High life
Fame and fortunes
Taki Gstaad A of today, I declare the silly season open. Macrologist gentlemen of the press, and I use the G word in its broadest sense, should feel free to write about subjects they know little about — and be thought of as fools — rather than stick to things they're familiar with, and remove all doubt. There is nothing as foolish as the British press in the midst of manufacturing stories during the summer months. Nothing, that is, except for the American media throughout the year. And speaking of fools, what about the gang that couldn't shoot straight and mistook Ivana Trump's chauffeur for the fuzz? Apparently the gang was stalking her but were thwarted by the driver's presence. La Trump lives two doors away from me, and during the summer months she enter- tains on her roof terrace — in full view of the paparazzi and, I presume, the various gangs that stalk the rich and infamous around Cadogan Square. What I found fas- cinating was the manner in which the hacks described the plot. The Donald's ex was said to have a fortune of £35 million and to sport a one million quid sapphire and dia- mond engagement ring. Now the hack who wrote this wouldn't know a million pound ring from the phoney one he tried to palm off on his grotty girlfriend.
Which reminds me. About 25 years ago, a behemoth Frog by the name of Jean-Noel Grinds, the uncle of that other great Frenchman, Thierry Roussel, told my friend Yanni Zographos that he was on the market for a diamond ring for his Swedish girlfriend. 'She needs a car to get around, not a diamond,' answered Yanni. 'Where Can one buy a phoney car?' said Grinds. But back to Ivana. I quote: 'She is fre- quently photographed sipping the most expensive champagne and wearing fabulous clothes while mixing with celebrities at the World's most glamorous night-spots.' All I can say is where in God's name can I buy such a smart camera, one that can tell Whether the bubbly is any good or not? Further down my street lives Mogens Tholstrup, the Danish restaurateur whose ambivalence over Tara Palmer-Tomkinson rivals that of the other Dane of Elsinore. The hacks have reported that Tara has left him for Lord John Somerset. This they got right. What they failed to report was that She first caught him in flagrante with the
keep of an MP, whose name I shall Keep out of it. Tara, Mogens, Lord John
and the unnamed lady are good friends of mine. As Onassis once said after he had been caught in similar circumstances with Maria Callas, 'I'm a sailor, and these things happen to sailors.' Amen, says yet one more Greek sailor.
Given the fact that it is now officially the silly season and that France won so many medals at the Olympics, I would be amiss in my duty were I not to mention two other victorious Frenchmen, the aforementioned Thierry Roussel and one Philippe Lizop. Roussel needs no introduction. He is the all-time gold medal winner in fortune hunt- ing. His latest gambit is to go to Greece to try and convince a Greek court that the Onassis Foundation is incapable of han- dling the multi-billion dollar fortune of Athena, his daughter with Christina Onas- sis, and that he can manage it better. Rous- sel rises to the occasion of easy money not unlike the way Michelangelo rose to the ceiling. He has already collected more than 70 million greenbacks from the Onassis estate, but being a useless businessman he wants more. I only hope he hasn't 'got' to some Greek judge.
Lizop has not won as many gold medals as Roussel, but he's in there trying hard. Lizop represented the former Sally Croker- Poole in her divorce from the Aga Khan. It is reported he got her 50 million. She then went ahead and sold some of the family (his) jewels which made her even more secure. While all this was going on, Lizop left his American wife and three children and started playing house with Sally baby. They now live together in Geneva, London and other various places. He is 39 and burly, she is 58 and delicate. It may be the silly season, but it's France's year for gold.
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