January 14, 2007: Rupert Everett and Recollections of BIRG

"Getting locked inside a celebrity stronghold, an ivory tower, is the death of creativity, and the unhappy lot of the rich and famous. They lose themselves in the quest for security," writes Rupert Everett in his new memoir, "Red Carpets and Other Banana Skins."

His BIRG (basking in reflected glory) approach to fame and brushing up against celebrity at various points in his life is colorful: "At 17, I had sat with David Bowie downstairs at the Embassy Club and been lectured on the mystical potential hidden in the number seven. At 18, I had dined at La Coupole in Paris with Andy Warhol and Bianca Jagger. I had sniffed poppers with Hardy Amies on the dance floor of Munkberrys. I had done blow with Steve Rubell and Halston at Studio 54. I was spoilt for excitement and I knew what it was to be drunk on fame by association, how it felt to be a part of 'the gang,' the cluster of small gems around the large canary diamond, the obligatory whirlwind dancing dangerously about the eye of the storm. It was intoxicating to be around stars ... you were a part of the queen bee's hive. ... Nights under the stars were feeding frenzies of self-interest."

I've had those same BIRG feelings he describes at a few heady parties. Somewhere out there in photoland, there are some snaps of me, Liza Minnelli and Elizabeth Taylor when I was 16, at a party talking about how obnoxious the paparazzi were as we posed. It's cute at 16. It'd be bizarre now.

Rupert Everett is the best. The thing that's great about Brit actors is that they don't try to be such noble people all the time. He's flawed and revels in it, and loves to bash celebrity while at the same time partaking. I think he's right about how getting wrapped up in fame can mute or kill creativity.