See the rest at one of my favorite sites, Vintage Fashion Magazines.
(Back when The East Village was the Lower East Side. The Dom later became a community center and now is gone. Baby Jane H smartly went into the family real estate business as well as collecting art and producing some films. Here’s a nifty little guide to Miami that she penned. Me? I lived on 11th and 2nd and spent regular Wednesday nites at the Dom, but that’s a whole other story.)
Look at beautiful little Baby J and his precious blond curls! And his cherubic cousin, John the Baptist. I shudder to think of what would happen to that gorgeous head of hair!
I don’t know how Mary stays so relaxed and glamorous with two kids on her lap. Speaking of Baby J, it’s been far too long since I searched one of my favorite Ebay terms, “Baby Jesus.”
Oh good heavens: “Vintage Large Molded Latex Baby Jesus”
“Vintage” “Old”
Don’t get any funny ideas about using this one outside during the holidays:
Back of manger is marked “Artistic Latex Co., Form Co., Inc NY.” I was told that these were used in stores to display during the holidays and were for indoor use.
Artistic Latex!
“Isabel Bloom Nativity Baby Jesus Retired Signed”
Oh! The horror! Jesus is far too young to retire, or sign his name. Obviously a fake.
But you ain’t seen nothing yet. My mind is in smithereens over this “Vintage style” concotion, where Baby J seems to have gone fully to “the other side” before taking a trip to India:
“Unbeatable A Master piece! Hand Made and Hand Painted!! We get only one statue in a week from manufacture. Please pay ASAP. Part of the profit goes to charity and humanitarian work. Please do not hurt our ministry by deceive us. The items are religious and ritual purpose. Please be honest with us. We are try hard to support a Christian ministry.”
This one reminds me of Bette Davis in “The Virgin Queen”:
Why do I do this to myself?
12:30 PM Girl Said No, The (1930)
A college sports star surprises everyone with his money-making schemes (by coming out of the closet as a successful Hollywood interior designer?).
Cast: William Haines, Leila Hyams, Marie Dressler. Dir: Sam Wood.
2:15 PM Let Us Be Gay (1930) ’nuff said.
A visit to Paris brings divorced spouses back together.
Cast: Norma Shearer, Rod La Rocque*, Marie Dressler. Dir: Robert Z. Leonard**
Think that’s gay? He was born Rodrique la Rocque de la Rour!
**former husband of Lethal Hall of Famer Mae Murray!
3:45 PM Reducing (1931) (!!!)
A beauty-parlor manager brings in an old friend to help her with disastrous results.
Cast: Marie Dressler, Polly Moran, Anita Page. Dir: Charles F. Reisner.
We had an earthquake here today. Sadly, I didn’t have enough time to
run around and act like Ava Gardner , although I’m not
sure if I’d want to be Ava at that point.
Have a listen to DaWillys: “Earthquake”!
Speaking of Our Miss G, I found out I have family in Malaysia:
WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Tree shrews that thrive on fermented nectar
suck up amounts that would inebriate a human but seem to have no such
ill-effects themselves, researchers reported on Monday.They said their findings may shed light on how animals evolved a taste
for alcohol and may help in understanding why so many humans abuse it.The tree shrew, found in Malaysia, is very similar to the last common
ancestor of all living primates — a group that includes people — and
it could be that the human taste for alcohol evolved millions of years
ago, the researchers reported in the Proceedings of the National
Academy of Sciences.“For humans alcohol consumption often has devastating consequences,”
Frank Wiens of Bayreuth University in Germany and colleagues wrote.“We discovered that seven mammalian species in a West Malaysian
rainforest consume alcoholic nectar daily from flower buds of the
bertam palm (Eugeissona tristis), which they pollinate,” they added.The flower buds of the palm collect yeast, which ferments the nectar,
they said. “The 3.8 percent maximum alcohol concentration that we
recorded is among the highest ever reported in a natural food.”The amount they sip would cause drunkenness if a human drank the
equivalent, they said.“Yet, the flower-visiting mammals showed no signs of intoxication,” they wrote.
They plan further study to find out how the shrews’ bodies cope with
constant alcohol intake with no apparent bad effects.
I’ve been having some odd Desi Arnaz coincidences. First, a pal sent me pix of Lucie Arnaz and her kids. Then, a coworker was telling me how her Dad met Desi at a party at Jack Warner’s. Now, I’m on vacation in Palm Springs (yes, I was on the corner of Frank Sinatra and Bob Hope Drives, but it’s hard to take a pic while driving, and these people drive like maniacs out here, I’m not joking!) I’m not much of a low-desert gal but it’s the only time of the year that I can afford to go to a super swanky spa. It’s like 8 1/2, well, not really, because there’s no Marcello Mastroianni and certainly no bishops. But I wander around in my robe and slippers in between “treatments” and the occasional venture out to the supermarket, where I chat with older, thin blonde women with more casual diamonds on their hands than I’ll ever have (well, never say never.)
But back to Desi. Desi Arnaz built the first resort in Indian Wells, the Desi Arnaz West Hills Hotel. Indian Wells now has the highest percentage of millionaires in the US. It’s like the capital of Mr. Burnses. Go babalu! I love that Desi called his autobio “A Book.”
I love Ricky!
From “Paris When It Sizzles” - my favorite Bill Holden* era.
*aka “my dead boyfriend.”
but GARY! Oldman, that is - the newest Hunky Dory in our Four Eyed Fan Club!
I even bought a pair just to have a little fun — and I don’t even need glasses. Well, it’s not quite the same.
Today I had a great conversation w/Rod McKuen, who was drinking a diet red bull. He said to me, “Costco is my favorite place!”
I never thought I’d have the chance to tell McKuen (or Richard Hell for that matter, even though he lived in my NY neighborhood) this story … but I got my chance! “In high school, I used to turn in song lyrics to my creative writing class and see who’d get better grades. I turned in this song, ‘Blank Generation’ (he nodded and pointed - he knew it!) and my teacher said, “Donna! I’m impressed, you’ve taken Rod McKuen to a different level!’ and I had no idea who ‘Rod McKuen’ was!” He CRACKED up. “Beat Generation!” He laughed even more when I told him I was from Lowell, MA … for your beat studies, that’s Jack Kerouac’s hometown. And the high school where I turned in such a work of staggering genius was the same where Mr. K played on the football team.
Look! You can listen to Bob McFadden and Dor (guess who?) and watch the Brunswick 45 spin around:
and here’s Son of the Mummy:
