Sex and Vanity(86)

Over the months, my respect for Rosemary has grown as I have watched her tirelessly pursue her special gift as the consummate hostess. She is very social, and her theme parties in East Hampton, thrown on a weekly basis, have already become legendary for their originality. Especially memorable was the Beasts of Burden S&M-themed party that she threw last month, complete with thirteen boa constrictors, a lemur, a cheetah, and dominatrix twins from Berlin. (You should have seen what those twins could do with those snakes!) Rosemary took great effort to line all the hallways leading all the way up to the attic of this National Register Victorian wooden house with tens of thousands of long-tapered medieval candles, flickering away freely, and it was such a success that she has promised to host a similar soiree at her new Manhattan apartment on a bimonthly basis with the same type of candles.

Rosemary is above all a very considerate and polite person, and I have learned from people who have known her far longer about her extraordinary humanitarian work. She has consistently provided a haven to those in need, and her homes around the world have always had an “open door” policy. She has looked after Islamic dissidents released from Guantánamo Bay and homeless Appalachian teenagers addicted to opioids, and after meeting two pregnant Syrian refugees at a UN action alert party, Rosemary invited both women to stay at her home for the duration of their final trimesters and even financed their home births.

Such generosity and sensitivity is a hallmark of Rosemary’s. As she painstakingly sought to create a well-appointed home out of her Hong Kong apartment several years ago, I was told how conscientiously considerate she was to her neighbors during the renovations and the sixty-nine applications of aubergine-colored lacquer to her drawing room. She even rented special trucks with ventilation units to ease the fumes from the building for the fortnight that it took to dry the layers of lacquer. (The effect was stunning. Very much like what Mario Buatta did for the Langerford apartment, before their tragic double suicide.) I am certain Rosemary will do the same in her new home and that she will become a treasured addition to the building.

Sincerely,

Marian Tang Churchill





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


The Animal Rescue Fund Summer Gala



Southampton


Marian, Freddie, Lucie, Charlotte, the board of the fundraising committee, and all the staff and volunteers of the Animal Rescue Shelter of Long Island formed a receiving line at the entrance courtyard of the spectacular thirty-acre oceanfront equestrian estate in Southampton. At 5:40 p.m., a Chevy Suburban could be spotted turning onto the long gravel driveway from the majestic gated entrance, and when it came to a stop outside the front door of the main house, Cornelia Guest (Green Vale School Foxcroft Wheatley / Professional Children’s School), who was at the wheel, stepped out looking like a no-nonsense country girl in a faded yellow T-shirt, Lilly Pulitzer shorts, a pair of flip-flops, and a cardigan slung over her shoulders.

She walked around the SUV and opened the back door, and out tumbled a Great Dane, an equally gigantic Newfoundland, a Great Pyrenees, a Jack Russell terrier, a white West Highland terrier, a Chihuahua, two rescue dogs of indeterminate breed, and an inquisitive black duck. “I thought it’d be fun to bring all my dogs!” Cornelia called out.

Everyone gasped at the delightful menagerie, as the board member who had generously opened up her hundred-million-dollar property for the gala and Marian—already dressed in her heirloom purple silk cheongsam—walked up to greet their VIP. “Ms. Guest, it is such a great honor to have you here with us. Our little fundraiser has become the hottest ticket in town tonight because of you. I can’t thank you enough for your tremendous help!” Marian gushed.

“Oh please, you guys are doing all the work, I’m just coming to a party. I’m so happy to help this worthy cause.”

“May I ask, why is the duck here?” Marian inquired.

“This is Lucky. He thinks he’s a dog and goes everywhere with the pack. Now, where can I change?” Cornelia asked as she took her luggage out of the truck.

Freddie came forward in his dapper new bamboo-print Etro linen blazer and matching linen slacks. “Here, let me help you with your bags.”

“Are you the cutie who roped me into doing this?” Cornelia asked as she handed him her bags.

“Sure am!”

“Yes, this is my son, Frederick, and here’s my daughter, Lucie,” Marian said.

Lucie, in a pink ruffled Alexandre Vauthier cocktail dress cinched at the waist with a black satin bow, came forward and shook Cornelia’s hand, slightly awed.

“What a gorgeous family you are!” Cornelia said, as she was escorted upstairs to a guest suite to get ready.

By 6:30 p.m., the party was in full swing. Marian had decided on a Chinese theme this year, and guests dressed in their festive summer finery wandered around the meticulously manicured grounds just as it was transforming into the golden hour, sipping on mai tais and munching on delectable dim sum appetizers. The central courtyard had been transformed into an ice sculpture fantasyland straight out of Harbin, China, and massive pavilions carved out of ice and lit in a spectrum of colors had been generously flown in for the occasion courtesy of Isabel and Dolfi De Vecchi, who unfortunately could not attend the gala as they were at an intimacy retreat at Lake Titicaca. Meanwhile, towering arrangements of rare flowers encased in blocks of ice by Japanese artist Makoto Azuma stood melting in the late-afternoon sun.