Not Quite Straight: The Sapphic Celebrity Heiresses
Rich. Young. Lesbian. Heiresses.
Drugs. Diamonds. Sex. Booze. Designer Dresses. Stolen panties?
The curious case of the death of Casey Johnson, and the even drunker Tweets of reality vixen, Tila Tequila, has exposed the underbelly of an entire gang of lez-leaning celebrity heiresses roaming the streets of Los Angeles (and occasionally, New York/London/St. Moritz/St. Barts) just looking for trouble — The Sapphic Celebrity Heiresses (SCH)
While heiress Paris dabbled on the isle of Lesbos, and even filmed a sex tape with Playmate Nicole Lenz, she’s not on this list. Nor her sister, Nicky. Nor Nicole Richie, Kimberly Stewart, or Bijou Phillips. Those celeb-heiress daughters certainly move in and out of SCH turf, but they’re not flying SCH colors full-time. No ink.
The SCH lost one of their own this week in Johnson, pour a little Grey Goose Martini for the lady-homie, and save yourself some, based upon how this gang rolls, it may not be the last.
Let’s meet the ladies of SCH, shall we?
Most everybody knows about Casey now. The great-great-maybe one more great-granddaughter of the guy who founded Johnson & Johnson back in the 1800’s, when medicine was otherwise a shot of whiskey, a tourniquet, and a priest, this guy started bringing some modern thinking to the problem. And he made a fortune. Cause people will pay a pretty penny to avoid gangrene.
Those pennies turned into billions, passed down from generation to generation, to Casey’s dad, Woody Johnson, who used some of it to by the New York Jets. As in the football team, not a rival gang to the SCH.
As so many next-gen socialites, Casey relocated her semi-educated, drunken rebellious designer jeans covered junk to Los Angeles. It’s probably something to do with the weather, because the drugs, cars, and clubs are just as hot, if not hotter, in New York.
What did Casey do with her badself on the Left Coast? She partied, clubbed, imbibed, vibrated, and titrated, numerous drugs on that last account, landing her in and out of rehab. She gal-palled with heiress friends like the Hilton sisters, tagged team with Bijou Phillips on a bare knuckle beatdown on Nicole Lenz (she of the lesbian sex tape with Paris fame), a fight that rather famously was broken up by Friends actor, Matthew Perry, and girlfriend, Courtaney Semel, lit her hair on fire, so, she punched her. (See below for more info on Courtenay, the Queen of Spades).
Casey’s only regret? She turned down the chance to be Paris’ partner in The Simple Life, opening the door for Nicole Richie to soak up the fame aromas surrounding the famous Fox hybrid reality show.
In a maternal stroke of genius in 2007, this SCH capo di tutti capi got really high, figured out that her desired form of mating was never going to produce her a bequeath-ee, and she adopted a baby girl, Ava, from Kazakhstan.
Like most single moms, Casey found motherhood difficult, trying to balance childcare with the demands of her drug habits and drunken sexy sexy girlfriends. At some point, Casey’s parents cut her off from the family dough, realizing that it was mainly going into the pockets of the kinds of people who don’t file tax returns, and Casey’s life spiraled downhill like a wingless ham.
Rich and addicted is one thing, broke and addicted is far less glamorous. Former mansions and Mercedes quickly turned into filthy homes and letters of repossession, baby Ava was relocated courtesy of a court order from Casey’s mom, and Casey eventually found herself breaking into the home of fellow SCH gang member, Jasmine Lennard, lifting her jewelry and panties like a deviant thief in the night, but not before taking time out of her home invasion for a good self-friggin’, leaving behind her used vibrator like a messed-up cat burglar’s awesomely wrong calling card.
Casey was busted for the crime when in a “d’oh” moment, she sought comfort in the arms of former fling and hair burner, Courtenay Semel, who promptly ratted out Casey when she was her wearing Jasmine’s stolen panties. Don’t you hate when that happens?
There’s a problem, Jaz, Casey Johnson just got into bed with me and she is wearing your underwear. You need to call police. There are documents here, your shoes and your clothing—you need to call the police.
(text from text from gang member Courtenay to gang member Jasmine a day after the robbery)
Casey got hauled off to the Van Nuys police station for her despicably unusual crimes. If you’ve ever been to Van Nuys, you’d understand the severity of being hauled there.
In her final weeks as SCH gang leader, a beleaguered Casey took comfort in the inebriated embrace of fame-dog, Tila Tequila, who herself had made a solid, licentious end-run through the SCH roster over the past couple of years.
Tequila announced that she and Casey were going to get married, as ordained by ten thousand drunken Tweets from Tila, as she propped Casey up for paparazzi photos, classically portraying the happy wasted lesbian rich reality TV couple. Tequila subsequently announced that she was going to adopt Casey’s baby, Ava, coincidentally heir to the Johnson fortune, in addition to announcing that she was already pregnant with her brother’s surrogate child, which in retrospect was an announcement that could have used a little public relations polish from somebody old-fashioned enough to see incest as a generally unpopular topic.
The endearing Sid and Nancy type union between Casey and Tila ended abruptly when Casey was found deceased in her West Hollywood home earlier this week, a cause of death that will likely be related to drugs in some manner, albeit her stately family is hard at work feeding the media with tales of Casey’s diabetes issues.
Post-mortem events have already begun to spiral out of control, as Tila Tequila and full-blooded SCH gang sister, Jasmine Lennard, continue to exchange angry tweet-shots and interviews while gang affiliates, Nicky Hilton and Bijou Phillips were dispatched to Tequila’s home to retrieve Casey’s belongings, most notably her dog, while Tequila suggested that the dog was going to be slaughtered and buried alongside his master, a little SCH trick borrowed from the ancient Aztecs apparently.
Expect no R.I.P.’ing anytime soon on the Casey Johnson front.
Not uncommon to the SCH pathology, Jasmine Lennard was the love-product of a young stage actress and a rich playboy shoe magnate, a relationship that did not survive well. In an unusual twist on this ages old tale of rich dude and unhappy hot chick, Jasmine’s mom named both Jasmine, and her two sisters, Jessica and Pandora, after other chicks that mom found out that dad was knocking boots with on the side. To drive home the insane folly of this nomenclature, imagine that Elin Nordegren has another baby girl with Tiger and names her new daughter Rachel, or Jamie, or just, Vegas Club Trash.
Jasmine ditched dysfunctional homelife at fourteen (apparently pocketing most of mom’s loose cash for the ride) and traded her fetching good looks for a one-way ticket on the Lolita express, traveling the world as a fashion model, under the gentle and guiding hands of the world’s greatest young-girl fashioned photogs. One can only imagine how many gum drops and lollipops went by the way side on those foreign adventures.
For a reprise on the lollipops, see Jasmine in her near-award winning performance in Guy Ritchie’s Revolver, the third and completely identical to the first two films from Madonna’s husband.
Lennard’s SCH street cred really rocketed when she took on the Herculean task of appearing on numerous British modeling reality TV shows, and even more heinous, apparently bumping uglies with Simon Cowell. Yes, that Simon Cowell. Make no mistake, the girls of SCH are loyal to the vayjayjay, but there is the “net worth of $100M or more male exception” rule written right there in red lipstick in the gang code book.
In 2007, Lennard boxed up her million dollar wardrobe of samples, refilled her “cold sore” medications, and hauled skankalicious-tail off to L.A. to be tight with her SCH peeps.
If you believe Lennard’s accounts of her West Coast bonding-hours with Casey Johnson, she tried to guide the Johnson & Johnson back to the land of the functionally sober, to no avail.
Casey’s family tried desperately to help her,” she said. “There was a car ready 24 hours a day to take her to the best rehab facility in the country. When it came out that Casey had been arrested, she had nobody and was lost. Tila got a hold of her and said, ‘hey, come out with me and we’ll show them!’ For her to die with this reputation, it’s just not her. Tila is a sick, sick girl…. On one occasion she (Tila) called me and a male friend screaming, saying people were breaking into her home. When I arrived, she was naked with a kitchen knife screaming, but no one was there. Everyone who crosses her path suffers consequences.
In fact, if you believe Lennard’s accounts, post-mortem, but, of course, Casey tapped Jasmine to be the new mom of daughter and heir-to-the-throne, Ava, should anything happen to Casey.
Throw in a Church Lady “how convenient” shout out on that verbal contract claim.
SCH member Courtenay’s daddy is Terry Semel, former chairman of Warner Bros., and more notably, former CEO of Yahoo!, which most notably earned him over a half-billion buckaroos in his half-dozen years at the head of the Internet search engine firm.
That means Courtenay’s pretty much set for life. And set for life in SCH means 40’s of Cristal and skeeving with da’ ladies. And Courtenay’s been an examplary player on both fronts.
Courtenay Semel first rose to prominence, well, prominence outside of stricken court records, for being the Mary to pop Lindsay Lohan’s girl-on-girl cherry. Yep, she got there even before fellow SCH gang member and more prominent Lilo-lover, Sam Ronson. Sadly, like Amerigo Vespucci sitting back and watching Columbus get all the credit for finding a New World, Semel’s lezzy-fame-claim became quickly overshadowed by SamRo, causing Semel to fly into a dangerous mix of Land Rovers and speed (not the measure of the rate of motion definition of “speed”, no, the Urban Dictionary definition).
However, unlike other members of the SCH, Semel did not let booze, drugs, women, or lack of a formal education deter her from the prime directive — appearing on a semi-retarded reality television program — in this case, “Filthy Rich: Cattle Drive”. Surprisingly, the show was turned down by PBS, but did find a short-lived home on E! Entertainment Television, the vacuous repository of all-things unseemly.
(Did you know? “Filthy Rich” was produced by Joe Simpson, leather-pants clad Texas preacher father of Jessica Simpson and Ashlee Simpson. And if you did know — why?)
Semel efforted an on-again, off-again relationship with Casey Johnson. As a point of fact, Semel seemed to have similar relationships with most every prominent young lesbian west of the Missisippi (and east of the mighty river as well, thanks to the advent of the modern jet airplane).
Semel and Tila Tequila were an item at one time. Not an item you buy so much as one you look at in the window because you can’t make yourself stop looking. And, eventually Cupid found Semel and Johnson, depsite the aforementioned fight where Courtenay lit Casey’s hair on fire and Johnson punched her in the face. To be fair to Semel, it was Hanukkah time and, in her drug-addled state of consciousness, Semel mistook Johnson for a wayward shamash candle.
The two quickly made up. Afterall, Sundance beckoned.
Everybody thinks they know SCH member, Samantha “Sammy the Bull” Ronson. But do you really? Do you?
At 32, Samantha’s the elder statesmen of the gang and what one might objectively call, the most butch. By a mile. Or two.
Another of the Semitic members of the gang, Ronson’s parents were of distinguished British social circles, involved with foundations, charities, and the types of really boring and staid cocktail parties that fund these social causes. In fact, the doldrums overtook the entire Ronson clan, leading Mom Ronson to find herself a new man in Mick Jones, that dude from Foreigner, who relocated all the little Ronsons to the Americas.
While Sam’s twin sister got into the girly-girl world of fashion, Sam took a slightly different path — rock music, hip-hop Dj’aying and playing with the lady-ho-ho’s.
Enter Lindsay Lohan. Ultimate lady-ho-ho.
If she would dance, I would DJ.
— The Beastie Boys, Girls
And so they did. While Lindsay danced, and did blow, and danced some more, Sam spun the tunes at hot clubs, urging the poser hordes to get on up and dance. And the two made sweet passionate love. And drank. And crashed cars. And did more blow.
And when the media hounds would just not quit with the questions about their love whose name we dare not speak, SamRo called them “retarded”.
Sadly, like Tony and Maria, this love story was not to have a happy ending as Ronson and Lohan were bound to two different worlds, two different gangs; the Sapphic Celebrity Heiresses for Ronson, the Trainwreck Hollywood Starlets for Lohan. Of course, LiLo nobly covered up the star-crossed source of this couple’s breakup, by claiming that she was taking time off the relationship to focus on her work. As if.
Now, Ronson spins her records, the rotating vinyl a sad remember of early morning snuggles with ginger-topped ho-ho.