Area Billioniare Can't Be Expected To Keep Track Of All Her Picassos

Paupers know where their priceless works of art are at all times. Billionaires remark "Hmm, I can't remember the last time I saw that thing."

Author:: Bess Levin
Updated:: Jan 14, 2019
Original:: Apr 20, 2016

Though someone should actually be hired to do that for her.

Billionaire socialite Wilma “Billie” Tisch is suing a Florida gallery owner for trying to sell a $1 million Picasso that was stolen from her Manhattan home — sometime after December 2009, according to court papers. Tisch, 88, only recently discovered the 1928 portrait of the famed painter’s mistress Marie-Therese Walter was missing. The Miami gallery owner, Kenneth Hendel, is flabbergasted by the socialite’s belated realization. “When is too rich too rich to not notice you’re missing a Picasso for 10 years?” Hendel said. Forbes has pegged Tisch’s net worth at $1.41 billion. She last saw the 14-inch-by-7½-inch canvas in 2009 when she had it appraised by Christie’s while it was on display at her Fifth Avenue apartment, her suit says.

When you’re so rich you don’t notice your Picasso is missing [NYP]

The Lazard intern turned erotic arts performer is thinking about sending her résumé to Steve Cohen.

What would posses a person to do an as-told-to article about the fact that after "failing miserably" at trying to pick up women in bars while working late for a "big name investment bank in New York," he turned to a "sugar daddy dating site" to bang hookers on his nights away from the wife and kids only to fall for one who ultimately broke his heart, because she was a prostitute and didn't actually care about him? The answer, quite, obviously, is love. Love, and a hope that a certain someone will see your story and upon reading that you're completely and totally over her and beating off call girls with a stick, COME RUNNING BACK. I met a girl who said she was a senior at Columbia University. She was so hot. Long brown hair, light eyes, perfect little body. We started an affair and I would give her a $4,000 "allowance" each month to meet once a week for dinner, or just to sleep together if I had a deal or a really late night in the office. Sometimes it was an hour of "small talk and sex," which, really, isn't a bad deal for her. $1,000 for an hour to spend time with me. I felt like a stud, there's no denying that, and I knew that she didn't want anything from me but money. She would come and go away when I made the signal I was tired. Soon though, I started liking her more than I wanted to. She was smart and kind of had a sarcastic sense of humor I found funny. I asked to see her more and she asked for more money. I said I couldn't do any more than that, and she said she couldn't give more time. It was the first time I felt a little hurt, like: "This person just wants my money and probably thinks I'm some gross horny old dude." The next month, I gave her the envelope of $4,000 upfront instead of $1,000 each time. We had sex, chatted, drank some wine and she left. I never saw her again. She wouldn't pick up her phone, then her phone was disconnected, my emails to her went unanswered, and her profile on the site was gone. It was such a blow. Though, really, what the hell did I expect? I guess some warning. Yes, some warning would have been nice but whatever. It's not like you're still upset about it. It's not like there isn't a moment of the day when she's not on your mind. It's not like you lie in bed at night thinking about her holding you. No, no sweat off your sack, which you use to bang hookers six at a time now that whatshername is out of the picture. Working girls line the street to get paid to have sex with you! You don't even have time to respond to all their propositions! The Jiltee has become the jilter! You can't even remember [theloveofyourlife]'s name you're so busy plowing prosties. After that, I decided I was going to go for quantity and not quality. I want hot girls, but a lot of them and substance isn't a huge deal. I have been with dozens of girls, and I give them money each time I meet them. The funny thing is often these girls are chasing me to sleep with them again, because it's easy money, but I just scroll through and delete or ignore the messages most of the time. Men want to be with a lot of women; it is just the truth...Maybe that first girl was a wake-up call. I'm already married. I don't need a steady mistress. But I have one or two I always go back to if I can't find someone I like, which happens a lot....I'm not hurting anyone by doing this. I'm always safe and upfront if I meet someone and know it won't happen. I just pay for the drink and let them know and leave, like "No deal, sorry." It is just like any deal. You have to know how to close it and have to know when you're not interested in putting in the effort to see it through. Why This Married Wall Street Banker Pays For Sex [Buzzfeed]

If you've got any ideas, don't be shy. Yahoo! CEO Marissa Mayer has an urgent task for her staff — helping her name the newest Yahooligan. Mayer and her husband, Zachary Bogue, announced the arrival of their as-yet-unnamed baby boy in an internal e-mail yesterday and even solicited name suggestions. “He is now officially BBBB — Big Baby Boy Bogue!” Mayer wrote. “We are all very happy and excited. Name TBD — suggestions welcome!” [NYP]

Are there many advantages to being born the son or daughter of a billionaire many times over? Sure. Financial security. Unparalleled opportunities. World is your oyster type stuff. But there's also a dark side that few people ever see or talk about, which can make being astonishingly wealthy by virtue of birth all the more isolating and hard. Today, however, in an effort to show kids born into immense privilege that YOU ARE NOT ALONE, the Times has run a profile of Alexander Soros, son of George, which examines the struggles he faced in coming to terms with being rich. They included: Never getting to live in a McMansion. Alex Soros spent his youth padding around a Charles A. Platt-designed 14-room house on a sprawling country estate in Katonah, N.Y. His mother, Susan Weber Soros, now divorced from his father, founded the Bard Graduate Center for the decorative arts and adorned the house with Sargents and Cassatts. Their place in the city was a duplex at 1060 Fifth Avenue. While his parents worked, he spent much of his time with his younger brother, Gregory, now 23 and pursuing a career as an artist; his nanny, Ping, from China; and the staff...Mr. Soros was acutely aware that he lived in a privileged bubble, and sometimes dreamed of living in a subdivision, where he could play football in the street with other boys. “As a kid, all you want to be is normal,” he said. “When all you’re being fed is vichyssoise, you want to eat Big Macs like everyone else.” Gaining weight. After King Low Heywood Thomas, a prep school in Stamford, Conn., he attended New York University, where he tried to come to grips with expectations that came with his last name. For a period, he brooded, and gained weight. Not being seen as an intellectual. “Alex sought anonymity,” said Adam Braun, a former roommate. “He wanted to be known as the intellectual, not the son of the financier.” Alex hated small talk, Mr. Braun added, and he would ditch parties early to go home and curl up with his Baudrillard. Being seen as a "party-boy" who posted pictures on Facebook with captions like “chilling at dad’s house in Southampton, drinking 40s while cruising on the family boat, and making out with the babes," after posting pictures on Facebook with captions like “chilling at dad’s house in Southampton, drinking 40s while cruising on the family boat, and making out with the babes.” ...after graduation, he came out of his shell and started to socialize. He made new friends, some of whom were nightclub habitués looking to trade on his name, he said. It was around that time that Facebook pictures [“chilling at dad’s house in Southampton, drinking 40s while cruising on the family boat, and making out with the babes"] of him popped up. He was shocked to be portrayed as another helium-weight Hamptons party boy swilling away his trust fund. “I became this caricature,” he said. Ultimately, after "wrestling with his moneyed upbringing," Soros came to grips with who he is and what he's worth, monetarily-speaking. He was born rich and he's OK with that. Mr. Soros, now 26, is taking the stage on his own terms, though in a direction his father clearly approves: philanthropy. Last fall, while pursing his Ph.D. in history at Berkeley, the younger Mr. Soros started the Alexander Soros Foundation. Its stated mission is to promote social justice and human rights...These days, he divides the bulk of his time between Berkeley and New York. Alex admits that his lifestyle is wildly at odds with that of most graduate students. He has a house in North Berkeley, a two-bedroom apartment near Astor Place in Manhattan and a place in South Kensington, London. He collects art by Otto Dix and George Grosz, and has “a couple of Magrittes,” he said. He has also given up on the idea that he can escape public scrutiny. His trip to Florianópolis, a Brazilian island getaway, with buddies a couple of years ago somehow landed on Page Six, which had him partying alongside the actor Stephen Dorff (“I’ve never even met Stephen Dorff,” he said). “I live well,” he told the Times. “I try to stay reasonable, but it’s very hard to say what is reasonable. There’s not a how-to book. In a way, if you try to live quote-unquote normal, you’re being disingenuous.” Making Good On The Family Name [NYT]

Throughout the week, we've been exploring the workout regimens of various billionaires. George Soros gets his elliptical on at Sitaras Fitness, alongside fellow members like Jack Welch and former Amex chairman James D. Robinson III, who can leg-press 900 pounds). Paul Tudor Jones's wife forces him to practice Ashtanga yoga, though he's allowed to take the summer off. While the practitioners of these routines may have found them to be enjoyable and effective, they contain the rigor of lifting one's hand to stuff another chip in one's mouth when compared to the new workout regimen pioneered by Jesse Itzler, which, we're calling it now, is poised to take the upper echelons of Wall Street by storm. Fueling [billionaire Sara Blakely's] more impetuous side is her entrepreneurial twin: husband Jesse Itzler, 43, a former rapper from Long Island, who has backed and cofounded a few startups, including Marquis Jet, which sells fractional air-travel time. When I meet him at his midtown Manhattan office, he bounds up the stairs in a sweaty headband, his blond curls dripping. He’s come from an intense cardio workout with a Navy SEAL he hired to move in with him and Sara for a month. (This is more efficient than hiring rickshaws from his office, as he used to do, and paying the driver to be a passenger while he hauled the vehicle all the way home.) For what probably amounts to no more than $30/day, you get a 1-2 punch workout, as driving a rickshaw through town would not only tone the lower body but would be tremendously embarrassing for most recognizable millionaires and billionaires. Depending on what route you want to take, in the span of 60 minutes you'll toughen the body and humble the mind. And if you're worried about plateauing, don't be: once you master the rickshaw routine, simply stop by Central Park South and pay a horse drawn carriage driver and his pony to be the passengers while you slap a saddle on your back and pull the cart home. You ass can thank us later. Undercover Billionaire: Sara Blakely Joins The Rich List Thanks To Spanx [Forbes]