Vanity Fair's HALL OF FAME

1987—it was some trashy year. Every time we tried to take a scandal seriously, some bimbo raised her tousled head—it was like Charlie's fallen Angels. We wanted to trace every last dollar to its contra destination; instead we found out about Ollie North buying panty hose. We wanted to know where all those PTL donations went; instead we got Jim Bakker giving "gay looks'' and opening his bathrobe. We wanted to know about New York's big-city corruption; instead we got motor-mouth from the ex-wife of the sometime lover of the former Miss America. By the time we got to Gary Hart's monkey business, we'd lost our capacity to be shocked. Instead, we took our seats at the new American passion play. Act One, excoriation (by Ted Koppel). Act Two, forgiveness (by self). Act Three, absolution (by Barbara Walters). The world was upside-down. Gotti walked, Vanna talked, and Gorby made nice. Rambo was a wimpo, pit bulls bit the dust, and it was a bad year for the Marines. Even death refused to be decent; Casey told tales from the grave. Warhol checked in but he didn't check out. Primo Levi refused to survive anymore. So, in his way, did Rudolf Hess. And through it all, AIDS kept stealing away the best and the brightest. So where's the silver lining? Right here, in our annual harmonic convergence, the 1987 Hall of Fame.

Because the Material Girl is now the biggest-grossing female star in America. Because she wowed the Japanese, seduced the French, and blitzed the Brits. Because she keeps Sean Penn out ofourhair.

Because at twenty-one he is the youngest-ever heavyweight champion of the world, and the most exciting fighter since Muhammad Ali. Because he emerged from the alphabet soup of boxing divisions (W.B.C.,W.B.A.,I.B.F.) to reunify boxing's most visible crown. Because, despite appearances, he doesn't have a swelled head.

Because with his unlikely best-seller, The Fatal Shore, he became the Gibbon of the antipodes. Because his art criticism combines voracious scholarship with virile convictions. Because even at buttoned-down Time Inc. he goes to work in blue jeans.

Because every week she leaves Park Avenue to care for people with AIDS, ause by her example she has inspired other wealthy New Yorkers to give not just money but time. Because she has brought a new dignity to society women.

Because by the time he died of AIDS at forty-four his Ridiculous Theatrical Company had made low camp into high art. Because as author, director, and star he was the Orson Welles of downtown. Because his squirly performance in The Big Easymakes us long for what might have been.

Because with his first novel, Presumed Innocent, he pinned us all to our beach blankets until we learned who killed Carolyn. Because he chose a prestige publisher, and made a bundle anyway. Because with this whodunnit, he really dunnit.

Because since 1969, when she established Hale House in Harlem, she has used love and faith to nurse over six hundred children of drug addicts. Because at the age of eighty-two she has added AIDS babies to her lifework. Because the spirit moves her.

Because in an era of star vehicles it was an ensemble triumph. Because it had jaded New Yorkers crying about waifs as they stepped over the homeless on their way out of the theate Because it madeyougo to Victor Hugo.

Because, having revived the couture, he disappeared from Patou in apoufof smoke with $8 million to start his own maison. Because everyone has had to buy his riotous Provencal froufrou even though it looks as weird as hell on Park Avenue. Because he himself wears Ralph Lauren.

Because she established a new standard for the American secretary: shred the papers, stuff boots, and wrap your boss in the flag. Because with her big hair and her long legs she looks better than anyone who could play her in the mini-series. Because she kept her panty hose on.

Because he uses his money to have the most fun, and he uses his fun to make the most money. Because, although he's the Elsa Maxwell of adventure capital, his seventy-year-old Forbes magazine has never lost its probing zeal. Because he's a biker and a balloonatic.

Because her playSerious Money savages the very yuppies who pay to see it. Because no one else would dare ridicule today's stock-market robber baronets in rhyming couplets. Because she's brought journalistic bite to a toothless Off Broadway.

Because inSwimming to Cambodiahe dove into the mainstream. Because he's made personal history into public drama. Because he makes rap music for Episcopalians.

Because her debut in Wish You Were Here makes you wish you were there. Rise at the age of seventeen she's got the longest leg since Faye Dunaway and the freshest mouth since Bette Davis. Because, as the year's brightest new star, she can can say to Hollywood: "Up yer bum."

Because, rumpled and dogged, he bore down on all the president's men at the Iran-contra hearings. Because by defending controversial clients and challenging popular heroes, he's shown he's not afraid to draw hisses from all sides. Because he's got that great Liman taste.