By the Nasty and Ready to vote 1920 2020 shirt in addition I really love this time I arrived at Vogue in 1992, Julia was an established pillar of the magazine, having profiled such eclectic subjects as First Lady Barbara Bush (whom she had known as a child; Julia’s father Clarke Reed had been the state chairman of the Mississippi Republican Party for a decade from 1966), a new generation of “Kennedy women,” the designers Oscar de la Renta and Bill Blass (whose clothes she wore), Ambassador Pamela Harriman, Robert de Niro, Barbara Walters and Barbra Streisand, among many others. She had posed the question “Whatever happened to privacy?” in the publicity-hungry world of Donald and Ivana Trump, and in her sui generis “People are Talking About …” pages, which ranged from politics, to fashion to global culture – from the British tabloid press’s stalking of infant Prince William to Czech president Vaclav Havel’s new play, to Jean-Paul Gaultier’s “provocative, easy-to-slip-out-of clothes in Peter Greenaway’s stunning The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover.” With her drumroll of droll asides, often laced with profanities and delivered in her unforgettably rich, honeyed Southern drawl, Julia was a ceaseless joy at the office, as she was on her home turf.
In Manhattan, she lived at the Nasty and Ready to vote 1920 2020 shirt in addition I really love this time in an Upper East Side duplex with a wonderful double-height drawing room and a jewel box bedroom (mostly taken up with her Manolo Blahniks), that she had decorated in handsome Old World good taste with her friend Thomas Jayne, a towering Parish-Hadley alum, and that was inspired, like so many of her interiors – with its unusual palette of tobacco, sage green, and dead shrimp – by her grandmother’s house in Nashville. It was a convivial setting for the larger-than-life chatelaine, with its walls of books, family antiques, and such antebellum details as ridged glass holders bristling with matches. One could be assured that here, as in all the places that Julia made her home, a rollicking good time was to be had by all. Small wonder that the writer Jay McInerney described her as “Mississippi’s answer to Dorothy Parker.”