Although it's common knowledge at this point that John Kennedy. schtupped everything that moved, this month's Vanity Fair insists on perpetuating the Camelot fantasy of squeaky clean Kennedy imagery. Though painting Jack as the ideal family man is dishonest at best, the constant reverence given to Jackie galls me no end. Sure, she was beautiful and slim and she dressed well. Good for her. Most thorough accounts of Jackie also show her to be a gold-digging, status-seeking lightweight. Also? Through most of the early sixties Jack and Jackie were as high as kites, receiving near-daily amphetamine-laced injections from Dr. Max Jacobson, aka "Miracle Max."
According to a 1989 biography called A Woman Named Jackie by C. David Heymann:
Truman Capote described the common effect of the Jacobson amphetamine treatment as one of 'instant euphoria. You feel like Superman. You're flying. Ideas come at the speed of light. You go 72 hours straight without so much as a coffee break. You don't need sleep, you don't need nourishment. If it's sex you're after, you go all night. Then you crash-it's like falling down a well...You go running back to [Miracle Max]. You're looking for the German mosquito, the insect with the magic pinprick. He stings you, and all at once you're soaring again.' Max Jacobson's amphetamine injections provided Jackie Kennedy with the fuel that enabled her to survive the White House Restoration Project."
She needed her energy for decorating! And that's not all. After Kennedy's death, Jackie's marriage to Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis was widely acknowledged to be for the money. "I can't very well marry a dentist from New Jersey," Jackie told friends. And boy, did Jackie ever clean up. Before she even agreed to marry Onassis, Jackie insisted that he put $3 million into her bank account. "Do you think $3 million is too much?" Onassis asked an associate. "Hell no. You can buy a supertanker on that, but then you have to pay fuel, maintenance, insurance and a lot of extras."
Wait! There's more. According to a new book, Ol' Supertanker also didn't like it if her daughter, Caroline, put on pound or two. "You're not going to order dessert, Caroline," Jackie allegedly said to Caroline. "You're much too fat. Nobody will ever want to marry you."
Say what you will about Hilary Clinton, but at least she never told Chelsea to lay off the cheesecake. Jackie O the icon might have been a model of impeccable taste, but as a person, she was pretty fucking tasteless. Unseen Camelot [Vanity Fair]