Joan Crawford Quotes

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.

Don't fuck with me, fellas. This ain't my first time at the rodeo.

I think that the most important thing a woman can have- next to talent, of course- is her hairdresser.

I find suggestion a hell of a lot more provocative than explicit detail. You didn't see Clark[Gable] and Vivien[leigh] rolling around in bed in Gone With The Wind, but you saw that shit eating grin on her face the next morning and you knew damned well she'd gotten properly laid.

Any actress who appears in public without being well-groomed is digging her own grave.

I need sex for a clear complexion, but I'd rather do it for love.

I love playing bitches. There's a lot of bitch in every woman - a lot in every man.

If you want to see the girl next door, go next door.

Damn it . . . Don't you dare ask God to help me.

love is fire. but whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house,you can never tell.

1. Find your own style and have the courage to stick to it. 2. Choose your clothes for your way of life. 3. Make your wardrobe as versatile as an actress. It should be able to play many roles. 4. Find your happiest colours - the ones that make you feel good. 5. Care for your clothes, like the good friends they are!

I think the most important thing a woman can have - next to talent, of course, - is her hairdresser.

Learn to breathe, learn to speak , but first ..learn to feel

No wire hangers!

Always be a first-rate version of yourself, instead of a second-rate version of somebody else.” – Judy Garland

best Hitchcock films not made by Hitchcock. Here we go: Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment.

Double Indemnity, Gaslight, Saboteur, The Big Clock . . . We lived in monochrome those nights. For me, it was a chance to revisit old friends; for Ed, it was an opportunity to make new ones. And we’d make lists. The Thin Man franchise, ranked from best (the original) to worst (Song of the Thin Man). Top movies from the bumper crop of 1944. Joseph Cotten’s finest moments. I can do lists on my own, of course. For instance: best Hitchcock films not made by Hitchcock. Here we go: Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment.

If you ordered up a whore here, you'd probably get a theater major doing Joan Crawford as Sadie Thompson. I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a Hershey bar?" His eyes lit up for a moment. "I wonder what would happen if I ordered up a whore and a Hershey bar?

French women choose a scent when they’re girls and use it until they’re grandmothers. It becomes their trademark. 'Ah,' he murmurs in the dark theater, 'Giselle is here tonight!' But I think that a woman usually outgrows a fragrance every decade or so.

You go to white movies and, like everybody else, you fall in love with Joan Crawford, and you root for the Good Guys who are killing off the Indians. It comes as a great psychological collision when you realize all of these things are really metaphors for your oppression, and will lead into a kind of psychological warfare in which you may perish.

No wire hangers!!!

[Joan's rule for dressing well] When you finish a creation, take something off. Diminish, diminish, diminish.

Ginny writes: “It’s such bullshit that there are plenty of Joan Crawfords and assholes like my husband running around among us and your mom is not.

Perhaps that was it. Or, and this is important: Joan Crawford was thin. I was not, and this is one of the many things for which my mother never quite forgave me.

The intelligent woman adapts herself to fashion, but never to fad. She knows what is best for her, and her way of life, and sticks to it. She raises and lowers her hemline — with discretion — but she goes on with her timeless dresses made with the basic lines and fabrics that flatter HER, define HER life style. She’s secure, and so she can be an elegant individual.

I’ve persuaded myself that I hate things that are bad for me—fattening food, late nights, and loud and aggressive people head the list. I’m friends with myself, so I do things that are good for me, otherwise I couldn’t be good for others.

They [best dressed women] don’t want to look like their daughters. They want their own individual brand of chic. […] The cut and fit must be exactly right, and they are willing to spend hours in the fitting room to make sure of it. They spend money, too. But if any one of them went broke tomorrow she’d rather choose one perfectly cut expensive dress and make it do for years than buy a dozen cheap ones.

had I known at the time who Joan Crawford was, I would have said that she was giving us her very best Joan Crawford, an expression that mixed contempt and vulnerability as she took a long drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke from her lips so steadily that it created a miasma behind which her true feelings could hide.

Most of the bankers also felt that women are more emotional, leas stable than men. Not true! I think by nature a woman is more stable. Life gives her so many different things to cope with, and she learns almost from infancy to cope and not to let it show. A woman who has married and brought up children has had a thousand emergencies — illnesses, broken plumbing, appliances refusing to operate,the children’s naughtiness, her husband’s moods, the bills — and has trained herself to take them all astride.

You go to white movies and, like everybody else, you fall in love with Joan Crawford, and you root for the Good Guys who are killing off the Indians. It comes as a great psychological collision when you realize all of these things are really metaphors for your oppression, and will lead into a kind of psychological warfare in which you may perish

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell.

Love is a fire. But whether it's going to warm your heart or burn down your house, you can never tell.

surround myself with happy colors—yellow, coral, hot pink, and Mediterranean blues and greens.

The most beautiful clothes look awful draped over a shapeless from. And, conversely, a really good figure can wear a twenty-dollar dress with verve.

Bitterness and self-pity are deadly poisons that can’t be hidden. They seem to exude from the pores.

Scrubbing, for me, is the greatest exercise in the world. It gives me rosy cheeks, and I just have a ball.

Closets should be completely emptied twice a year. […] Then inspect every item in your wardrobe. Things you’re doubtful about are probably wrong. […] Give things away to someone they do compliment, or send them to charity or a thrift shop and resolve not to make the same mistake again. That old saw, 'When in doubt, don’t,' is never so true as when it comes to clothes. Or getting married.

If you think the dress is right for you, where are you going to wear it? Does it fit into the kind of life you lead? (If you live in the country, what are you doing with all those town suits and hostess pajamas?) Supposing the dress is all right. If so, what shoes do you wear with it? What hat, gloves? Handbag, jewelry? […] So many women fall in love with a dress, bring it home, and find absolutely nothing that will go with it.

Conquering fears, whatever they may be, opens life up—and this life should be as full of different experiences as we can make it. Too many women build fences around themselves, especially as they grow older. They limit themselves, or feel that life has limited them.

Always warm up to exercising. You can't suddenly jolt a stiff body into a rigorous workout. My doctor has told me that the best time to exercise is at the end of the day, before dinner, when the body is limber and a little fatigued. Begin slowly by swinging arms around in a circle. Do a little jogging in place. Get your circulation going to fuel your muscles. Do your exercises to music. […] As your body gets used to all this unexpected activity you can do each exercise just about as often and as long as you like. But start gently.

Charm isn't something you can turn on like a tap with a pretty little girl simper. It isn't anything phony that you can pick up at the door on your way out, along with your coat. You know, animals can spot a phony faster than most people. I mistrust people who don't like animals or understand them: how one dog can be snooty, one cat imperious, one dog beguiling, one cat sitting there quietly checking on you. Any wise little cat or dog knows at a glance whether your charm is real or manufactured for the occasion– and treats you accordingly.

Le Boucher, the early Claude Chabrol that Hitch, according to lore, wished he’d directed. Dark Passage, with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall—a San Francisco valentine, all velveteen with fog, and antecedent to any movie in which a character goes under the knife to disguise himself. Niagara, starring Marilyn Monroe; Charade, starring Audrey Hepburn; Sudden Fear!, starring Joan Crawford’s eyebrows. Wait Until Dark: Hepburn again, a blind woman stranded in her basement apartment. I’d go berserk in a basement apartment. Now, movies that postdate Hitch: The Vanishing, with its sucker-punch finale. Frantic, Polanski’s ode to the master. Side Effects, which begins as a Big Pharma screed before slithering like an eel into another genre altogether. Okay. Popular film misquotes. “Play it again, Sam”: Casablanca, allegedly, except neither Bogie nor Bergman ever said it. “He’s alive”: Frankenstein doesn’t gender his monster; cruelly, it’s just “It’s alive.” “Elementary, my dear Watson” does crop up in the first Holmes film of the talkie era, but appears nowhere in the Conan Doyle canon.

With taste, and a little study and ingenuity, any woman can have a perfectly lovely place. Lacking taste? Ask! Any good store will happily give you expert advice. If you can’t afford that, look—feel—observe. And your friends will be enchanted to tell you what to do. (Be sure they’re friends with beautiful homes.)

People who have good taste are bound to make a mistake now and then, because they’re human, and when they do it’s a horrendous one. It’s so ugly you can’t believe it. On the other hand people who have terrible taste are bound to make a mistake and buy something exquisite—and you can’t possibly understand how that could happen!

Men have great respect for a woman who can be both competent and attractive. Competence without charm can irritate some men. I think you should be appealing, but not in a phony way. It has to be part of your personality. If it isn’t, acquire it, and they’ll forgive your know-how. After all, men really love women more than they hate them!

Squeezing the most out of life takes a little executive planning. I used to say to the children when they were growing up, “If you have twelve things to do, and twelve hours to do them in, don’t spend the first ten hours doing just one thing or you’ll find yourself in an awful mess at the end of the day. Plan. And everything will get done.

Of course the other side of this coin is that many men like to cultivate hobbies that give them a chance to get off alone—gardening, stamp collecting, building something in the basement, for example. And that’s a cue to let him have his privacy. Just find out whether he wants to share an interest with you or go off like Walter Mitty and have extravagant daydreams in the carrot patch.

In a press interview at the time, Gable said, “My days of playing the dashing lover are over. I’m no longer believable in those parts. There has been considerable talk about older guys wooing and winning leading ladies half their age. I don’t think the public likes it, and I don’t care for it myself. It’s not realistic. Actresses that I started out with like Joan Crawford and Barbara Stanwyck have long since quit playing glamour girls and sweet young things. Now it’s time I acted my age. “Let’s be honest,” he continued. “It’s a character role, and I’ll be playing more of them. There’s a risk involved, of course. I have no idea if I can attain the success as a character actor as I did playing the dashing young lover, but it’s a chance I have to take. Not everybody is able to do it.

Women are lucky, I think, because they can get so much more variety into their lives than most men can. With a little organization a woman can excel as wife, homemaker, mother, career woman, and gracious hostess, be lovely to look at and to be with—and still have time left over to be a good friend to a lot of people. And a happy friend. Of course, we all have our problems. But I don’t inflict mine on my friends. At least I try not to.

EYE MAKEUP 1. Makeup should be just a frame for the eyes. When you lay on all the bright-colored goop and slather white under the brows the eyes themselves are lost in camouflage. Just accent whatever God has given you with a subtle hand. 2. The more makeup a woman applies after forty the older she looks. 3. Early in my career I had plucked and plucked so that I'd have those spindly little lines that were the fashion then. When eyebrows came back a lot of girls found that they couldn't grow them anymore. They's plucked out the roots. I encouraged new growth by using castor oil and yellow Vaseline - half and half - and rubbing it the wrong way, toward the nose, with a brush. I still use it, it makes my brows grow like mad. It's good for lashes, too, but I always get the oil in my eyes, then they water and turn red. Brows frame the eyes. Encourage them. for they're a great asset.

Females are born flirts. I’ve watched my three girls flirting almost from the time they were able to get their eyes opened and they could focus. They cooed at men, fluttered around them—and flattered them. But once girls get themselves married they forget the romance—and that’s when the flirting should really begin. If you want to keep your husband, that is. A lot of other women are flirting with him and flattering him—you can depend on that.

I've never been able to understand how anyone could stand measuring out half a cup of this and four ounces of that. If a woman has the time to do that she's not busy enough—and that may be why she's overweight! It's a lot easier just to buy the foods that are fairly low in calories and to cultivate a taste for them. And have a little of each kind of essential food during the course f a day. The operative word in that bit of advice is 'little.' Raw nibbles, bouillon, and dill pickles always stop the hunger pangs until the next small meal is served.

It’s commonplace to find people who look old at forty, or young at sixty. The reason isn’t the number of little wrinkles that may be sprouting, but in the way they use their bodies. 'Old' people have lost their flexibility. Their joints stiffen up from lack of use. Their capillaries constrict and less blood comes through to the tissues. That means the complexion is undernourished, too. And everything starts to taper off. When they stop moving vigorously they slow down mentally. They’re old in their minds even when they’re still on the happy side of middle age. And it shows!

1. Whenever you walk through a doorway at home, stop, press the palms of your hands flat against the top of the door frame, get up on your toes, then push up with your arms and try to get your heels back on the floor. But don't let them budge - you're pushing against the calf muscles and recontouring them. Hold it for few seconds and then go on about you chores. 2. Sit on a straight chair, point your toes out straight, and kick up as high as you can with each leg. You'll feel a healthy pull in the calf muscles. 3. After a few kicks, stand up on your toes and lower yourself very slowly to a squatting position, still keeping your weight on the balls of your feet. Then pull slowly up again. It’s fair to balance yourself lightly with your hands on the back of a chair if you have to. 4. Put a book on the floor and place the balls of your feet on the book and your heels on the floor. Raise yourself slowly until you’re on tiptoe on the book. Then lower yourself just as slowly. The thicker the book, the better the results/ These four exercises will slim down fat calves and build up thin ones. The point is that the muscles are being firmed, and no matter what your problem the result is lovelier legs.

I think a marvelous stunt would be to have your best friend (or the most critical acquaintance) take some candid color snapshots of you from all angles, dressed just as you usually appear at, say, six in the evening. The same hairdo, the same makeup, and if possible the same expression on your face. Be honest! Be sure to have her take the rear views, too. There ought to be some other shots of you wearing your best going-out-to-dinner dress, or your favorite bridge-with-the-girls costume — hat, gloves, bag, and costume jewelry. Everything. Then have that roll of film developed and BLOWN UP. You can’t see much in a tiny snapshot. An eight-by-ten will show you the works — and you probably won’t be very happy with it. Sit down and take a long look at that strange woman. Is she today’s with-it person — elegant, poised, groomed, glowing with health? Or is she a plump copy of Miss 1950? Is she sleek, or bumpy in the wrong places? How is her posture? Does she look better from the front than from the back? Does she stand gracefully? […] Feet together or one slightly in front of the other, is the most graceful stance. […] I always pin my bad notices on my mirror. How about keeping those eight-by-ten candid shots around your dressing room for a while as you dress?

In many marriages it can be the woman’s privilege to bring new interests into her husband’s life. A man can become completely absorbed in business, or he may have had to neglect other things in the struggle to get ahead. Get him interested in the new book you’ve brought home—a good one! Hang some good reproductions on the walls or, if your taste is sure, find interesting originals. Buy some good recordings and just let them seep in. Grown men don’t like the feeling that they’re being taught, but things can filter in. Finally, enjoying something first-rate together is the most satisfying experience anyone can have—be it sex or a symphony, it’s good and it’s shared.

A well-known skin specialist patronized by many famous beauties charges seventy-five dollars for a twenty-minute consultation and eight dollars for a cake of sea-mud soap. I get more satisfaction and just as much benefit out of applying a purée of apples and sour cream! [...] Of course, all masques should COVER THE NECK too. [...] Masques should only be used ones or twice a week. [...] While the masque is working, place pads soaked in witch hazel or boric acid over your eyelids and put on your favorite music. [...] A masque really works only when you're lying down. Twenty minutes is the right length of time. Then wash the masque off gently with warm water and follow with a brisk splash of cold water to close the pores. [...] For a luxurious once-a-week treatment give your face a herbal steaming first by putting parsley, dill, or any other favorite herb into a pan of boiling water. (Mint is refreshing too.) Hold a towel over your head to keep the steam rising onto your face. The pores will open so that the masque can do a better job. [...] Here are a few "kitchen masques" that work: MAYONNAISE. [...] Since I'm never sure what they put into those jars at the supermarket, I make my own with whole eggs, olive or peanut oil, and lemon juice (Omit the salt and pepper!). Stir this until it's well blended, or whip up a batch in an electric blender. PUREED VEGETABLES - cucumbers, lemons, or lettuce thickened with a little baby powder. PUREED FRUITS - cantaloupe, bananas, or strawberries mixed to a paste with milk or sour cream or honey. A FAMOUS OLD-FASHIONED MIXTURE of oatmeal, warm water, and a little honey blended to a paste.

Marlboro Man and I walked together to our vehicles--symbolically parked side by side in the hotel lot under a cluster of redbud trees. Sleepiness had definitely set in; my head fell on his shoulder as we walked. His ample arms gripped my waist reassuringly. And the second we reached my silver Camry, the temperature began to rise. “I can’t wait till tomorrow,” he said, backing me against the door of my car, his lips moving toward my neck. Every nerve receptor in my body simultaneously fired as his strong hands gripped the small of my back; my hands pulled him closer and closer. We kissed and kissed some more in the hotel parking lot, flirting dangerously with taking it a step--or five--further. Out-of-control prairie fires were breaking out inside my body; even my knees felt hot. I couldn’t believe this man, this Adonis who held me so completely and passionately in his arms, was actually mine. That in a mere twenty-four hours, I’d have him all to myself. It’s too good to be true, I thought as my right leg wrapped around his left and my fingers squeezed his chiseled bicep. It was as if I’d been locked inside a chocolate shop that also sold delicious chardonnay and french fries…and played Gone With the Wind and Joan Crawford movies all day long--and had been told “Have fun.” He was going to be my own private playground for the rest of my life. I almost felt guilty, like I was taking something away from the world. It was so dark outside, I forgot where I was. I had no sense of geography or time or space, not even when he took my face in his hands and touched his forehead to mine, closing his eyes, as if to savor the powerful moment. “I love you,” he whispered as I died right there on the spot. It wasn’t convenient, my dying the night before my wedding. I didn’t know how my mom was going to explain it to the florist. But she’d have to; I was totally done for. I’d had half a glass of wine all evening but felt completely inebriated. When I finally arrived home, I had no idea how I’d gotten there. I was intoxicated--drunk on a cowboy. A cowboy who, in less than twenty-four hours, would become my husband.

1. Start with your base. Bases come in convenient stick form, but I prefer a liquid one. A sallow skin need a pinkish tone. For a ruddy complexion, beige is flattering. Smooth the base right up to the hairline (you can always wipe spots off the hair with a tissue later) and blend it around the ears, on the earlobe, and down over the neck. 2. If your face is very round, smooth a darker shade at the sides, below the cheekbone, to narrow it. If your nose is too long, put the darker shade at the tip, and at the sides of the nostrils,. There are a number of possibilities depending on your bone structure. 3. A lighter shade will bring out receding features. [...]Use pale pink just under the brow and under the brow and under the eyes to bring out deep-set eyes. I don't use white under my brows because my bone structure doesn't lend itself to that. [...] I hate to see girls with TOO much white under the brow - or too much eye makeup of any kind, for that matter. If the forehead protrudes they shouldn't use the white under the brows at all. It exaggerates it. And if they have a tendency to be puffy - and everybody has puffy days - they look worse with great white blobs under the eyes. 4. The important thing about shading and contouring is to blend so carefully that you can never see where one shade ends and the other begins. 5. So start with three shades of base for the redesigning, plus white if you need it. Add a blusher that you brush on with a large soft brush made for the purpose. I like a brownish shade. It matches my natural complexion and I brush it on under my cheekbones to accent my bone structure. But a very fair skin could use a bluish pink blusher... 5. Translucent powder goes on next. It must be translucent or your careful job of shading will be covered over. And not too much. Just light dusting of it to cover the shine... 6. After powdering, take a tissue and BLOT. Then clothes won't get soiled. 7. I put on the lipstick and smooth it over with my finger - I never rub my lips together. Then I outline the lips carefully with a lipstick pencil. I never use a brush. Then BLOT. There's nothing uglier than lipstick on the teeth.

Sunday brunch is an easy, pleasant way to entertain a largish group, especially in the country. Americans who overslept invented the word brunch, but the ingredients and the casual atmosphere bear a strong resemblance to breakfast in an English country house or to a French midnight supper. The choice of menu can be as wide as the imagination. Practically anything goes — from hearty breakfast dishes such as filled omelettes, kidneys, chicken livers and bacon, sausages, and eggs Benedict. Something pretty in aspic, or a salmon mousse in a fish-shaped mold, makes a lovely centerpiece. Best of all, most of the meal can be prepared way ahead of time and it can be managed without outside help — if, that is, the hostess puts in a lot of work the day before and early that morning. People can wander in when they feel like it, so there’s no need to tint this one. Drinks are no problem. A big punch bowl with chunks of fresh fruit makes a nice starter, and mixings for bloody Marys, screwdrivers, or bullshots can be left on a table for guests to serve themselves. Of course there should be a big pot of very good coffee.

NOURISH YOUR HAIR: 1. There are a number of 'kitchen recipes' for feeding hair. It needs the contents of your refrigerator just as much as your skin does. Right back to mayonnaise! Olive oil, eggs, and lemon juice. Massage the mixture into your hair, let it stay on for ten or fifteen minutes, then rinse it off with cool water. Cool - or you'll have scrambled eggs on your head. 2. For years I washed my daughter' hair with raw eggs, never soap or shampoo. I wet their hair fist and then rubbed in six whole eggs, one by one - a trick I learned from Katherine. Hepburn. (Four eggs will do for short hair, but theirs was long.) Some people use eggs beaten up with a jigger of rum; others mix an egg with red wine. 3. Hot oils is good for dry hair. Apply it with the fingertips and then wrap your head in a warm towel. Keep changing the oil for an hour, to keep it hot and penetrating. Then shampoo. 4. I believe in brushing. I made my girls give their hair the old-fashioned hundred strokes every night, using two brushes, and bending forward from the waist. It stimulates hair grows, and the rush of blood to the face is an added benefit. I pull my hair gently to encourage growth too.

There were giants striding the screen in the 1930s and ’40s: four actresses so talented, hardworking and versatile that they became laws unto themselves. Joan Crawford and Bette Davis have also become high-camp figures of fun, as they both had such wildly theatrical offscreen lives, and their performances could sometimes veer into self-parody. But Barbara Stanwyck and Claudette Colbert stand the test of time in each and every film: our memories of them are not overshadowed by scandals or vituperative daughters. One rarely sees a Stanwyck or Colbert drag queen. But these ladies were fully the equal—sometimes the superior—of Davis and Crawford.

Titled by year, Good News of 1939, 1940 became Maxwell House Coffee Time to begin the 1940–41 season, though the Good News title was still used for a few broadcasts. Maxwell House Coffee. CAST: Hosts: James Stewart, 1937; Robert Taylor, early to mid-1938; Robert Young, beginning in fall 1938; various hosts, 1939–40; Dick Powell, ca. 1940. Frank Morgan, resident comic. Fanny Brice as Baby Snooks beginning Dec. 23, 1937. Hanley Stafford as Daddy. Also many MGM film stars including Judy Garland, Joan Crawford, Mickey Rooney, Alice Faye, Spencer Tracy, Lionel Barrymore, Clark Gable,

You have to live with a painting as you do with a lover. It’s that personal. You might want to change lovers. You might want to rearrange your paintings. That’s the way it should be.

The best parties are a wild mixture. Take some corporation presidents, add a few lovely young actresses, a bearded painter, a professional jockey, your visiting friends from Brussels, a politician, a hairdresser, and a professor of physics, toss them all together, and try to get them to stop talking long enough to eat! It’s especially important to have all age groups. I’ve never noticed any generation gap. Of course I wouldn’t want to have hippies come crawling in with unwashed feet, but all the younger people I know are bright and attractive and have something to say. They also dress like human beings. They love to listen, too. They make wonderful guests.

When he came home I was well groomed, fragrant, feminine. He never saw a laundry bag, a dust cloth, or a hair curler. I hope he never knew that such things existed!

Often Alfred’s meetings began again at six. Two or more business associates would come and closet themselves in the study for almost an hour. Sometimes I’d join them, bringing in a tea tray and a few things to munch on—because no man with low blood sugar ever comes to a happy agreement about anything. With either tea or cocktails I like to give a busy man something hearty, like slices of salami or sausage. Or peanut butter and bacon on black bread slipped under the grill until it sizzles.

It’s not easy at all to run a house—small or, as in my case, large as it was then-give the children all the attention they should have, adjust to day-to-day crises, and be cool, collected, and captivating at six o’clock. Not only must the children and the housekeeping be dealt with and finished, the wife should also emerge at that hour “finished”—in the sense that she has all her beauty treatments behind her and is groomed, fragrant, and looking ready for an evening with her favorite beau.

We have reached a censorship barrier in Infidelity, to our infinite disappointment. It won’t be Joan’s [Joan Crawford's] next picture and we are setting it aside awhile till we can think of a way of halfwitting halfwit Hayes and his legion of decency. Pictures needed cleaning up in 1932-33...but because they were suggestive and salacious. Of course the moralists now want to apply that to all strong themes—so the crop of the last two years is feeble and false, unless it deals with children.

LESLIE CARON: Joan Crawford is not a great actress. She is a great star.

I pictured Joan Crawford, that scale of face: dramatic, brutal, compelling.

To the world I may be Joan Crawford, but to my children I am 'Mommie Dearest,' and those two words mean everything to me," Crawford said in 1943 to Motion Picture magazine. "I

The story told, true or fabled, was that Rock was back in the pool house, taking a shower, when the lights went out. Suddenly he felt the warm, naked body of Joan Crawford beside him. "Sssh, baby," she whispered, "close your eyes and pretend I'm Clark Gable.*4

(Years later Adrian would confess that the padded shoulders also helped to distract attention from another Crawford liability, her big hips. "To offset her womanly hips, I developed the idea of broad shoulders," the designer told Womens Wear Daily.)

Cooper caught a break with a featured role as a doomed aviator in Wings (1927), but Walter remained on the periphery, observing the unwritten rule that extras did not consort with stars, yet taking pride in work that reinforced the function of character actors. As character actress Beulah Bondi said, “We are the mortar between the bricks.” For Walter Brennan, it was enough to know that a chosen few—Joan Crawford, Norma Shearer, Gary Cooper, Clark Gable—began as extras and ended as stars. For a television documentary, the actor Richard Arlen, one of the stars of Wings, was asked what Walter Brennan was like in these early days as an extra. “He was not too unlike Gary Cooper in his mannerisms in those days. A slow way of talking—very much like Will Rogers,” said Arlen. “Walter sounded very much like he does today. Very dry and one of the nicest men I’ve known.

March 3: Associated Press columnist Bob Thomas reports Joan Crawford’s comments on Monroe’s appearance at a Photoplay awards dinner: “It was like a burlesque show. Someone should make her see the light; she should be told that the public likes provocative personalities but it also likes to know that underneath it all the actresses are ladies.” Marilyn replies via Louella Parsons’s column in the Herald Examiner: “What hurts me more is what Miss Crawford said, is that I have always admired her to be such a wonderful mother—to have adopted 4 children and have given them a family. I’m well-placed to know what it means not to have a house when you’re a child.

Primer of Love [Lesson 66] Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell. ~ Joan Crawford Lesson 66) Sure love is a gamble -- but it's better to lose than never spin the wheel. [Carnival barker] "Ladies and gentlemen. Line right up and place your wager. You don't need money or chips - just take your heart, tear it free, and place it upon the number of your choosing. Then spin our fickle wheel of fortune. Round and round it goes, it spins, it spins and where it lands nobody knows. You may have the payoff of a lifetime. Or maybe, you'll wind up with a broken heart with a stent, a pacemaker and a percutaneous transluminal coronary angioplasty. Take ask me for my 'professional opinion.' I just take bets that favor the house.

February 9: Gladys enters Rockhaven Sanitarium. Marilyn pays $250 a month to support her mother. Marilyn is honored as “A Rising Star” at the Photoplay Awards Dinner at the Crystal Room of the Beverly Hills Hotel. Sidney Skolsky accompanies her after Joe DiMaggio refuses to do so. Her gold lamé dress causes a sensation. Columnist Florabel Muir writes that the dress seems painted onto Marilyn’s body and is so striking (photographs of it are often reproduced) that Joan Crawford and Lana Turner were hardly noticed at the event.

It was Ernie Haller, who had photographed Bette Davis in Jezebel and Vivien Leigh in Gone with the Wind, who was solely responsible for the visuals in Mildred Pierce, said Crawford. "Ernie was at the rehearsals. And so was Mr. [Anton] de Grot, who did the sets. I recall seeing Ernie's copy of the script and it was filled with notations and diagrams. I asked him if these were for special lights and he said, 'No, they're for special shadows.' Now, that threw me. I was a little apprehensive. I was used to the look of Metro, where everything, including the war pictures, was filmed in blazing white lights. Even if a person was dying there was no darkness. But when I saw the rushes of Mildred Pierce I realized what Ernie was doing. The shadows and half-lights, the way the sets were lit, together with the unusual angles of the camera, added considerably to the psychology of my character and to the mood and psychology of the film. And that, my dear, is film noir." "Mildred

You're right, dear," said Joan, "I do want you to suffer. I want you to struggle and fear and worry the way I did. I want you to fight every step of the way, because when you suffer you don't forget. That's what it takes to become an actress, a star, something great; and not just a personality." Crawford's

That evening I went over to Metro and found this long platinum-blond wig. I took it home and styled it, with curls and ringlets at the nape of the neck. The next day I brought it to Bette. She put it on, looked in the mirror, and in a loud voice said, 'It's the NUTS! I love it!' She wore it through the entire picture, and she never knew that it was an old wig of Joan's—one that Miss Crawford wore in an early M-G-M movie." Norma

Cooper would also, inadvertently, bestow something on Joan. At home, he adored his mother and used to call her "Mommie Dearest." Inspired, Crawford would soon confer the title on herself.

[joan crawford] slept with every male star at MGM, except lassie. [joan crawford] ha dormito con ogni star maschile della MGM, eccetto lassie.

Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.” Joan Crawford

I have turned to work again and again over the years as an antidote to the pains of life. Work is the best alleviator of sorrow I know, and once again, it is standing me in good stead. So I will work--and cry on my own time.

If you want the girl next door, go next door.

I almost had to marry Joan Crawford to get out of that one.

There should always be a precious time together at the end of the working day. Turn off the phone, ignore the door, pour a glass of wine or fruit juice. Shed the world and learn about each other in your own romantic oasis.

Make your husband talk about his work. Drag it out of him, if you have to. But, you’re saying, my husband’s a cashier. How can I take an interest in that? Well, for openers, you might say, “Any holdups today?” And go on to find out what keeping books is all about. What an auditor is. Follow changes in tax laws in the daily newspaper. You might even find all this fascinating. He has to.

A busy housewife might ask, but why should I go to all this trouble for the guy? To me, and to other women I’ve talked to, the answer’s simple: You love him and you want to please him, make him happy. Love can spring out of a need for security—not financial security, but the security of being wanted, adored. That’s why women can give so much. When we’re needed we become dynamos, and we’re always looking for ways to please, do something special, serve something the man loves that we can’t afford, that he only gets at an occasional party on a canapé.

Alfred promised me that he would do just that—work for four weeks and on the fifth take a complete rest. That’s the only way to arrange it because a man who’s deeply involved can’t shorten his work day very easily but he can organize a complete break. Unhappily, Alfred didn’t do this. That’s why he died.

But there are always the office parties, and wives should make a point of attending them, reaching out to the people they meet there, and forming new friendships. As for the boss, it would be a good thing to go up to him and thank him for being so nice to your husband. After you leave he’ll probably say, “What a charming woman! Who’s her husband?” And he’ll be nice from then on in, even if he wasn’t before. That’s being protective. It’s being involved.

I never regaled him with an account of what the children had done, the lateness of deliveries because of traffic, or the neighborhood gossip (unless it was a particularly juicy bit!). There’s nothing less stimulating for a man than the day-to-day business of raising four children. That’s woman’s work. If she’s lucky she revels in it. If not, she gets it done anyhow, and in the time allotted for it.

My most important rule is: Never put anything back soiled. Things get hung up at night, but first thing in the morning I bring them out in daylight to see if there’s a water spot, a grease spot, a smudge.

A busy woman can’t spend whole days in front of mirrors, but she ought to have them all over the house (which improves the décor, too) and make a point of glancing at herself every time she passes one. It’s a form of narcissism that pays off. If you are pleased with what you see, chances are he will be, too.

START WITH A CLEAN SKIN: For removing ordinary street makeup I use a good cleansing cream, and I have a set of brushes—soft, medium, and heavy—that I plug into an electric outlet so that they vibrate. They work the cream into the pores and generally stimulate the skin, bringing the blood to the surface—the skin's best nourishment. If your brushes don't plug in it doesn't matter. Just use elbow grease (good exercise for the arms) and you'll get the same results. I make sure that I get at all the ears, and down to wherever my dress began... Then I quickly apply a moisture cream.

Treat your neck the same way you do your face.

Food! I say 'No, thank you' to many lovely things every day. Recently I admired the slim figure of a magazine editor. 'That’s your formula?' I asked her. 'I starve,' she sighed. 'I’m the hungriest woman in New York.

If a woman can earn money to buy lovely things while she’s young, she should have the privilege. I know a woman who said once, 'I’ve worked all my life. And now that I can afford to buy myself diamonds, my hands are too old.' This woman was only forty-eight or fifty but she had work hands, ugly hands, that were no fit background for the beautiful big diamond she had just bought. The same thing goes for lovely clothes. A woman should have them, if she can earn them, while she’s young, straight, graceful, slim, and can show them off like an angel.

They [Joan’s adopted twin daughters] tell people they had a marvelous childhood. I hope they did. I tried to give them that — because it’s really all that a patent can do. A parent has to guide, advise, educate, and love them. If they’re sure of the love, they’ll accept the guidance. I think that children benefit in all sorts of ways when they have mothers who have their own fascinating jobs. It’s good for them to know that mother is involved in other things besides smothering them with love. They respect that. When children are neglected it’s usually because their mothers are so bored and discontent that they fill their days with golf, bridge, and matinees and live the children to fend for themselves. A working woman loves coming home and making special time for her children. But few husbands understand the full range of her responsibilities.