My mothers mother, Babs Hunter Reavis, 1892-1981, was truly a New York grande dame. They named my first name, Reavis, after my mom's maiden name. Towards the end of her life, Babs lived alone in a crumbling townhouse on 80th st. between 5th and Madison (except for a Chinese butler and family who lived in a room behind the kitchen). When she died at the time unfortunately "novea pauvre", we sold the house. It has since been completely renovated inside restoring it's full beauty and at one point belonged to Lucille Roberts whom I had mail correspondence with. I don't know who owns it now, but walking past it on the way to the met a couple of years ago a rather tweedy gentleman was coming out and i gawked in and he was at first horrified but then struck up some short chat with me (then I went the met and paid a quarter). In Babs last days she could be seen walking her viscous dachshund along 5th Avenue in her signature cobalt blue tinted pointy black sunglasses, a real leopard skin coat and matching purse and a cigarette holder clenched in in her teeth. I still have one of her less ornate cigarette holders replete with teeth gashes, as well as other Babs memorabilia. There is a huge amount of information on her at my Dad's house, including society newspaper clippings, extra marital affair love letters, an enormous oil painting of her in pearls and a yellow Balenciaga gown circa 1940's, an enormous bronze bust (that's the head, you know), as well as all sorts of strange things we've kept in a gigantic scrap book. We still have all 5 or so of her original Fortuny gowns at my mothers with original hand painted and bejeweled Fortuny belts. She was a bit loopy toward the end as well as a very tiny lady and she hacked off the bottom of a couple of Fortuny gowns (as well as gold spray painted every antique in the house within reach of her small height towards the end of her life). The photo below was taken in the autumn of the late 60's or early 70's by my dad at 'The Creek Club' with a Leica. She ALWAYS had some special scotch to drink (she would abusively berate waiters that brought the wrong one) as well as poland spring water w/out ice at all times. She died in 1981 on New Years Eve (the butler found her). The story goes that she was walking back and forth from the bed which had folded clothes on it to her Louis Vuitton steamer trunk for her annual trip on the QE (or QE II?) and tripped and fell and died. Her gargantuan marquis diamond ring was never found.
I plan on having a Babs Memorabilia Web Event complete with movie clippings, hair clippings and intimate imagery as soon as i can comb over them at some point this summer. I will keep you posted.
- Mr. Reavis Hunter Eitel
* PLEASE CLICK ABOVE IMAGE TO ENLARGE *
No comments:
Post a Comment