Is Judy Bachrach’s Vanity Fair profile of Judi Giuliani a brutal hatchet job painting Mrs. America’s Mayor as an “opportunistic, puppy-killing homewrecker,” as “Page Six” would have us believe? After slogging through the story’s 6,440 words (Graydon, forests are finite! What will the National Resources Defense Council say?), we’re prepared to say: Uh, yeah, kinda.
The article starts with such a mighty dose of sniping that we actually felt little bad for Mrs. G. Her bodyguards pushed Hillary once; she flies private jets and rocks D&G and Carolina Herrera on a $125,000 sinecure salary; she employs a full-time stylist; she’s got a “small, purposeful mouth” and, when posing for photos, “thrusts out an obliging hip.” That whore! Then Bachrach talks to Judi’s ex-husband Bruce Nathan (who hates her guts) and lover Manos Zacharioudakis (who can’t shut up about how great she was in bed). That slut! Then, finally, comes the good stuff: the puppy-killing. “They spent days and days with dogs, taking out the spleen or stomach or the lobe of a lung,” says a colleague from Judi’s days as a surgical salesperson. “After the stapling, sometimes they’d put a big clamp above and below the staple lines of the dog, and fill [the area] with lots of fluid. It would fill up like a balloon, and the salesperson would say to the doctor, ‘See — it doesn’t leak!’” In the piece, this scans less as sadism than as ruthless, a-girl’s-gotta-do-what-a-girl’s-gotta-do determination. But watch what happens when you combine it with a bit of testimony from Lloyd Grove’s May profile of her in New York:
Before they were married, [Giuliani] indulged her desire to dine regularly at Le Cirque even though the heavy cuisine tended to make him queasy. “It was almost required daily, going to Le Cirque for dinner, and Rudy used to throw up afterward, because the food was so rich,” says a witness.
See? He leaks. Oh, dear God, our possible First Lady is a Hostel-grade maniac!