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" Gloria Vanderbilt (left), 86 years old and as frisky as ever, has lead a life that has weaved through all my favorite societal factions: There was the national scandal of her youth (that nasty legal battle between her mother and her Aunt Gertrude Whitney Vanderbilt over custody after Gloria&amp;#039;s father passed away when she was 15 months old), her dalliances with the leading men of Old Hollywood (from Marlon Brando to Howard Hughes), and an undisputed status as a fashion icon (her swan logo was the match to the fires of celebrity-helmed fashion lines we see today). Through the years she worked with Richard Avedon, Francesco Scavullo, and Horst P Horst, she married four men and had four sons, and wrote seven books, including a work of erotic fiction, which she penned last year at the age of 85. Along the way there have been press clippings, homeware collections, works of arts, and a series of residences that could be vast and grand, or small and quaint. Her life is a fascinating tale, and a befitting subject of Wendy Goodman&amp;#039;s (right) new book The World of Gloria Vanderbilt. Gloria&amp;#039;s fellow American icon Ralph Lauren has steered Vanderbilt on a mini tour to christen this new tome, which started last week in New York City. I missed that fete \u2014 we at Harper&amp;#039;s Bazaar were launching our own book \u2014 so I promised I would come out to Greenwich last night for a suburban signing. Behind a large wooden table on the second floor of Lauren&amp;#039;s idyllic store sat Vanderbilt, poised in a black Ralph Lauren trousers and a black satin blouse, dutifully signing books. Gloria lived in Greenwich for a few years \u2014 in a fabulous house that incorporated her love of quilts on walls, on couches and in the kitchen \u2014 and this was a fitting homecoming. The store actually sold out of the books (before I could even commandeer one for myself), selling more copies than they did at the party in New York&amp;#039;s flagship store. Vanderbilt admired the organization of these Greenwich ladies, who were picking up the books as Christmas presents. And she was also slightly nostalgic for the town she had once inhabited. When she finished signing what often seemed a never ending stack of books, she asked, &amp;quot;Maybe I shouldn&amp;#039;t have ever left?&amp;quot; "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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