"A few times every century, a great beauty is born. I am not one of them. But what nature skipped, I supplied—so much so that sometimes 1 cannot remember what is real and what is fake." Princess Luciana Pignatelli
I stumbled across this desperately fabulous beauty tome -and was inspired by its retro yumminess -so I googled Princess Luciana Pignatelli -and I found the following from TIME.COM -it makes for very interesting reading. Enjoy..............
Title: Modern Living: Mirror, Mirror [Dated: Monday, Mar. 15, 1971]
The Beautiful People's Beauty Book
It is not that the princess has a weak memory: even an IBM super multiprocessor system would be hard put to keep track of the surgical, spiritual, chemical and cosmetic chicanery credited with transforming her from what she calls "a lump" of a young girl into the "internationally renowned beauty" of today. Her nose has been bobbed, her eyelids lifted, her breasts treated with cell implants. Hypnosis, silicone injections, and mysterious processes she calls "diacutaneous fibrolysis" and "aromatotherapy"—all have somehow been fitted into a schedule already jampacked with appointments for facials and pedicures, yoga lessons and gym classes. In The Beautiful People's Beauty Book (McCall; $5.95), Luciana Pignatelli reveals the secrets and sham, pressures and rewards of a lifetime dedicated to pleasing that most demanding, unrelenting, infinitely precious of friends—the mirror.
Disastrous Union. Most of the princess's 36 years have been spent in the pursuit of beauty. But then, as she explains, "glamour can begin only when all the groundwork has been laid." For Luciana, the groundwork came early in adolescence, when "all legs and big feet, thick at the waist and thick in the nose," she was taken in hand by her half brother, Rodolfo Crespi (married to Consuelo Crespi of the best-dressed set). Rudi pushed lipstick, Consuelo set aside some best dresses, and at 18, Luciana was shuttled from Rome to London to have her nose fixed (the working model was a cross between Vivien Leigh's and Consuelo's). Six months later, she changed her name as well by marrying Prince Nicoló Pignatelli Aragona Cortes; the union was "a disaster" from which she emerged, 15 years later, with two children, one title and "a shattered ego."
To help rebuild it, she had silicone injections to fill out her cheeks and plastic surgery that lifted her upper eyelids but did nothing for her spirit. Hypnosis, yoga, cell implants and love affairs helped her morale, but by the end of one liaison Luciana realized, "I had really become very plain looking—almost nothing on my face, nothing on my nails, the most casual clothes." After another year during which she was "so bored I used to remove the hairs from my legs, one by one, with tweezers," Luciana went back to Rome to face facts and her mirror: beauty, after all, was her business. She became a fashion coordinator and beauty consultant to Eve of Roma, a cosmetic house, and that led directly to another husband: Eve's president, Burt Avedon.
Filipino Massage. The book—described by her husband last week as "a straightforward approach to narcissism" —is saturated with beauty tips and tidbits, both from the author and her friends. Model Mirella Haggiag, for example, recommends going back to sleep after the breakfast tray arrives: Princess Ira von Furstenburg prefers dinners alone (a man is sure to order "pasta or curry with rice, and how can one resist?"). Mrs. J. Paul Getty Jr. imports vegetarian pté from Holland to London, uses no eyeliner but the pure kohl she collects in Marrakesh. Emilio Pucci is high on massage ("I have two Filipino girls who come to the house: I would find it distasteful to be massaged by a man"). Luciana also quotes her mother's beauty plan: "I don't smoke, I don't drink, and I go to bed early. I exercise, and I walk 21 miles every day." Adds her daughter proudly. "After she turned 60, she also had her face lifted."
Luciana herself has her hair streaked white-blonde once a month, reserves a fast day (mashed potatoes and camomile tea) every two weeks, and takes liver injections every two months to smoothe her skin. Her personal recommendations include washing hair with jhassoul ("Ask friends going to Morocco to get a few bars"), smoking Filipino cigars instead of skin-sallowing cigarettes, constant visits to the hairdresser and gymnast, separate bedrooms ("much more conducive to sex") and homosexuals as friends ("a brief, loud hurrah for their incredible eye for line, proportion, detail and style").
Whirlwind Tour. Author Gore Vidal, also quoted in the book, supports the princess all the way. "Beauty is exterior: it is not interior," he says. "Not only does it not matter if there's nothing inside, it probably helps. Character has a tendency to ruin looks." Meanwhile, Luciana, in the midst of a whirlwind U.S. tour promoting her book, is eager to get back to Europe. "I understand," she writes wistfully, "there is a doctor in Paris who does eyelash implants . . ." The End... The Text is from TIME.COM [Credit: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,904854,00.html]
My goodness -can you believe this was all happening in the early 70's? Eyelash implants ??? You've got to love Princess Luciana Pignatelli. In her ambitious position maybe I would have been the same! When the GAZE is on you -it must be exciting -but scary [no wonder all those celebs are going crazy].....xx
P.s There are only 5 used copies left at Amazon [and they are from Private sellers -etc] from $74.99 -visit Amazon for more information at: http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Peoples-Beauty-Book/dp/B000K0TT1Q
