You see a lot of strange things living in New York City. But during the decade I spent in Gotham, perhaps nothing – or rather, nobody – caught my eye quite as memorably as Zelda Kaplan, the vibrant nana whose presence on the nightlife scene was a total kick. I can still remember the last time I saw her: at a party celebrating the premiere of
Lipstick Jungle, high above the busy streets of Manhattan, in the shoe department of Saks Fifth Avenue. She looked like an elegant grape, fabulously dressed in a purple suit with a matching turban on her head. She was perched on a sofa, talking to some young turk in an equally ridiculous outfit, and she looked like she was having a fine time. “Gee,” I thought, “who on earth let that old lady in here? And why?”
Zelda elicited the same reaction whenever she went out. And she went out – a lot. Almost always dressed in eye-catching African prints and her signature turban, she managed to waltz past any velvet rope she chose. This happened, I think, not because bouncers were too afraid to turn a woman in her 90s away from their door, but because she oozed savoir faire. She glided through both fusty drawing rooms and dingy nightclub dance floors with ease. She could talk to anybody. And she was, by all accounts, a genuinely lovely person. Who wouldn’t want a woman like that at their party?
Joanna Mastroianni wanted Zelda at her New York Fashion Week runway show on Wednesday, so she gave her a front-row seat. According to reports, just as the sixth model came stomping down the runway, Zelda slumped over in her chair. She was quickly rushed to hospital, where she died at the age of 95. Think about it: front row, at a fashion show, looking fabulous. Could she have gone in a more fitting way?
We’re currently prepping our annual Age Issue, which will be on newsstands from April 18. Last year, the issue featured a lovely, inspiring profile of Zelda, and
you can read it here. Lest you think she was just some old lady trying to get in her last jollies, Zelda proved otherwise with a fascinating backstory: she was a former ballroom-dance instructor, a fierce woman’s rights crusader and, nearly half a centuray ago, an early crusader against female circumcision who travelled all the way to Africa to help the cause.
“I think growing old is fun,” she told
madison. “Being alive is exciting, because you never know what’s going to happen tomorrow. You never know what’s going to happen this evening. You never know what’s going to happen this
afternoon.” What a sentiment. What a woman. What a life!
Nicholas Fonseca is madison's feature and news editor. You can follow him on Twitter at @NFonseca78