by Gwyn Conaway

Truman Capote has thrown a party and it might just be the talk of the century!

Truman Capote grew up in Alabama during the Great Depression and strived for a life of luxury and fame. When he finally found acclaim, it became apparent very soon after that he had the personality and audacity to fit the high society bill.

This rising star of American literature published In Cold Blood, his first widely acclaimed piece of work, with Random House Publishing earlier this year. Though the “nonfiction novel” propelled the small-town Alabamian onto international bestseller lists and the critic’s chopping block, securing both his notoriety and fortune alike, it’s this week's "Black and White Ball" that has bestowed him with the mantle of high society.

Oscar de la Renta and Françoise de Langlade wearing cat masks at the Black and White Ball, held in the Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, November 28th, 1966.

In fact, there hasn’t been quite this sort of mystery surrounding an invitation since Paul Poiret’s A Thousand and Second Night in 1911. Capote has, perhaps, received inspiration from the late French fashion designer in taking painstaking care to design his guest list and requiring a strict dress code for the spectacle of the soiree. While Poiret’s guests wore harem pants, lampshade dresses, and turbans inspired by the Ballets Russes’ Schéhérazade, Capote’s were instructed to wear masks, black, and white.

An illustration of Denise Poiret by George le Pape at One Thousand and Second Night, the infamous party at Chez Poiret. If guests arrived without something to wear, they were given something or politely turned away. The shapes and adornment of Poiret's fashions strike a chord with us today, and can be seen at Capote's ball as well.

Of course, Capote couldn’t throw such a lavish affair for himself; that would be in very poor taste, after all. All summer, he sat by literary agent and editor Eleanor Friede’s poolside, considering his guests. He carried his book with him all through the fall, crossing names off, adding new ones, taking notes. His little book became a subject of great curiosity, and so did the guest of honor. Most of us believed he’d choose one of his “swans”, the beautiful women he cavorts with these days, so imagine my surprise when he chose Katharine Graham, publisher of the Washington Post.

Katharine Graham, the guest of honor, and Capote in attendance at the Black and White Ball. Pictured to the right is her mask, designed by famous American designer Halston.

Katharine Graham has hinted that she felt more like a prop for Capote’s whims than a guest of honor, but the baffled newspaper president accepted his invitation. The evening has revitalized her social standing and thrust one of the most important women in America back into the spotlight. Graham took over the capital’s most important daily publication after the unfortunate suicide of her late husband, Phillip Graham in 1963. Since then, she’s faced a tumultuous fight for recognition in a world in which men have dominated since the dawn of the periodical. Choosing Graham was ingenious. Although her influence and power reaches far and wide, she lives deep within her work and has rarely surfaced to socialize since the death of her husband. As a result, the queen of the press became Capote’s Cinderella, and the linchpin of the party’s success.

To be fair, the rest of the guest list didn’t disappoint the gossipers either. In fact, it put the party squarely at the top of this century’s list of places to be and people to see. Though the likes of first daughter Lynda Bird Johnson, Frank Sinatra, Gloria Vanderbilt, and the Duke and Duchess of Windsor were among the socialites grooving until four in the morning, it wasn’t necessarily the star power that made this party so thrilling. The hotel doorman, Andy Warhol, and a few residents of little Holcomb, Kansas, where he did research for In Cold Blood, were also invited. It’s true that high society parties like this are usually a strict in-crowd affair, but at the Black and White Ball, the more than five hundred guests were rubbing shoulders with people they never would have met otherwise. This cross-pollination of economics, politics, and culture is perhaps the last we’ll see for quite some time.

Notably, Capote’s critics were not invited to the ball. Kenneth Tynan of The Observer, for example. He vehemently criticized In Cold Blood and accused Capote of hoping both killers, Richard Hicock and Perry Smith, would be executed for the real massacre behind the novel so the ending would be more cathartic. Capote's infamous notebook is displayed on the right.

The party itself was a carefully designed spectacle. Although gloves have gone out of fashion in recent years, thanks to the dissipation of social modesty caused by the Beatnik and Mod movements, department stores and glovers ran a shortage this month in preparation for the big day. Milliners also faced a heavy burden, filling orders for fantastical masks and surreal headwear. And while the preparations for the ball were hectic all across New York City, the parade of costumes was just as eclectic and exhilarating. Capote proclaimed he was inspired by the Ascot scene in My Fair Lady and his guests took this to heart.

My Fair Lady came out in 1964. It was directed by George Cukor and starred Audrey Hepburn and Rex Harrison. The Ascot scene has proven to be a major influence in the fashion world, and will likely continue to be referenced for decades to come. Bravo to costume designer Cecil Beaton for his lasting legacy!

Top: Princess Lee Radziwell, sister to former First Lady Jackie Kennedy, shows off her couture treasures to the adoring press; Middle: Andy Warhol, cult pop artist; Bottom: Guests who built their own masks out of papier-mâché and paint. The range of who's who at this party was enormous! Wildly different politics and economics. Who could have guessed we'd see these faces at the same party?

Maybe Truman Capote really did throw the Black and White Ball as a frivolous exercise in his newfound fame and wealth, but I see a gathering on the cusp of great division with far more significance. Although the theme was meant to inspire a sort of graphic elegance in the song-and-dance of high society entertainment, Capote’s guests betray a social experiment at the heart of his event. What with the rise of the Civil Rights Movement, Vietnam War protests, the Women's Movement, and so much more, could Capote be signaling to the Old Guard that the world is changing? Considering he chose to honor Katharine Graham, after months of reflection, and dressed the entire event in the colors of ink and paper, I simply can’t imagine this was all a convenient happenstance.

In truth, we often belittle the significance of spectacles like these until they are a distant memory, blinded by the wealth in attendance and whether or not the champagne was chilled or the dancing rowdy. Perhaps we suffer from jealousy in wishing we had been there ourselves, that we had walked the red carpet parade and smiled for the tabloids. Though I suffer from the same afflictions, of course, I still must ask myself: when is a party no longer just a party?

The Black and White Ball is on the wobbly edge, in my opinion. Was Capote simply bold in throwing aside the social conventions of like rubbing shoulders with like? Or did he adorn a politically charged event in the trappings of an extravaganza? Regardless of the answer, or maybe because there doesn’t seem to be one, he managed to pull off the party of the century.

[And while it might not quite rival Capote's party, the permanent floating event in Portal 55, Galactic Journey's real-time lounge, is always jumping!  Talk about your favorite SFF, chat with the Traveler and co., relax, sit a spell…]