Tag Archives: Monica Noel

Who is George Lindemann, Jr.?


Oh, Monica, how can you laugh? George is back to frying frogs and im sure puppies are next!"

"Oh, Monica, how can you laugh? George is back to frying frogs and I'm sure puppies are next!"

For anyone who missed the story, George Lindemann Jr. is the son of one of the wealthiest men in the world, George Lindemann Sr., of Greenwich and Palm Beach. George Junior grew up in Greenwich and graduated from Brown but his heart was set on being an Olympian. To further that end dad bought his boy Cellular Farm (one of dad’s fortunes was made in cellular communications) in Armonk, New York, just up the road from Greenwich. Georgie proved as inept at managing a horse farm as he was at riding and dad eventually grew tired of footing the bills for a failed venture. “Make the place profitable” he warned,”or I shut the place down.”


Georgie was in a panic. He’d spent $250,000 of his father’s money on “Charisma”, a jumper that was supposed to bring fame, and a subsequent improvement in fortunes, to George and cellular Farms. But the horse was a bust. Rather than admit defeat or plead with his father for more time, Georgie hired a professional horse killer to come up to Armonk and electrocute his horse. If you aren’t squeamish, here’s how a horse is killed for insurance purposes: the killer takes a heavy-duty extension cord and cuts off the female end, replacing it with two alligator clips attached by a long wire. One clip is attached to the horse’s ear, the other to his anus and the cord’s plugged into a wall socket. The lights flicker, the horse starts to fry and eventually his guts blow up, simulating a fatal case of horse colic. Horses are big and rot quickly so their bodies usually don’t hang around long enough for an insurance adjuster to view the corpse. Instead, the owner either buries it immediately or pays the local large animal veterinarian to sign off on the cause of death and then brings in the bulldozer. So long as the killer is careful not to leave obvious scorch marks around the anus, no one complains too loudly, especially if the vet is paid handsomely for his troubles.

Georgie was convicted of his crimes. Sentenced to jail, he never attended – in fact, as far as we can determine, he never even endured a full body cavity search – there are some things you just don’t do to the son of the richest man in town. He has retreated to Miami, Florida, where he now poses as a patron of the arts, philanthropist and all-around decent good citizen. His parents, of course, are best friends with Walter and Monica Noel. What a small world.


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Oh no, not more of the Fabulous Five!

But how can I resist? Business Sheets, in what’s probably an act of copyright infringement but what they’re calling fair use and commentary, has reproduced the long-lost original Vanity Fair article on the girls. You can read it here,as I’m about to. Hurry, before VF’s lawyers (or maybe the Noel’s) make them take it down).


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Dress for Success Foundation loses donor, Monica will step in to rescue effort

Monica Noel Child's Party Dress, size 6
Monica Noel Child’s Party Dress, size 6

Caroline Waxler reports that as the result of losing $552 million in its Madoff-invested endowment, a foundation that provided funding to Dress for Success, the group that helps unemployed women wear decent clothes for job interviews is shutting its doors immediately.

We tracked down Monica Noel for comment and found her mucking the pig sty behind the family cottage on Round Hill Road, accompanied by all five of the fabulous Noel Girls. Told of the situation, Monica was sympathetic. “Oh hell,” she said, tossing aside her pitchfork and wiping her hands, “I suppose we can do something for those people – the publicist will insist on it anyway. I’ve got a ton of unsold party dresses I can’t unload anywhere else, they can have them.”
“Girls sizes?” we asked.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she pointed out, “and I should know. Look, they can just put their brats in them and drag the little darlings along to the interview. That ought to impress someone. And it’s the best I can do right now, unless they want to work as indentured servants in Brazil.”
Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Bob Jaffe who, it turns out, was there to collect Walt Noel’s own clothes for an upcoming ebay sale. Mission accomplished, Bob motored away, waving a fond farewell to Monica, the girls and this reporter. Bon voyage!


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Where is he now?

Two of my quicker readers identified Freyda Lindemann, shown in “Hot Time in Palm Beach” as the mother of George, who electrocuted show horses for fun and profit back in the 90s. How quickly we forget – I wrote a novel set in Greenwich and based on Georgie’s antics but my agent hated it – more to the point, he hated the main character, a feeling held by most of the horse set, I suppose. George was convicted in 1995 . Did he ever go to jail? His dad was #512 on Forbe’s richest people in the world list (but did he invest with Walt?) so I doubt it; even if he did he’s probably out by now. Given the friendship displayed between Freyda and Monica Noel (that friendship looks a little frayed in the supplied photo) perhaps George was rehabilitated and went to work selling investments in Fairfield Greenwich’s Sentry Fund. It would have been right up his alley.


Update: Aw, isn’t this sweet? Georgie is now down in Miami, where he serves on the board of directors of an art museum, and is a noted philanthropist and champion of civil rights. That would be civil rights for humans, not animals. Just in case you were wondering how a noted benefactor and philanthropist kills his prized horse for insurance money, he hired a killer to bring into the stables an extension cord with two alligator clips attached. Fasten one clip to the horse’s anus, another to the ear, plug into wall socket and, after some minutes of torment, the horse’s entrails explode, a death usually ascribed to colic. One dead horse, one hefty insurance pay off and the son of one of the richest men in the world is off to Florida to become king of the Jet Set.

Here’s his house. Very nice, but I see no evidence of any horses on this waterfront mansion. Do you suppose a prohibition against owning a horse was a condition of his parole?

Southern Union Corporation, the natural gas company dad founded and George oversees, no doubt with the advice Walter Noel, seems to be disappointing its major shareholders. Like Noel’s FGG, nepotism seems to run in the family here, so to speak.


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Life in the slow lane

When Monica Noel sat in for her now infamous interview with the New York Post she insisted that the Noels were just an ordinary family whose children grew up in a normal cottage. Rich? Not the Noels.

So what does a “not rich, normal Greenwich family” wedding look like? 

The Times tells us:

On June 25, they were married in the early evening before 400 guests at Christ Episcopal Church in Greenwich in a wedding that was European in spirit. The dark, gothic-style church was filled with piano music, big hats, bright colors and flowers that were inspired by everything from Impressionist paintings to Christian Lacroix gowns.

The bride wore a long ponytail and a sleeveless dress with a scooped back that was made by Lorenzo Riva, a Milan designer.

The 10 bridesmaids wore short dresses in different summer colors like watermelon-pink, lime green and the bright yellow of new tennis balls. They carried bouquets of hot pink, coral and saffron roses.

All around them, like shooting stars, ran five flower girls in white Monica Noel dresses and white fabric flower headbands.

For the reception at the nearby Round Hill Country Club, Dorothy Wako, a New York floral designer, planted a traditional English garden with the feel of a country cottage.

The garden was filled with rambling pink roses, wild sweet peas, lavender Canterbury bells and white peonies that were as soft looking as powder puffs and as big as melons.

“Ariane wanted to please all the senses with this wedding,” said Tierney Gifford Horne, a friend of the bride who is the fashion director at Mademoiselle magazine.

During dinner, guests sat at tables named after the couple’s favorite places — Geneva, Aspen, Klosters, Anguilla, Firenze, San Michele. At 1:30 A.M., after a night that included a song- and-dance toast by the bride’s four sisters, who called themselves the “Noel Supremes,” the couple drove off in an old classic yellow Buick convertible from the 1950’s.

“They went off for a three-week honeymoon,” said Alix Noel, a sister of the bride. “The first week is in the great barrier reef in Australia; the second week is a week of heli-skiing in New Zealand, and the third week they’ll spend in a remote bungalow on an island in Fiji. They’ll go scuba diving in Australia and skiing in New Zealand. They love the sporting life.”

My kids love the sporting life too and they grew up in a normal Greenwich household. Does this mean that I must spring for a few weeks of heli-skiing in New Zealand for each of them? Must I pay for ten bridesmaids, or would it be considered abnormal if I just paid the kids to elope?


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Bah, humbug!

The Noel’s family foundation wasn’t all that generous, according to its tax returns. But they did give some money to those public schools Monica sent her kids to, Greenwich Country Day ($5,000) and Greenwich Academy ($15,0000). “Charity begins at home,” Monica snapped when reached by telephone, “and home is 175 Round Hill Road – piss off.”


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Okay, last Noel post until after Christmas

Unless something else breaks before then, of course.

That same blog I linked to below, Guest of a Guest .com has kindly sent me its latest gossip; Vanity Fair, having granted Mama Noel the publicity she sought for herself and her bootiful, if a bit horse-faced daughters, is now demanding that the Noels give them their side of the story or else. Or else what? I suppose they’ll just turn the whole matter over to Dominick Dunne and see what he does with it.

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