Why Would Anyone Care About Edie Sedgwick?

Upon hearing this question asked, my first reactions were a flash of indignation, a smirk at the sardonic humour I found in it, and a weary exhaustion with the same sentiment I'd seen echoed so many times before. I sat for a few moments nursing this bitter cocktail of emotions, before I realized I didn't really have an answer, either.

It seems as though for as long as people have known her, in life and death, they've been wondering the same thing. There was no tangible reason why Andy Warhol was enchanted by Edie Sedgwick after meeting her for a single evening, or why those who found themselves in conversation with her never wanted it to end. For most people, the truth was simply this: if you knew Edie, you cared about her. And there was nothing you could do about it.

I'm hardly the first person to try to shove the 5"4 bundle of chaos and light that was Edie Sedgwick into a box that suits her, but upon attempting to do so, the same problem always arises. There's no box big enough, nor any that she wouldn't find a way to claw, burst, or burn her way out of, dancing merrily by and leaving a trail of cardboard ashes in her wake. That being said, I can supply some background information: Edie Sedgwick was the most famous of Andy Warhol's Superstars; the artistic eccentrics that were his muses and movie stars.

Edie was born in 1943, the product of an extremely wealthy American family that dates back to the founding of the United States. She spent her childhood on sprawling ranches, where she and 7 siblings were isolated from the rest of the world, told by their father that they were superior to anyone not sharing in the bloodline. After years of hospitalizations and drug addiction, Edie died at 28.

But what a life she led, with events ranging from being institutionalized and routinely drugged by an abusive father, attending Harvard art school, a brief stint in a biker gang, setting the Chelsea Hotel on fire several times, to playing muse to some of the most influential cultural figures in history. Edie was named Girl of the Year in 1965, dubbed a Youthquaker by Vogue magazine, and is still regarded as one of the original It Girls and fashion icons. These are just a list of facts, reciting them says hardly anything about the woman behind them. There are close to six decades worth of quotes about Edie that I could borrow to describe her, but whenever I try, the string of words that always come back to me are from fantasy novelist Christopher Paolini, describing the ocean:

"It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't." Christopher Paolini, Eragon, 2002

Edie Sedgwick has always been many things to many people, and she remained a bit of a mystery throughout her life even to those closest to her. The product of Andy Warhol's Svengali-like skills, Bob Dylan's reported mistress and muse, the poster-child for the pleasures of youth, a trail-blazer in the fashion world, a cautionary tale against drugs, sex, and rock-and-roll, or an untalented rich girl famous for nothing more than her looks; Edie's very existence invites projection, misconception, and controversy. So, to answer my titular question, I don't know why anyone would care about Edie Sedgwick. I can only tell you why I care about Edie Sedgwick.

It can be difficult to talk, or even think, about Edie without disregarding the full picture of her life to focus on the cheerier, bright and shiny bubblegum aspects, like her time as the queen of Andy Warhol's Factory and the most sought-after party guest in New York City. It's even more difficult not to let the bubble pop; let the bleakness and inevitable tragedy that plagued her colour the entire narrative until you can only see her as a doomed girl in need of saving, drowning in a sea of toxicity that she seemed destined to fall into. But the dichotomy of Edie Sedgwick is what makes her compelling.

She was a poor little rich girl from an extremely wealthy family, who only really had access to any significant amount of money for roughly six months of her life before being cut off by her parents. Edie had a childlike innocence and purity, while going through just about every harrowing experience you could think of. Edie's bloodline was as American as it could've been, yet she was educated by the standards of the British upper-class, learning to speak and write based on their affectations, and didn't fit in with any average citizen in America. She was an artist and intellectual, but all anyone ever wanted to do was call her beautiful and take her picture. She had no real outlet for her intelligence; so it was largely overlooked.

The above image is one of my favourites of Edie, because it captures her spirit so well. Here she's seen dancing at The Factory in her unique way, unafraid to stand out from the crowd behind her as they slow-dance. Edie loved to dance and her weird, wonderful moves became notorious, so much so that there are Youtube videos dedicated to the subject for those who weren't fortunate enough to witness her in person. Along with her brazen dance moves, Edie was bold enough to chop off her long, dark hair, invent a new mask of makeup and slap it onto her face to parade in front of paparazzi in nothing but her controversial costume of a shirt and tights, speak on behalf of a contentious artist on live TV unflinchingly, and engage in all manner of illicit, improper, and endangering behaviour- but she was too afraid to take the subway, or be left alone to sleep at night.

This combination of bravery and vulnerability is why Edie speaks to me the most. There's a passage in Jean Stein's biography, Edie: American Girl, where Edie's sister, Suky, describes what Edie would call her "icky feelings" as a child, getting hung up on any little detail in her games or crafts not being exactly the way she needed it to be and becoming distraught over it.

"I began to realize that Edie had times when she wasn't totally herself. She couldn't escape from it either. I knew it wasn't her fault but I didn't know what the hell it was." Suky Sedgwick

Presumably born of the trauma and abuse she suffered throughout her childhood, this behaviour reminded me of moments I have myself, as a neurodivergent person with Tourette's and an anxiety disorder. That feeling of frustration while fighting to get control over something that is nonsensical yet feels paramount is icky, indeed. These bouts of irrationality were just one of the difficult cards Edie was dealt in life. She was sexually abused many times; including attempts from her father and brothers, suffered from kleptomania, eating disorders, addiction, and depression, or "the big sadness", as she'd call it. By the age of 22, two of Edie's brothers had suffered mental breakdowns and committed suicide. Edie was glowing and ebullient with a lust for life, but never without a colossal darkness and dangerous insecurity underneath.

"If all I cared about was me, I could make a million. That's what they'll never understand." Edie Sedgwick

Despite all of the "bad and sad times" in her life, as she once said, nearly every description of Edie from the hundreds who knew her highlights her non-judgmental, unfiltered compassion, which often translated into a naivety that was her downfall. After months of what one would be fair to call manipulation from Warhol and friends, Edie had received offers from Hollywood executives and considered leaving The Factory. She refused them often, unable to stand working with people who didn't truly care for her, even if it was a strong business decision. Edie did end up leaving The Factory eventually, but instead of becoming a Hollywood starlet, she slipped away on a downward spiral into drugs and deviance.

Edie Sedgwick was a flawed, troubled person, but the things that endear her to me the most are her confounding optimism, and immense strength. There are many anecdotes that illustrate these qualities in Edie, but the one I return to most often is perhaps the most severe. After being kept in a drugged stupor and administered shock treatments at several abusive psych wards, inflicting further damage upon a mind that was already scarred by childhood abuse and methamphetamines, Edie lost all of her motor functions.

The fact that she was ever put in that position is appalling, but the reality of Edie slowly relearning how to walk and talk, and emerging from the institution determined to fit back into society, is quite possibly the most impressive feat I will ever hear about from another human being. I cannot fathom the amount of mental and physical resilience it would have required for Edie to do that, nor can I begin to imagine the terror of waking up one day unable to speak or move. Edie's perseverance and refusal to give up on life despite the profound sadness and strife she had experienced leaves me in awe of her every time I consider it. Remarkably, by all accounts Edie remained faithful in her ability to make her own way and find a happy ending, even when the drugs and the damage had taken a toll on her mind and left her a far different person than the girl who conquered New York City in tights and a leopard coat.

Even after being berated by a stranger at a party and called a worthless drug addict (she was sober from speed, cocaine, and heroin at the time), Edie still held her composure and her commitment to living a functional life. Other guests at the party were a group of young adults discussing drugs. Upon overhearing them, Edie adamantly warned them off of the substances, telling the kids it was not worth what it will do to them, despite how fun they may seem. It makes no sense to be proud of someone who died decades before I was born, but every time I think of that, I am.

After leaving the party, Edie died in her sleep that night. Edie's life began with her fighting an uphill battle of sorts, striving for normalcy and security in an isolated and abusive world, and it devolved into terrible tragedy. There's no sugarcoating or euphemizing the fate that so many children of abuse end up facing. But I take comfort in the fact that at least in some small way, Edie lives on to this day. As the inspiration behind dozens of songs, makeup and fashion lines, music videos, and countless artworks, Edie is everywhere; continuing to reverberate through the public consciousness and touch the lives of people she's never known.

To me, Edie's life represents the best and worst of humanity. I believe she was a stronger person than most ever hope to be, which is why it can be so vexing when others reduce her to just a pretty face or a drug addict. Edie Sedgwick inspires me to believe in the better things to come, to keep my sense of wonder, and to be myself; unabashedly. I don't presume that she's listening, or she'd even care what I think, but if she is, I'd want her to know that her life was not wasted and she was not forgotten, despite how she might've been made to feel small or worthless while she lived. I feel grateful for her existence every day, and I might not know the "real" Edie, but I feel a kinship with the one I do.

The posthumous experience of Edie is much richer than the Wikipedia summaries of her personality, or the label "Andy Warhol's muse". Watching her films, reading what her friends and acquaintances had to say about her, and even watching Ciao! Manhattan, the film she made weeks before her death, all lend a greater perspective than the usual taglines and warped perceptions of her. Edie means something different to every person who encounters her. I can't convince you to care about her, I can only encourage you to seek her out and let her do the convincing.

"There’s no way to tell anyone who hasn’t been through it, there’s no way to explain it to anyone who hasn’t tasted it."

What better way is there to describe Edie Sedgwick than with her own words?