Liz Smith

By J.D. Reed

According to Oscar Wilde, who had plenty of reason to think so, all history is gossip. By that definition, Liz Smith is one of America's premier historians. From Palm Beach, Fla., to Santa Barbara, Calif., via her syndicated column and New York City television show, she catalogs the follies and the triumphs of the famous, able in the wink of a cliche to make careers and unwrap reputations. Some folks can't wait to lap up her latest morsels; others think she ought to have her typewriter confiscated. "She has the power to get people to pay attention," says 60 Minutes' Mike Wallace, who is both friend and frequent subject. "If Liz talks good or ill, people's interest is piqued."

"Riveted" might be a better term. Smith, 67, unleashed a media tornado, still howling across the headlines, when she broke the Trump divorce story two weeks ago. Her revelation was trumpeted in the column she has written for the New York Daily News for 14 years, which appears in more than 60 other U.S. papers. She quickly took sides, advising Ivana to "stop sobbing over Donald Juan." Such partisanship might be harshly judged in a report about German unification. But Smith -- and the rest of the scoop troop -- is to objective reporting what Hulk Hogan is to Olympic wrestling. Almost anything goes.

Part tough New Yorker, part sunny Texan, Mary Elizabeth Smith is the daughter of a Fort Worth cotton broker. She is up-front about the face-lifting ("Only one, really") and the hair ("Ever notice how women on TV get blonder as they get older?"). A University of Texas graduate who married and divorced twice, she admits to being a "glitter kid" from way back. "Walter Winchell was my idol," she says. "I wanted to go to the Stork Club." Arriving in New York City in 1949, she learned her trade at Modern Screen, Newsweek and SPORTS ILLUSTRATED and by working in radio and TV. When she was offered a column in the Daily News in 1976, Smith says, "I didn't want to do it. I thought a gossip column was passe." But she couldn't resist the money -- or the forum.

The column, which consists of sweet-'n'-sour snacks served up drive-through quick, hit a public nerve that still tingles. The Trump divorce, she says, is typical of why people love gossip. "It is a faux scandal. You don't have to grapple with it morally. It's the kind of story that takes the public's mind off its own problems."

Digging for the dirt is a round-the-clock job. "I'm desperately overstimulated, overentertained and overpaid," says Smith. With two assistants in her Manhattan apartment, Smith spends the day on the phone, sifting through stacks of mail, and keeping the party dates straight. Soon the columnist may become Liz Smith the series. Already a regular on TV station / WNBC in New York, she has made pilots for a celebrity-interview show that may air on the Fox network next fall.

Cozying up with sources is par for the gossip course, and Smith has her own techniques. "My effort is to turn everybody I know into a legman for me," she says. Reporters at newspapers, magazines and the three networks, she claims, often leak snippets to her. Agents of all kinds drop nuggets, as do friends, parties and openings. Public relations people are "mostly so inept that you should just forget it totally." Though, in truth, Liz has been known to run their press releases verbatim, as well as to promote shamelessly her favorite restaurants, charities and plays.

Such habits draw fire. The humor magazine Spy tabulates the number of times Liz's favorites are named in her column: the Today show's Deborah Norville shares top honors with Barbara Walters, both having garnered a mention every six days on average. (Frank Sinatra and Sylvester Stallone crop up every eight days; Madonna gets a boost every twelve.) Boston Herald gossip columnist Norma Nathan thinks Smith is a celebrity groupie who protects her pals: "She's so In, she's Out. She's become part of the story."

Smith shrugs off such swipes. "I know reporters are all supposed to spring out of bushes and catch everybody in flagrante," she drawls. "I'm just not interested in taking people apart and leaving them in little pieces." Furthermore, she notes, "I am not a street reporter. I don't think there is so much fun in getting out there and writing about Joe and Mary in Queens. I love them. They're my readers, but I am an entertainment reporter." Says feminist and editor Gloria Steinem, a longtime Smith pal: "Liz understands the ethical difference between being a friend and a reporter. I find her more ethical than many other journalists."

While she tracks the Trumps, Liz continues to trail other celebs. A recent column crowed that "terrific, sexy" actor Alec Baldwin (The Hunt for Red October) was "busy, busy" and that Ava Gardner's grave had been stripped of flowers by fans. Observed the columnist without a smidgen of irony: "The price celebrities pay for their success is a lack of privacy." Bite your tongue!

With reporting by Naushad S. Mehta/New York