![]() ![]() “I think Charles is going to be a good king,” she reassures me. The study, with some of Carter’s flea-market finds © William WaldronĪnna learned diplomacy from her father, who was the British ambassador to Yugoslavia before becoming Queen Elizabeth’s deputy private secretary in 1985. “Ah, too late now!” she recalls of her reaction, giggling at the memory. A New York Police Department pipe band came up for the occasion and, to the Scottish bride’s chagrin, played Irish Republican Army songs. It was her second marriage and his third. The Carters were married in 2005 at a white church a literal stone’s throw from the house. “Some things Graydon spotted, and some things I did. (The motor grinds but the wheel does not turn.) Looking on is an enormous Steiff bear that Carter “liberated” from an antiques store and then paired with a mate. “I think he sees the romance in things, things that were either handmade or beautifully made.” She fiddles with a mechanical toy Ferris wheel and, to our surprise, manages to bring it to life. “I have to say, this is all very Graydon,” says Anna, sounding both charmed and a bit flustered as she surveys the accumulated tchotchkes. The dining area used in winter © William Waldron These are abundant in a country house laden with treasures from Parisian flea markets, sketches from artist friends and trinkets bathed in the romantic glow of postwar Europe and the jet age. ![]() In his private life, he finds it in certain objects, occasionally quirky and usually crafted by the human hand. At Vanity Fair, he located it in Hollywood’s golden age. What does interest him – and always has, he insists – is glamour. “I like watching TV, and I like movies, but I don’t need to know anything about movie stars,” he says. The entrance to the Mud Room features a selection of the couple’s hats © William WaldronĪmong the plethora of prints and portraits crowding the walls of the 18th-century colonial house is nary a mugshot of George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie or other A-listers who graced the cover of Vanity Fair during Carter’s 25-year reign as editor king in an era when magazines – glossy and bulging with advertisements, articles and expense accounts – ruled the culture. For a man whose career was so concerned with celebrity – projecting it, charting its ups and downs, occasionally skewering it, and wrangling it for the year’s most luminous party – it is strangely absent from the country home Graydon Carter shares with his wife, Anna Scott Carter, in bucolic Roxbury, Connecticut. ![]()
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