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Life begins at 54 for Liza Minnelli and Shirley MacLaine and Farrah Fawcett-Majors and Supermodel Cheryl Tiegs. Oh yes, and for Bianca Jagger and Tennis Star Vitas Gerulaitis and even Bella Abzug. Inside Manhattan's hottest disco, Studio 54, the elite meet to gyrate to the beat, watch the light show, gape and be gaped at. Since the club opened nine months ago, Photographer Adam Scull, son of Art Buff Robert Scull and his estranged wife, Ethel, has been there almost' nightly to snap the customers because, he says, "it's something that won't last forever, so it is good to document it."
But Owner Steve Rubell, who light-show years away was a Wall Street broker, is striving for permanent chic. Most nights he stations himself at the doorway (with a few bouncers) to weed the throngs begging for entrance. "We only want fun people," he explains. "The wilder the clothes, the better the chance you have of getting in. We discourage the Bagel Nosh-polyester group."
And a lot of other folks besides. John F. Kennedy Jr., who neglected to drop his name, was turned away. Aspiring Starlet Sunny Leigh, who claims that club personnel kept her outside the inner sanctum "violently and with great force," is suing Studio 54 for a cool $13 million. Even Dallas Cowboy Defensive End Harvey Martin, the terror of the Super Bowl, was stopped at the door. Now that's selectivity. Or a death wish.