I first met Meghan Boody in 1988, when she held some of the best parties in town at her Park Avenue South cul-de-sac. Many of the diciest of New York's then demi-monde also attended (and have since gone to their reward): Baird Jones, Howie Montaug, Red Spot, Rockets Redglare and Willoughby Sharp. Nothing beat chatting with Meghan in her-low cut blouse and fishnet stockings, while downing champagne in her bathtub, and, in the spring of '88, I took the plunge and asked her out on a date.
