Luce's method of seducing and dazzling men was
quite different from Harriman's. They were both
ferociously ambitious, and masters at dishing up
sparkling conversation, but comparisons end
there. "They targeted very different types of
men," says Morris. "Pamela was a nurturer. She
always wanted to marry her lovers, while Clare
got what she wanted and left."
And Luce was not the great hostess that
Harriman was, says Marie Brenner, author of
"Great Dames: What I Learned From Older Women."
"She was more like a Sherman tank. She'd do
things like serve lettuce to the men at lunch
because that's all she wanted to eat, or refuse
to serve wine to the women but pour herself a
glass."
Martha Stewart would disapprove, but then
again, she's no courtesan. Or is she? Are there
any modern-day contenders to the legacy of
Harriman and Luce? While some would argue that
women no longer need to act like courtesans,
there are still women who think that the fastest
-- and juiciest -- rise to power is through a
man.
Washington is still mourning Harriman's
death. Her closest replacement is Sally Quinn,
the former Washington Post writer turned
socialite. But she's a pale version of the
classic courtesan. As one political insider
sniffs, "The grande dames only go to her house
because of Ben Bradlee." The Beltway has also
turned a cold shoulder to Quinn since she wrote
a self-righteous article blasting President
Clinton for his affair with Monica Lewinsky.
(It's no secret that when Quinn was a junior
staffer at the Washington Post, she began an
affair with Bradlee, 25 years her senior, who
eventually left his wife for her.) The press
erupted, and trashed her. In 1998, during a live
C-Span interview, a caller confronted Quinn,
saying, "Take a look at your own life. A lot of
people said you slept your way to the top."
Quinn turned purple. One Washington insider says
gleefully, "My friends say that moment was worth
the entire year's price of cable."
Other names that are tossed around include
Sen. Dianne Feinstein, fundraiser Georgette
Mossbacher, Cristyne Lategano, Katrina vanden
Heuvel and political pundit (and Salon
columnist) Arianna Huffington. Huffington is the
most probable contender. She's smart, sassy and
attractive and has a sexy Greek accent, which
are all excellent criteria for courtesanship.
"She's certainly brilliant and among the ranks
of such women as Madame de Pompadour," says
Kevin Chaffee, Washington Times social editor.
"She's more intelligent than most of the men
she's been associated with, with the possible
exception of Bernard Levin."
Joe Eszterhas dubbed Huffington "the
sorceress" in
"American Rhapsody" and Al Frankel jokingly
calls her "the evil but beautiful Arianna
Huffington."
Others would argue that she lacks the most
important asset -- multiple husbands. "She's
just a one-off," says Ogden, referring to her
former husband, Michael Huffington. "She didn't
have the number of men Pamela did, or the number
of positions."
One woman who does have it all is Democratic
fundraiser and serial wife Patricia Duff. She
has been called "an enchantress," "exquisite in
a Grace Kelly way," "luminous," a "man magnet"
and a "femme fatale" by journalists. Washington
Post columnist Richard Cohen said of their first
meeting: "She was one of the most beautiful
things I had ever seen, maybe after the Grand
Canyon." A former husband said, "She can be the
single most charming being in the history of the
world."
Like Harriman and Luce, Duff gained her
political power through her associations with
wealthy and powerful men and, like Harriman, she
never had the misfortune of falling in love with
a poor man. She studied international relations
at Georgetown, and later took a job at the House
Select Committee on Assassinations.
From there, she worked on two endeavors:
collecting powerful husbands and gaining
political power. Her first marriage was to a
high school sweetheart. The second was to
Washington lawyer Dan Duff. After that marriage
dissolved, Duff went to Los Angeles to become an
actress, where she met studio head Mike Medavoy
and lured him away from his wife. She later
dumped him to chase after billionaire Ron
Perelman, the Revlon executive and New York's
richest man, and the two married in 1995.
The Perelmans had a very ugly spat at the
1996 Democratic Convention and Perelman filed
for divorced shortly afterward. (The marriage
lasted only 18 months.) But the union left Duff
with $30 million and an impressive political
track record. While with Perelman, Duff became
the executive director of the Women's Leadership
Forum and co-chaired fundraising for the 1996
Clinton-Gore campaign. Right now, Duff's
political actions have taken a back seat as she
battles Perelman for custody of their 4-year-old
daughter, but she still seems to be on the prowl
for power. She has most recently been linked to
Sen. Robert Torricelli, D-N.J., so she hasn't
forgotten her old ways.
While some, like Brenner, consider these sexy
and powerful women to be proto-feminists,
others, like conservative babe/pundit Ann
Coulter, are appalled by their behavior. "Women
like Pamela Harriman and Patricia Duff are
basically Anna Nicole Smith from the waist
down," she spits out. "Let's just call it for
what it is. They're whores. Lots of women in
that era got ahead without having to sleep with
men ... Speaking as someone who's been accused
of sleeping with their male bosses -- and I
never have -- I resent courtesans like Cristyne
Lategano."
Coulter says, "Clare Booth Luce is a true
feminist. She's brilliant, satirical, snobby and
fabulous. She wrote 'The Women,' which is still
being produced today. What did Pamela Harriman
ever write?"
And as for the accusation that Clare zeroed
in on Henry Luce, Coulter says that's crap. "The
reason that Clare ended up marrying a powerful
man is because she was a hot commodity herself.
Who was she going to end up with, the paper
boy?" The same goes for Huffington, she says.
"Even though Arianna has gone to the dark side
politically, she was accomplished before she
ever met Michael Huffington. She could have
married anybody."
Politics aside, Brenner has a hilariously
practical take on modern-day courtesans. "These
women didn't waste their sexuality. Instead of
sleeping with some jerk and complaining about
bad sex, they fucked someone powerful."
And Brenner thinks the courtesan style is
coming back. "My generation rejected charm,"
says the author (who is 50). "We were out there
in sweat pants fighting for equal pay and equal
rights. The current generation is fighting for
the same things, but they're doing it in Manolo
Blahniks."
