the story of n; Nancy Jarecki's approach to benevolence, business, and one's "betty" is wildly and wonderfully original.(Biography)

Byline: Sally Singer

Last spring, a very rich and

beautiful woman named Nancy Jarecki visited the Vogue offices. She wore a lacy Marc Jacobs jacket and True Religion Brand Jeans and carried a Bottega Veneta tote. After a breakfast of scrambled eggs in a private dining room, she announced that she had a surprise for me and my colleague. "Shut your eyes," she commanded. And we did. For about a minute we listened to various rustling noises. I sneaked a glance through a barely opened eye. "Don't peek, Sally," she said instantly, with a mom's all-knowing, unfoolable firmness. Another minute passed. "Now you can look," she said. We did. Before us was a row of glossy lunch-bag-size product cartons. Each bore the words color for the hair down there. We blinked hard. It's not often that the subject of pubic hair arises before noon. Then again, in her friend Blaine Trump's words, Jarecki "is so out of the box"-as it were-"you expect the unexpected from her." "You peeked," she accused me afterward, with a smile. "You have to tell that story!" And so I have. But here are some other stories about Nancy, a woman who knows the full value of a tale well told.

Roman Holiday

In August 2001, Nancy and Andrew Ja_recki move from New York to Rome with their two young sons. They plan to stay for a couple of years, and they have the means to do so: They have just completed the sale of their interest in an enterprise called Moviefone, which

Andrew cofounded ten years earlier, and are worth more than $600 million.

Andrew passes the time learning Italian (he is fluent within four months) and editing a documentary he has directed, produced, and titled Capturing the Friedmans. It will in due course be nominated for an Oscar, create a huge stir, and make a lot of money. Nancy, meanwhile, acquaints herself with the Eternal City's every nook, cranny, and curiosity shop. One day, while having her hair done in an old-style local salon, she notices that certain ladies leave holding a small bag. "What's in the bag?" she asks the proprietor. The proprietor murmurs something in Italian involving the words hair and down below. Ah, Nancy says. She has never encountered this custom before. Images…