spades. First there were the fashionnmagazines, a continuing source of exposurenfor Warhol. They made Andy.nHe was—and is—their boy: in the Septembern1982 issue of Vogue, for example,nthere are three consecutive, fullcolor,ntwo-page ad spreads for Halston,nan arrangement that, in terms of size,nlocation, and printing is not inexpensive.nEach spread is for one or a group ofnHalston’s lines. Each is a drawing boldlynsigned “Andy Warhol.” Thirty-threenyears passed between this series and hisnfirst page of shoes in Glamour; Andy isnstill the fair-haired boy.nH owever, fashion magazines alonencouldn’t do the trick; they needednassistance. On the one hand there wasnthe influential Henry Geldzahler, thenman who was certain that Warhol was ann”important artist.” On the other—andnmore significantly—there was thengeneral media. In Edie there is a photographnof the opening of a show ofnWarhol’s work that was held in 1965 atnthe Institute of Contemporary Art innPhiladelphia. It shows a mob scene. Thenmob is not composed of people with longnhair, beads, taiik tops, and ragged jeans,nbut of men with short hair and suits; thenonly woman in the photo is Edie. All ofnthose gentlemen—or a good number ofnthem—probably weren’t art enthusiasts.nThey probably were reporters for abovegroundnpublications. Also included innEdie is a snippet from the society orngossip column of the New York WorldnTelegram of September 14,1965, whichnnotes that “Clip-coiffed Edie Sedgwicknupstaged The Vampires on saeen at thenLincoln Center film festival last night asnshe swept in on the arm of AndynWarhol.” Then there’s part of a layoutnfrom Life magazine, November 26,n1965, headhned, “The Girl with thenBlack Tights,” who is defined in the textnas “Edie Sedgwick, a 22-year-old NewnYork socialite, great-granddaughter ofnthe founder of Groton and currently then’superstar’ of Andy Warhol’s undergroundnmovies.” The series of photosnshow Edie wearing T-shirt tops and tightsnand doing the Frug or some othernthen-“in” dance. The i/j^ text goes on tonsay: “Her style may not be for everybody,nbut its spirited wackiness is just right fornlively girls with legs like Edie’s.” “Justnright for lively girls”: the words are thenincantation of a bloody horror when considerednin relation to the kind of life thatn”lively” Edie was leading: a random yetnconsistent pattern of drugs, sex, andnbooze.nWarhol was legitimized in these pagesnoiLife and the others. Edie was just therenas a vehicle to put on the $155 RudinGernreich dresses and the $40 KennethnJay Lane earrings (1965 dollars) and tonvamp in public or in front of the camera,non command. In the 60’s, automobilesnwere considered disposable products:ndrive one for two years, then trade it innfor another. Warhol was a product of thenmarketing mind: he put his miles onnEdie Sedgwick, then dumped her fornanother “superstar.” Unlike the automobiles,nhowever, Edie was worn outnand even more defective when he wasnthrough with her, not it, though the impersonalnpronoun fits Warhol’s context.nAs noted, Henry Geldzahler was veryninfluential on Warhol’s stock in the artnworld. In the biographical notes in Edie,nthe following entry appears fornGeldzahler:n’I was a friend and counselor ofnEdie’s. During the Sixties I was thencurator of Twentieth Century Art atnthe Metropolitan Museum of Art. Inremained a curator and, in 1978,nbecame Commissioner of CulturalnAffairs for the City of New York.’nIn Edie Geldzahler says that from thentime he started working at the Metropolitan,nI960, he saw Warhol “just aboutnevery day” for six years. In 1966 Warholnwas essentially through with Edie.nWarhol’s Factory was a common meetingplace,nand it was probably there, or atnone of the many fashionable parties ofnthe day, that he met Edie. Geldzahler,nbased on his capsule refsume’, would seemnto be a responsible man. How he can sayn”I was a friend and a counselor of Edie’s”nnnis beyond civilized belief: what kind ofnfriend or counselor permits his pal ornconfidant to skip down the road to hell?nEdie Sedgwick—silver-dyed hair andndesigner fashions notwithstanding—wasnnot a piece of att in a living museum; shenwas a human being, albeit a flawed one.nYet it seems that very few—if any—innthe New York art scene treated her asnanything but a piece of sculpture or asnone of those inflatable plastic womennthat are for sale in porn shops. The pastntense of the verb in Geldzahler’s selfdesaiptionndoesn’t indicate that it’s terminalnpast tense. His position and influencenon “Cultural Affairs” in the citynthat sets them for other cities, his claim tonwarmth and advice for Edie, are enoughnto induce nausea.nIn her biographical note, Diana Vreeland—undoubtedlynin a tone indicatingnpride—says, “I was a friend of the familynand, as editor of Vogue, where Edienposed for us—^which she did beautifullyn—I was her employer.” Friendship mustnbe cheap in those circles. In the Augustn1965 Vogue there’s a reference to Edie asna “Youthquaker”; “twenty-two, whitehairednwith anthracite-black eyes andnlegs to swoon over, who stars in AndynWarhol’s underground movies.” Therenis also a photo of Edie in black tights.nVreeland gave Edie much more space innthe March 15,1966 Vogue; Edie was thensubject of a spread. Remembering Edienfor the biography, Vreeland says thisnabout Edie at the time of the shootingnsession:n’She was so happy with the world.nShe was charming. She suggestednspringtime and freshness. She wasnvery clean and clear. . . . Freshnessnand proportion and a sense of thensort of rollick of life, you know, thenfun of life. .. . Edie had a wonderfulnlook about her. Lovely skin, but thennI’ve never seen anyone on drugs thatndidn’t have wonderful skin.’nAt this time, reports of others in the booknindicate that Edie was taking drugs atnsuch a rate that, compared to her, then•i^^^llnFebruary 1983n