Britt Ekland leaves little to the imagination, on and off the floor of Paris' new hot spot, Club 78, where she swirls the nights away with Patrice Calmettes, the boîte's flack. Her first disco record, Do It to Me (Once More with Feeling), is a "picture disc," with an undraped Britt depicted on each side. Then there's her upcoming memoir, which ex-hubby Peter Sellers is fighting to enjoin in the courts. "I don't know why," puzzles Britt. "I only tell the truth." Could it be that that's not the lingua franca among Ekland's old men?
Voight boosts Fonda
Jane Fonda may be a one-woman alternate energy source herself. Fresh from a hard day's work playing a secretary in Nine to Five, she wheeled off to Flipper's in L.A. to hostess a "solar-roller disco" party to benefit husband Tom Hayden's Campaign for Economic Democracy and educate the public about energy. But about skating, it was Jane who needed the education. Luckily, old co-star Jon Voight was there to give her an experienced hand. The public, democratically admitted, got to ogle Jane and Jon's rink jinks—for $25 a throw.
Snowdon v. Vreeland
Lord Snowdon does some of his sharpest portraits without benefit of camera. A killing mimic who can sum up a subject in a few gestures, Snowdon deigned to "do" Diana Vreeland, his former Vogue boss, at the Andy Warhol opening in Manhattan's Whitney Museum. "No one can imitate me," insisted Vreeland, stabbing Snowdon almost lethally with a manicure-honed nail, to the glee of his agent, Peter Schub. Undaunted, Snowdon did his Diana, cracking her up. "I love Tony," says Vreeland, who withdrew the digit. Like his impression, it didn't draw blood.
Hall & Oates turn on
The rumors of the breaking up of "blue-eyed soul" brothers John Oates and Daryl Hall are greatly exaggerated. They're touring happily together again—particularly after Minneapolis, where John latched onto a new steady companion in model Nancy Hunter. Between shows at L.A.'s Roxy, the duo slipped out to a record store to sign autographs and jive together around an RCA Victor prop plugging their new album, X-Static. One of the cuts is Portable Radio, a tribute to, of all folks, those transistor-toting citizens who make the streets come alive with the sound of music. Remember the good old days when other male duos like Simon and Garfunkel hymned Sounds of Silence?
That's Christina, but Where's Sergei?
If it is true that Christina Onassis is divorcing Russian husband Sergei Kauzov—some friends say it's a fait accompli—she does not seem publicly fazed by her third marital failure in eight years. Christina has been in Manhattan nearly a month, registered in a midtown hotel under a false name, dropping drachmas by the bundle on shopping and pasta at Elaine's. She's also returned to her favorite bachelorette stomping ground, Studio 54, to get down with partners like Nicos Boakis, nephew of an executive in her shipping empire. But one Paris pal, noting the unpredictability of life in the Jettison Set, says that Christina could be boogeying with Nicos at dawn and blini-ing with Sergei by sunset.
Chevy on tap
Chevy Chase playing Gene Kelly in a Singin' in the Rain remake? No, except for a few shuffle steps, Chevy's, fanciest footwork remains his old Gerald Ford stumble on Saturday Night Live. The perpetual comedian, here hailing a cab in a scene for Oh Heavenly Dog, his new co-starrer with Benji, just stumbled off the curb into Kelly's classic stance. Chevy's real rhythmic forte is not footwork but fingerwork. A pianist good enough to sit in with L.A. session musicians, he is currently cutting a new project: a music-cum-comedy album a la maestro Victor Borge.
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