Kept Woman Wednesday: The Girl Can't Help It (1956)

I was a tad frustrated to discover that Turner Classic Movies’ star of the month is…blondes. Huh? I think it does a real disservice to blondes. Judy Holliday is nothing like Doris Day is nothing like Jayne Mansfield, and yet they’re all huddled together by their hair color.

Conceptually, I’m opposed. Trust me, TCM, I think Betty Grable could handle a month all to herself. But, in terms of scheduling, Wednesday has never looked so good. Tonight, it’s a Marilyn and Jayne film festival, which includes “The Girl Can’t Help It.” Anything I could possible describe is joyously detailed in this video tribute from John Waters.

What earns elaboration is Jayne’s relationship with the press. In this video, John Waters describes her as the “parody of Marilyn Monroe…an insane Marilyn,” persona that she controlled. As John says, “Anyone that has a bar that is open 8 hours in their house -- for the press– which she did have – is a girl after my own heart.”

I’m really pleased that a Jayne Mansfield movie is scheduled this week, because I was going to post about her anyway. In another John Waters interview I’ve seen, he describes how Jayne would alert the photographers prior to strolling down Hollywood Boulevard in a bikini with a Chihuahua under her arm.

Jayne seemed to say “don’t let’s be subtle about this whole fame thing.” Which is why this photog encounter with Katherine Heigl seemed so desperate in nature. She certainly looks classy – but don’t let that Rachel Zoe ensemble fool you – it’s ol’ Katherine’s version of Jayne’s beachwear. It seems to humorlessly bellow "please look at me!" This is quite different from Jayne, not only in yardage, but because it's like John Waters says, "How can it be pitful if you're in on the joke?" Maybe someone could give Katherine a hint.

(Katherine Heigl photo credit goes to one of these three: PacificCoastNews, Flynetpictures, style.com)

Kept Woman Wednesday: "Mr. and Mrs. North" (1942)

Gracie shopping with her daughter, Sandra. I'm jealous.

George Burns and Gracie Allen aren’t really known for their movies (though conquering three entertainment mediums – TV, radio, stage – was certainly adequate). Today TCM is showing “Mr. and Mrs. North,” (1942) a comedy with Gracie Allen, which I haven’t seen but would plan to if my day permitted (maybe just a long lunch: 68 minutes?!). Of the handful of Burns & Allen movies, “A Damsel in Distress,” (1937) has some especially cute wordplay and cute Fred Astaire. Though don’t plan on deciphering any utterance from the adolescent eavesdropper character (you’ll see).

Did you know that Gracie Allen is one of my style icons? I adore her. When I was little, I would imagine the two of us shopping at Saks together. Just today, my sister asked me what I'd do if vacationing in Los Angeles. My real, true first thought: visit Forest Lawn Cemetery, where Gracie is interred, and take her flowers, like George used to do. I guess, in effect, I’d be taking flowers to George as well. Anyway, that’s first on my list. Then Disneyland.

The the ripe ol' age of ten, I became obsessed with vaudevillians and the early years of television. Inspired by George’s Gracie: A Love Story, I dreamed of Beverly Hills parties spent rallied ‘round the piano at Jack Benny’s house in the company of Mary Livingstone, George, Gracie, Eddie Cantor, Georgie Jessel. To me, they all seemed like great friends. And I didn’t have too many of those.

Gracie was blithe, kind and clever. She was adorable and well dressed – and maybe the first to impress upon me that style wasn’t just for, you know, them. Gracie loved beautiful clothes. If fashion was for a five foot funny lady with a squeaky voice, the maybe it could be for me, too (who had far greater sartorial inadequacies).

Here's what Gracie taught me about style:
Accessories: To avoid being over-dressed: before leaving the house, Gracie would look in the mirror and remove one accessory. I know, I know that this advice is often attributed to Coco Chanel, but I first learned it from Gracie. (Anecdote from George in Gracie: A Love Story.)
Furs: Fur instant glamour: A source alludes me, but George once said that Gracie "had furs from animals I've never even heard of." I, too, love furs. So taboo! I usually reason that if an animal would have died a natural death prior to my birth -- I'm off the hook because I wasn't around to protest it's inhumane death. (Would you like to know more about Persian Lamb? Yuck yuck ick!)
A Confidante: For the latest trends: Tony Curtis's The Making of 'Some Like it Hot' describes one of my favorite Hollywood friendships: "Orry-Kelly was constantly on the phone, talking to some woman. I assumed he was gay, so that didn’t figure. I later learned that he was talking to Gracie Allen. They were thick at thieves. Even though she’d retired, she wanted to hear all the gossip." Orry-Kelly could definitely shop at Saks with us. Don't know Orry-Kelly? Fix that.

A lively sense of humor is rather winsome, too:

Kept Woman Wednesday: Tammy and the Bachelor (1957)

Meet Barbara.

You know the type. Like the Baroness or The Parent Trap’s Vicki. She’s the austere trophy intercepting the affection meant for a pluckier rival. In the case of Mala (m’lah? Mahhh-la?) Powers in "Tammy and the Bachelor," her Barbara isn’t your standard model. No, she also disparages the agricultural ambitions of her beau, twentieth-century southern gentleman, Pete. This helps us understand that Barbara is an especially poor pairing for Pete, who hopes to make his family's plantation sustanable again through tomato farming. Oh, Pete…strong, handsome, kind, oh my god, that’s Leslie Nielsen, Pete.

If you're unfamiliar with this film, acquaint yourself here, then return.

Barbara is a great foil for Tammy Tyree, enhancing the classic fish-out-of-water plotline. Compared to “childish Tammy,” Barbara possesses impeccably tailored and flared suits, polished coiffure and a clipped tone. I suspect that it was fun to portray Barbara. Mahhhh-la!

Rope belt!

Once I dreamed that Debbie Reynolds gave me the lush blue gown Barbara wears in the Pilgrimage Ball scenes. Even though I would rather have Tammy’s green gingham pinafore dress, I was ecstatic and didn’t suggest a trade.

That dream-couture benefactress is the real reason "Tammy and the Bachelor" endures so. Debbie Reyonds as Tammy. She's so pretty and breezy. Even a couple "Tammy! I'm so embarrassed for you right now!" moments are negated by her absolute charm. Maybe it's the denim clamdiggers tied with a rope, or the backwoodsy vocabulary (see: jostling board), or that she has an unexpected facility with historically-based monologues. It endears! It enchants!

There's about a day's worth of movies I could watch at any given moment, any mood, and circumstance. The interesting thing is that these films are not even necessarily in my top ten favorite list. "Tammy and the Bachelor" makes rank with both distinctions. Coincidentally, the only other film to do so is "Postcards from the Edge." ...I know.

Like so many hours spent with Turner Classic Movies before tonight, I would spend my Kept Woman Wednesday thoroughly amused by, and sort of in love with, "Tammy and the Bachelor." (Especially the Bachelor. You guys: Leslie Nielsen).

Emphasis on the bachelor.