RIP, Lee

Lee books

My bedside table

“When I was young, I used to think that everyone should die at 70 . . . but my closest friends, like Rudolf and Andy [Warhol] and to an extent Capote, let alone most of my close family . . . didn’t even reach that age. There is something to be said for being older, and memories.”–Lee Radziwill, to the NYT, 2013

There’s really not much more I can say about Lee, though I felt the need to say something about her passing yesterday. The *blog entry* I wrote on her–also in 2013–has had over 1,100 page views today since the news broke of her death. (It’s by and far my most viewed blog, and probably always will be.) I’ve read a few obituaries today, and–while some are complimentary–several are scathing. (I’m looking at you, Washington Post…whatever clueless millenial intern wrote that should be ashamed).

Lee was a complicated creature who lived in a complicated world during complicated times; who of us hasn’t been in the same shoes, to an extent? Her shoes just happened to be couture. May she be remembered for her good taste, above all. RIP, Lee.


lee blue cape

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