Modern Living: Mirror, Mirror

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Filipino Massage. The book—described by her husband last week as "a straightforward approach to narcissism" —is saturated with beauty tips and tidbits, both from the author and her friends. Model Mirella Haggiag, for example, recommends going back to sleep after the breakfast tray arrives: Princess Ira von Furstenburg prefers dinners alone (a man is sure to order "pasta or curry with rice, and how can one resist?"). Mrs. J. Paul Getty Jr. imports vegetarian pté from Holland to London, uses no eyeliner but the pure kohl she collects in Marrakesh. Emilio Pucci is high on massage ("I have two Filipino girls who come to the house: I would find it distasteful to be massaged by a man"). Luciana also quotes her mother's beauty plan: "I don't smoke, I don't drink, and I go to bed early. I exercise, and I walk 21 miles every day." Adds her daughter proudly. "After she turned 60, she also had her face lifted."

Luciana herself has her hair streaked white-blonde once a month, reserves a fast day (mashed potatoes and camomile tea) every two weeks, and takes liver injections every two months to smoothe her skin. Her personal recommendations include washing hair with jhassoul ("Ask friends going to Morocco to get a few bars"), smoking Filipino cigars instead of skin-sallowing cigarettes, constant visits to the hairdresser and gymnast, separate bedrooms ("much more conducive to sex") and homosexuals as friends ("a brief, loud hurrah for their incredible eye for line, proportion, detail and style").

Whirlwind Tour. Author Gore Vidal, also quoted in the book, supports the princess all the way. "Beauty is exterior: it is not interior," he says. "Not only does it not matter if there's nothing inside, it probably helps. Character has a tendency to ruin looks." Meanwhile, Luciana, in the midst of a whirlwind U.S. tour promoting her book, is eager to get back to Europe. "I understand," she writes wistfully, "there is a doctor in Paris who does eyelash implants . . ."