms wide open in front of his Sag Harbor manse, Hemingway-like, so happy just to show it off. He was one of a kind, larger than life and everything around him.
John was a public-relations man, but like none before him or anyone who will follow. He was on the onerous side of just about every debate you could imagine — he liked representing dictators, for example — but he was so damned charming it didn't matter.
I guess in the end you can't drink, smoke, and eat everything you damn well like. It's just too bad. If Brian Dennehy is smart he'll buy the rights to John's life story, pronto, so the world will know what it's missing.
To respond to the writer, e-mail firstname.lastname@example.org