the Baroness balances a birthday cake

Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven (1875-1927) was known as the Queen of the Dada Movement.

Elsa found here

Her father, a mason, sexually and physically abused her in her childhood. She practiced prostitution, and had numerous affairs with both men and women throughout her lifetime, including the writer Djuna Barnes.

Djuna found here

Elsa married August Endell in April 1901 but by 1903 she had left him for his friend Felix Greve. In July 1909, Greve disappeared from Germany after staging his own suicide. Elsa played a part in the faked suicide, she sent a letter to his publishers accusing them of working her late husband to death. He sailed from Liverpool to Montreal, where he renamed himself. Later, as the Canadian author Frederick Philip Grove, he described staging his death and reinventing himself in his first autobiography. 

Felix Greve found here

It is unclear how Elsa made her way to New York. However, it was there she met and married Baron Leo von Freytag-Loringhoven, the black sheep of his illustrious family, in November 1913. Through her marriage to Leo von Freytag-Loringhoven she became a Baroness but little is known about their relationship. Baron von Loringhoven hurried back to Germany at the outbreak of the war and then, not liking war, shot himself – an act which his wife characterized as the bravest of his life. 

black sheep found here

From 1917 on, she published a fair amount of her mostly Expressionist and sometimes Dada-style poetry in various magazines. She also created “ready made” sculptures and collages from random items she stole or salvaged from the trash. Her most famous “ready made” is the plumbing pipe irreverently called “God”

God found here

By the early 1920s, von Freytag-Loringhoven had become a living legend in Greenwich Village. Often arrested for her revealing costumes and ongoing habit of stealing anything that caught her eye, she “leaped from patrol wagons with such agility that policemen let her go in admiration“. She continued to pose for artists, and appeared in a short film made by Man Ray and Marcel Duchamp descriptively titled The Baroness Shaves Her Pubic Hair.

Duchamp and Ray playing chess found here

Margaret Anderson vividly recalls the Baroness’ first entrance into the Little Review’s office: “So she shaved her head. Next she lacquered it a high vermilion. Then she stole crêpe from a house of mourning and made a dress of it. She came to see us. First she exhibited the head at all angles, amazing against our black walls. Then she jerked the crepe with one movement. It’s better when I’m nude, she said.”

Elsa found here

When many of her friends moved to Paris after the First World War, von Freytag-Loringhoven tried desperately to join them. Eventually she returned to Berlin in April 1923 – a time when inflation of the German currency was at its worst. She was reduced to selling newspapers on a street corner of the Kurfüstendamm in the winter of 1923–1924 and was a more or less permanent inmate of several insane asylums. Her outrageous blackmail attempts and demanding propositions to André Gide, George Bernard Shaw, and perhaps other celebrities for living expenses did little to keep her out of trouble. Her notoriously elaborate costumes were not of much help either. In an undated letter to Djuna Barnes, von Freytag-Loringhoven describes an ensemble she wore to the French Embassy in Germany:

Andre Gide found here

“I went to the consulate with a large, wide sugarcoated birthday cake upon my head with fifty flaming candles lit – I felt just so spunky and affluent! In my ear I wore sugar plumes or matchboxes – I forget which. Also I had put on several stamps as beauty spots on my emerald-painted cheeks and my eyelashes were made of gilded porcupine quills – rustling coquettishly – at the consul – with several ropes of dried figs dangling around my neck to give him a suck once and again – to entrance him. I should have liked to wear gaudy colored rubber boots up to my hips with a ballet skirt of genuine gold paper with lace paper covering it (to match the cake) – but I couldn’t afford that! I guess that inconsistency in my costume is to blame for my failure to please the officials?

Cake Head found here

The true circumstances of von Freytag-Loringhoven’s death are still unclear. On December 14, 1927, she died of asphyxiation when the gas in her room at the Rue Barrault was left on overnight.

the foot fetishist and the duchess

Jimmy Donahue was the black sheep grandson of Frank Woolworth

Jimmy Donahue found here

Jimmy was born bad. Knowing he would never have to work in his life, he devised a career for himself – that of mischief-making. His antics were shocking. Only his wealth and social position kept him out of jail. Dressed as a nun he instructed his chauffeur to stop in the middle of the Lake Worth Bridge, pulled up his nun’s habit and squatted. Two passing cars collided. A parachutist and skilled pilot, he flew under the same bridge and buzzed an aircraft carrier, which got him in trouble.

not your usual nun found here

Friends never knew when he would take off his clothes in public or pee in a dish at elegant dinner parties. At other times, he would dress as a prostitute or act out the life of a male hustler or pad a dress with pillows and pretend to be the grand society hostess Elsa Maxwell.

image found here

Most of his time was spent with the super rich. His love for the theater offered a string of chorus boys on tap, but there was a dark side. He shocked everyone when he said he once slept with a cadaver and enjoyed it. It is also rumored he murdered his lover and participated in a brutal stabbing. His good friend was New York Cardinal Francis Spellman, an atrocious homosexual and sexual predator. There were many pranks. But the best was taking the Duchess of Windsor to bed.

Cardinal Spellman and friends found here

Jimmy first met the Duchess at the Palm Beach Palace hotel. He was 25 and she was 44.  For the next four years, they were inseparable as the poor, ageing Duke played the tormented cuckold. Nobody else suspected, because Jimmy, until this point , had been a hugely promiscuous homosexual.

Wallis Simpson found here

By 1950, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor had been married for 13 years and their relationship was largely one-way traffic, with the Duke gaining gratification from his hectoring and abusive wife while she refused him sexual satisfaction.

The Duke, a straight repressed foot fetishist with an interest in masochism, was into sexual self abasement such as nanny/child scenes; he wore diapers, she was the mistress, etc. While Jimmy and the Duchess had non-penetrative and principally oral sex, the Duke looked the other way.

Duke of Windsor found here

She married a King, but screwed a queen,’ was one observation made of the Duchess’s affair with the homosexual Jimmy.

In the end, wiser counsels prevailed – and Jimmy was getting bored anyway. There was a row, Jimmy kicked her on the shin, drawing blood, and finally the tiny Duke gathered up enough courage to shout: ‘We’ve had enough of you now. Get out!’ 

Jimmy went back to the life he’d known before, queening it round the Fifth Avenue bars strictly reserved for New York’s gay upper-crust. When people asked him about the Windsors, he would say: ‘Oh, them! Don’t you know I’ve abdicated?’

From an article by Don Paulson found here

“One night on our way to Peabody’s he asked, ‘Can you get me an Eskimo? I’ve always wanted an Eskimo.’ ‘What age?,’ I asked. ‘What age?! I didn’t think I could get that much service here!’ he replied. Jimmy had tricked all over the world and I mused that an Eskimo was probably the only person left he hadn’t gone to bed with.

Australian band Eskimo Joe found here

“When we got to Madame Peabody’s I started looking for an Eskimo, but I only saw local Indians. Finally, I went up to a good looking Indian and said, ‘I’m looking for an Eskimo.’ He replied, ‘Well, I used to live in Alaska.’ I said, ‘Fine, are you gay?’ ‘No, but I’ll do anything for a price,’ he replied.

“I asked, ‘Do you know how to rub noses?’ He replied, ‘Why would I want to rub noses? You mean rub some guys nose on the floor?’ ‘No, rub noses, that’s how Eskimos kiss,’ I said. ‘You want me to rub noses with you for a price?he asked. ‘No not me, I want to introduce you to someone. You’ll like him and he’s very rich,’ I said. ‘Do I have to pay you a commission?’ he asked. ‘No, it’s all yours,’ I replied.

“He asked, ‘Well, what do I have to do with this man, he won’t do anything except blow me or poke me in the butt will he?‘ I said, ‘Don’t worry about whips or anything like that, it’s okay – think, ice cubes.’ ‘Ice cubes?’ he repeated. ‘Yes, ice cubes. Eskimos live in ice cubes,” I pointed out. ‘Okay, I’ll be a good Eskimo,’ he said. ‘Well then, mush Nanook!’ I said.

“Jimmy got his Eskimo and they had a good time.’

Nanook found here