Liz Smith

Liz Smith is a columnist and a recurring presence in Andy Warhol’s social world, appearing at premieres, openings, and private celebrations as well as in the printed accounts of those events. Her significance lies in this double position: she is both a participant in celebrity gatherings and a writer whose columns can make a party or a rumor visible beyond the room. The diary records her less through a continuous personal history than through these repeated crossings between social occasion and public report.

Columnist and Social Witness

The diary presents Liz as someone whose column gave events a second life. After a Sunday gathering at a Greek restaurant, Andy noted that her column made the party sound especially glamorous in retrospect. The observation captures a small but important feature of her role: the newspaper account did not merely preserve what had happened; it could make the occasion seem more vivid and desirable after the guests had gone home. Andy’s amusement also shows that he understood the difference between attending an event and encountering its polished version in print.

Her reporting could also circulate claims about private life. In June 1983, Andy recorded a column in which Liz described Calvin Klein denying a rumor that he had AIDS and appearing healthy and happy while away in Morocco. The diary offers this as a report about the rumor and Klein’s denial, not as confirmation of the rumor. Her column thus appears as a public forum in which a personal allegation and a response to it could be presented to readers, with the distinction between reported speculation and established fact remaining consequential.

The subject returned in a later social setting. At a party, Harvey Mann, who worked for Liz, asked Andy whether he had heard anything more about Calvin and AIDS, adding that the rumor had been killed in the column. Calvin then arrived and greeted Andy. The sequence shows how newspaper coverage and private conversation overlapped: a question prompted by what was circulating in print led directly into an encounter with the person at the center of the talk. Liz herself is not described as present for that exchange, but her column and her staff member’s question connect her work to the scene.

Appearances at Celebrity Gatherings

Liz’s social appearances place her among the recognizable guests at major events. At the Houston premiere of Urban Cowboy, she and Iris Love sat in matching cowgirl outfits, an apt contribution to an occasion organized around the film’s Western styling. The diary records the premiere as a heavily attended public spectacle, with photographers, fans, and celebrities gathered at the theater. Liz’s costume made her part of the event’s visual performance, while her presence alongside other guests situated her within the same network of public figures she covered.

In July 1980, she attended Lynn Wyatt’s birthday dinner at Cap Ferrat. Estée Lauder was there, and Wyatt introduced Andy to Johnny Carson; Liz was seated with Andy at a table near the swimming pool, while Carson and David Niven occupied another table. The account places her not at the center of the introductions but among the guests sharing the evening’s social scene. The diary also lingers on the fireworks and the gathering’s celebrity company, giving a sense of the lavish occasion in which Liz’s participation was one thread among many.

At the Monte Carlo exhibition opening for Andy and Jamie Wyeth, Liz arrived with Iris Love. After the receiving line, Andy recorded Liz’s judgment that it was the chicest opening party they had attended. Her comment serves as an immediate assessment of the event from someone accustomed to such gatherings. Alongside the practical business of meeting guests and identifying possible portrait subjects, the opening became an occasion whose success could be measured socially as well as artistically.

Parties, Reports, and Public Image

Liz’s role as a witness and commentator is especially clear when the diary moves between a gathering and its later treatment in print. Her account of the Greek-restaurant party made it seem better after the fact, while her report on Klein’s denial carried a rumor into public discussion. These are different kinds of column work, but together they show how her writing could amplify both the glamour of a social occasion and the scrutiny attached to a public figure. The diary repeatedly places her in settings where celebrity is not only performed in person but also shaped by what appears in the papers.

That shaping could influence how other people responded. When Bianca Jagger was asked about newspaper items describing Calvin Klein and his model Kelly as a prominent pairing, she dismissed the account. The diary does not establish what Liz wrote about that particular item, nor does it say she was present when Bianca responded. It does, however, record the public story and Bianca’s contrary reaction, illustrating the gap that could open between a column’s presentation of a relationship and the view of someone asked to comment on it.

The diary’s recurring references to Liz therefore do not amount to a single portrait of her private character. Instead, they build a picture through professional traces and social encounters: a column that retrospectively heightens a party, coverage of a public rumor and its denial, and appearances at openings and celebrations. Her presence links the immediate world of tables, premieres, and introductions to the broader circulation of celebrity news. In that sense, she is both part of the scene and one of the means by which the scene reaches people who were not there.