Andy Cohen answers the door of his West Village apartment, a duplex in a 17-floor, circa-1931 Bing & Bing building, wearing a fitted navy T-shirt, plaid shorts, and no shoes. It’s a Wednesday afternoon; he has just woken from a nap and is still a little sleepy. “I have, like, nine jobs,” he says. These include: executive producer of Bravo’s franchise (nine locations to date); host-provocateur of a nightly talk show, ; emcee of Fox’s reboot of vintage game show ; Warhol-style diarist; and Sirius XM radio impresario. Today, though, is a “super-mellow day.” He pours me a glass of San Pellegrino in his handsomely equipped kitchen. “I barely cook, to be honest,” he says.
The living room’s sofa, in a stripe by Paul Smith, and love seat, in a denim, are from . The cocktail table and Italian bench, both 1960s, are from . The faux-bamboo vintage brass stools, with seats in a wool blend, and the midcentury Marcello Fantoni lamp are from . The brass side table is from , the vintage folding chair covered in a leather is from , and the silk burlap wallpaper is by . Green jute rug, . Oak flooring, . Photograph by Elmar Ludwig.
The gold-tiled bar in the living room, however, seems primed for entertaining. Not surprising, perhaps, as many of Cohen’s friends — Anderson Cooper, John Benjamin Hickey, Joe Mantello — live in the neighborhood and often show up for impromptu visits. And the invite list to Cohen’s annual Christmas party is typically 90 guests long.
In the sitting room,, Wacha, perches on a vintage bamboo ottoman from upholstered in a wool blend. The blue midcentury Italian armchair is from and the vintage Guillerme et Chambron armchair, in a stripe, is from . A Roy Lichtenstein lithograph hangs above a mantel in Nero Bilbao marble.
Wacha (pronounced “wocka”) — an adopted mutt he named after Michael Wacha, a pitcher for his hometown St. Louis Cardinals — follows Cohen from room to room. The dog is a celebrity in his own right, with (215,000 followers and counting). As we lounge, me on Paul Smith stripes and Cohen on Ralph Lauren denim, I admire a David Hockney lithograph of the garden of a Mexican hotel that occupies an entire wall. But the real view is outdoors. Windows wrap around the corner apartment, forming a panorama crowned by the Empire State and Chrysler buildings. “The light in this apartment is phenomenal,” Cohen says, “and the views are just sick.”
Cohen gets a boost from a flea-market stool in the kitchen, where the cabinets are painted in the company’s Black/Blue, and the counters are in end-grain walnut and semi-honed black granite. The range is by , the hood is by , the ceiling light is by the ., and the wallpaper is Field of Daydreams by .
He has lived in New York for 27 years — in the West Village for all but two of them — and bought what is now the ground floor of his duplex in 2003. “It was my first adult apartment,” he says.
The master bath’s tub is by . The sinks, fixtures, and sconces are by . The counter and window surround are in Statuary White marble. The wall and hexagonal floor tiles are by .
The decision to expand the space coincided with a shift in his career, when he stepped down from an executive role at Bravo to spend more time in front of the camera. In a scenario out of reality TV, Cohen heard from the doorman of his building that the elderly resident of the unit directly above his own was dying. “I began doing that creepy New York thing of asking, ‘How’s my neighbor?’ Then the guy passed away, and my doorman and super were looking at me like I’d killed him.”
The architect on the project, , designed a custom staircase in glass, walnut, and steel to link the two floors. The doors are painted in a custom green lacquer and the vintage French club chairs are from .
Within months, Cohen hired interior designer Eric Hughes and architect Gordon Kahn to begin the process of turning the original, compartmentalized two-bedroom layout into a series of spaces that flow into one another. A spectacular, sculptural, Frank Lloyd Wright–goes-to–Studio 54 open staircase now connects the two floors. “It’s Gordon’s triumph,” says Cohen.
The powder room is wrapped in ’s Cherry Forever mylar wallpaper, the vanity is by , and the vintage Milo Baughman mirror is from . The purple-resin bowling ball is from and the portrait of Diane von Furstenburg on a framed silk scarf is by Andy Warhol.
His late manager, famed talent agent and real-estate flipper Sandy Gallin, told him, “It’s weird because nothing matches, but everything matches.” A powder room by the front door is cheerfully decadent, withand a red lacquered antechamber that holds a shrine to what Cohen calls his “lady idols”: a Bob Mackie sketch of Tina Turner, a Debbie Harry poster, a photo Cohen took of Madonna licking George Clooney’s Academy Award.
The kitchen and family-room walls are lined with a photomural of an Oregon meadow. “That flowered wallpaper, that yellow buffalo plaid on the couch, are so divinely Andy,” says Cohen’s friend and Village neighbor Sarah Jessica Parker. “They’re whimsical but weighted in something grown-up. I sneak out to Andy’s place when I have a half hour, and we’ll have a drink and catch up.” (Thirst, it seems, is a running trend.)
In the office, a vintage Eames Time-Life desk chair from pulls up to a re-edition of a Bodil Kjaer desk from . The 1960s Danish armchairs, re-covered in a houndstooth, are from . The walnut bookshelves are custom, the vintage chandelier is from , and the rug is by .
Upstairs, Cohen shows me his office, a near-replica of the tchotchke-stuffed set, which he has nicknamed “the Clubhouse.” He points out items on the serpentine shelving that was custom designed to house his autobiography-in-stuff: “These are autograph books from the show that the guests have signed over the years. These are my high school yearbooks. Some old cassettes of Grateful Dead shows. A Peabody award for There’s an Emmy up there.” He gestures to a group of glass jars. “A lot of pot.”
The bed in the master bedroom is upholstered in a plaid by Paul Smith and dressed with . The vintage leather bench is from , the custom nightstands are by , the vintage Pierre Giraudon green-resin lamps are from , and the sconces are by RH Modern. The rug is from and the walls are covered in a wallpaper. The photograph over the bed is by Micheal McLaughlin, and the "Sweety" image to the right of the bed was taken by Cohen at a carnival outside Saint-Tropez.
Cohen’s personal possessions “speak to him in a way that they don’t to a lot of clients,” Hughes explains. “I tried to treat them like artwork, because they’re incredibly important to him.”
A guest bedroom has a bed covered in vintage Mexican blankets. A midcentury nightstand from is topped with a vintage lamp from the End of History. Rug, . Wallpaper, .
Standing in a walk-in closet that holds dozens of suits and more than 500 ties (“It’s a little much,” Cohen admits), he shows me pocket puffs imprinted with Wacha’s face, a gift from a fan. “I have more paintings of Wacha than you would believe,” he says. “When you’re a talk-show host with a dog...people send you things.” The apartment makes him feel like a king, he says, but it’s clear that Wacha, running excitedly in circles as I prepare to leave, reigns supreme.
This story was originally published in the October 2017 issue of Siweb.