HUNGRY GERALD

Eileen Ford, the grande dame of model agencies, died this week and received a rather reverential front page obituary in the New York Times. The obit did mention, however, that the lady could be nasty and imperious with would-be models. She sure was with young BSK in l963. BSK met with Ford in hopes of doing some part time modeling (the HG/BSK bank balance needed some augmentation). Ford, clad in a proper skirt and sweater twin set, disapproved of BSK’s clothes: A stylish Tuffin and Foale maroon melton pants suit. Pants were not appropriate for wear in a city, said Ford. Ford suggested BSK lose 16 pounds and get a nose job if she wanted a modeling career. BSK did not take Ford’s counsel. BSK continued to eat sensibly, wear pants and breathe through an unaltered nose, a distinguished mark of BSK’s Norman ancestry. Two years later, BSK (and baby daughter Lesley) were featured in a photo layout in the New York Herald Tribune (the newspaper that harbored Jimmy Breslin, Tom Wolfe and other outstanding journalists while giving birth to what became today’s New York Magazine). The article was about BSK’s way with fashion (the writer/editor Eugenia Sheppard called BSK “a pants addict”). Ms. Sheppard found BSK to be elegantly svelte and dubbed her “a hipless hippie.” An interesting piece of observation since BSK was neither “hipless” nor a “hippie.” Oh, well. The years have rolled by. Fashion and much else has changed radically. BSK remains a constant. Still a beautiful pants addict.

HG’s favorite newspaper (and BSK’s) was the New York Herald-Tribune. Unlike the Times, it was never stodgy. And, its editors valued good writing. HG read the “Trib” (as it was familiarly called), from HG’s high school days until the paper ceased publication in 1966. Its sports page columnists, Red Smith (later with the Times) and Joe Palmer (who covered horse racing), transcended sports. Their columns were founts of wit and erudition. Later, Jimmy Breslin did a column (as did the late Dick Schaap). Homer Bigart was a great war correspondent. Walter Kerr was the drama critic. Tom Wolfe made his bow in the Trib’s Sunday Magazine, “New York”, guided by two brilliant editors, Sheldon Zalaznick (later with Forbes) and the late Clay Felker (Felker headed the group that bought ‘New York” after the Trib folded and turned it into the weekly magazine that continues to sparkle today). The hangout for Trib reporters and editors (as well as guys from the Daily News, Newsweek and Business Week) was the eccentrically named Artist and Writers Restaurant (formerly club) at 215 W. 40th. Nobody ever called it by that name. It was “Bleeck’s,” named after its proprietor. The cuisine was German (so were the waiters). The bartenders were Irish. The big activity at the bar was the “match game.” Loser in the game bought the winners drinks. The Trib’s society columnist, the gourmand-dandy-fashion plate Lucius Beebe, played the game with golden matches he kept in a special leather case. That guy had style. HG dined (and drank) at Bleeck’s many times. HG only supped on one dish, Konigsberger Klopse. This is a Prussian dish — veal-beef-pork meatballs in a lemony sour cream and caper sauce (an abundance of capers). Bleeck’s added a handful of dill to the dish and served it with boiled potatoes (or noodles) plus braised red cabbage. Mighty tasty and perfect with dark German beer. Tom Wolfe and Jimmy Breslin (both in their eighties) are alive and productive (as is HG). But, Bleeck’s, like the Trib, is long gone.