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Wednesday, Nov 25, 2009
The famous ex-preacher's wife talks about her new self-help book, kicking Ativan, forgiving Jerry Falwell, and why she's a gay icon.
Sep 25, 2003 | Makeup shopping with Tammy Faye? It seemed like a great idea at the time. I arranged to meet the Queen of Eyeliner at the makeup counter in the bowels of Bergdorf Goodman in the midst of her promotional trip to New York for her new self-help tome, "I Will Survive ... And You Will, Too!"
In her book, Tammy Faye Messner (she's remarried and no longer a "Bakker") proves herself to be a font of advice such as "I think almost everyone should own a wig. It makes every day a good hair day" and asks big questions like "Who made the rule that you don't put mascara on false eyelashes, anyway?" So I thought she might be able to give me a few tips on jazzing up my look.
I had no idea I'd start a mini makeup riot.
Tammy Faye has certainly survived a lot. As you likely recall, she and her ex-husband, Jim Bakker, once presided over the PTL (Praise the Lord) Club, a TV network on which they were watched daily by about 13.5 million people, and Heritage USA, a popular gospel theme park in South Carolina. They owned lavish properties as well as his-and-hers Rolls Royces.
But in 1987, Bakker was forced out of his PTL post when certain irregularities in his business and private life began to leak out. (Remember the allegations of bisexuality and his infamous one-nighter with church secretary and future Playboy model Jessica Hahn?) In 1988, Bakker was sent to prison for diverting millions of dollars from PTL's coffers for his personal use and PTL crumbled along with the Bakkers' reputation and fortunes.
For a time, the flamboyant Tammy Faye retreated from the spotlight, all the while maintaining her and Jim's innocence and insisting that the Rev. Jerry Falwell had orchestrated their fall for his own gain. But a few years ago, an award-winning documentary film, "The Eyes of Tammy Faye," narrated by RuPaul, was made about her rise and fall and she quickly became a cult figure. And now -- having also survived cancer, an addiction to prescription drugs, second husband Roe Messner's two-year stint in prison for bankruptcy fraud and the deaths of numerous close family members -- she's back and busier than ever. Not only is she promoting her book, she's also peddling a one-woman play, has just signed on to do a reality TV show, and is fixing to re-enter the world of Christian television with "The Tammy Faye Show," a daily variety program she's planning to syndicate.
The afternoon of our Bergdorf meeting, it's not hard to spot Tammy Faye, with a middle-aged man and a woman trailing her like loyal pups, striding past the society women who populate the store in the middle of a workday. She looks pretty much like you'd expect her to look -- lots and lots of makeup; teased-out, blond-streaked red hair; black-and-white striped outfit with matching black-and-white striped earrings -- only way better and, like most celebrities, much tinier.
After we exchange greetings and she introduces me to her companions -- her cousin Phyllis, in to meet her from Minnesota, and Joe, the man she credits with coaxing her back into the spotlight after all these years -- I share my makeover plan.
"Oh, well, see, if I'd known you wanted to pick out makeup, I'd have taken you to the drugstore," Tammy Faye whispers from behind her hand.
She digs around in her purse and whips out her off-the-rack eyeliner: Maybelline Great Wear. "They say it doesn't budge, and it's true," she says. "It adds drama."
Eyeliner stowed, we pause and look at the tubes and tubs tastefully arrayed on one of the makeup section's many counters.
A subtly made-up woman steps around the counter and asks if she can help us.
Tammy Faye looks confused, panicked even. "I know how to do my own makeup," she says. "But I wouldn't know how to do anyone else's."
We turn to leave, but she's been recognized. Makeup salespeople and customers begin to swarm. Men and women rush from behind their counters, pressing compliments on Tammy Faye and creams, unguents, perfumes and lotions into her palms. It's mayhem.
But Tammy Faye is in her element, thanking people, shaking hands left and right, positively glowing as I whisk her out of there, up the elevator and into the store's white-tableclothed café, where she orders tea and cookies and stops to smell the roses on the table.
"Aren't they cute?" she says of the flowers, bunched in a silver cup.
Then I switch on my tape recorder, she helpfully props it up between the salt and pepper shaker, and we're off.
What made you decide to write this book now?
Because they asked me. They came and found me. I still can't believe it. I thought my 15 minutes of fame was up long ago. Then the book company came and said, would you like to write a book? And I said, well, I would love to but what do you want me to write about? And they said, whatever you want. So I went home and just started writing from my heart on my old typewriter.
