Remembering Pat Buckley

Bob Colacello's wonderful remembrance of Pat Buckley and her life with husband William F. Excerpt:

As Gstaad became more and more social, in the 70s, so did the scene at the Buckleys'. Nan Kempner would show up every February and take two rooms, one for her and one for her couture gowns. Other regulars included Lynn Wyatt, Brazilian socialite Elizinha Moreira-Salles, and Spanish extra man Pano de Hoyos. As editor of Interview, I was invited to stay in 1978, and I arrived in time for a standard lunch of fettuccine with gobs of pâté de foie gras, stuffed roast pheasant, and chocolate mousse. I had barely taken a sip of the Château Margaux when Pat bellowed, "I cannot understand how a nice Catholic boy like you could work for that creep Andy Warhol!" Julian Booth recalls of those days, "We would have the Greek night, with King Constantine, the Goulandrises, and Taki. Then we'd have a German night, with Count and Countess von Oeynhausen. And then the Danish night, when Princess Benedikt would come. And the Monegasque night--the Grimaldis and David Niven."

Jamie Niven, David's son, says, "My father saw them all the time in the winter. They were really, really close. We called them the Buckles. In the summer they would come and stay at my father's house at Cap-Ferrat. One year, Château de Rougemont burned, and it was terribly damaged. So they moved down the road five kilometers and spent that winter with my father. The harpsichord was saved. It went downstairs in the little wine cave my father had. Bill took that over and worked in there." Jamie, who didn't get along with his stepmother, grew very close to Pat over the years. "I remember I was talking to her on the phone, and she was telling me I couldn't do this and I couldn't do that. I said, 'You know, you're not my mother. You can't talk to me like that.' She said, 'I have been your mother, Sonny, and I shall remain your mother until I die.' So I became Sonny to her, and I would call her up and say, 'Mother, how are you today?'"

How can you not like a woman like that? As I've said on this blog before, Julie and I once enjoyed the Buckleys' hospitality at some NR do at their place in Stamford. Pat was so fierce and imposing that one didn't quite know what to say to her. Julie and Pat got to talking about how rotten it is to have squirrels in one's backyard, because they eat your tulip bulbs. Pat talked about how once she got so outdone with the varmints that she sat on the balcony outside her bedroom with a .22 rifle and picked off the critters one by one.

How can you not love a woman like that?