Subject: ROBERTS' RULES: DISH
From: [email-masked]
Date: Tue, 25 Mar 1997 18:11:05 +0000

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ROBERTS' RULES
by Shelly Roberts

 Nostalgia IS What It Used To Be.

Now that being out is as practically natural as, oh, say, acupuncture,
I'm hearing an odd nostalgia for some good old days we've worked darn
hard to shed. The days of being a secret "Jo-sent-me" society, when
butches were men, and femmes were women. (An odd time to be nostalgic
for, I have to tell you.) 

And most of the sighing is coming from women who weren't there in the
first place. Odd, Girls.

There is a lately longing for the mystic, and the mystery. The grand
allure, and probably, frankly, the implied sexuality of good old days,
which, I hasten to remind you, also included raids, jailings, lying,
beatings and insane asylums, (they certainly were), electro shock
cures, public humiliation, ruination, and, if you read all the books,
great sex.

Hmmm. Maybe there's the key to all the retrospecting. And the glamour.

I can't say I'm personally all that hungry to go back to the days of
terror and theorizing. But, now that everybody knows everybody else's
business as a matter of public policy and political correctness, I
will agree that there is one great nostalgia game I do miss. "Is she,
or isn't she?"

Oh, not the in-the-office stuff that is a matter of ordinary course
today, as everyone shops for next lovers or new friends. I mean the
real old fashioned movie queen variety. Star-studded stuff that you
could dream on. Staring small at a big silver screen. At dames with
fifteen foot faces. And in your secret heart of hearts, well, a girl
could dream, couldn't she. Close her eyes and pretend that it wasn't
Cary, but Mary wooing the fabulous Goldyn Girls.

Attention K-mart shoppers: Axel Madsen to the rescue. In his
definitive (?) book, The Sewing Circle, Hollywood's Greatest Secret:
Female Stars who loved other women, he can still set your heart
aflutter, and your queries to rest. In the interest of keeping lesbian
herstory alive, Axel provides the horse's mouth on some star quality
lesbians from an era that could have had these women on suicide watch
if we'd only known then what he is willing to share now.

Sick and tired of waiting for Jody? Since the book is remaindered, and
hard to find, let me steal some of his scene, and fill you in on the
oldies but goodies. It's old dish, but still tasty:

Garbo. Vat was the question.? Her most famous line, "I vant to be
alone." According to Madsen really translates as "I don't vant to be
found out." Ms. Garbo was not singularly affectionate, but
preferentially, she was one of ours.

Eva Le Gallienne, the darling of Broadway, was also the darling of
several she's in the sewing set.

Marlene Dietrich was also a boy-girl-boy-girl-girl-girl-boy kind of
gal. No surprise. Conveniently married to a man who mostly stayed
away, and came with his lovers to visit.

Joan Crawford was indeed someone's dearest. According to legend,
probably everyone's. Though she crossed over frequently, sweet young
things were her specialty. (Call her "Billie" if you want to sound
like you "knew" the lady.

Barbara Stanwyck? Her best friends in Hollywood were Dietrich and
Crawford. Hmmmm. Rumor was that she tried to seduce Bette Davis.
(double hmmmmm.) And she did marry (wink wink) Robert Taylor.

Myrna Loy, along with Crawford and Stanwyck, were referred to in
inside Hollywood as the "Gilette Blades" for cutting both ways.

A name your might not have suspected, or if you're an Xer, even known:
Katherine Cornnell, star of stage, screen and closet.

Not to mention (or forget) Tallulah Bankhead, Daaahling (in a very
deep voice).

And then there's Kate. Oh, Kate. Miss Hepburn to us all. From ages
nine to thirteen, Kit shaved her head and called herself Jimmy.
Margaret Sullavan, Kate's agent, Leland Hayward's third wife, called
her, according to Madsen, "that dikey bitch." She was inseparable with
certain of her women companions. What about Spencer? Unavailable men
are soooo convenient, aren't they. These were the real nature denying
days, remember.

This used to be such a fun game.

Edith Head called her eight Oscars "the men in my life." Was Agnes
Moorhead bewitching starlets? Capucine admitted that she wouldn't mind
a fling with Barbara Stanwyck. Patsy Kelly, Judy Garland, Elsa
Lanchester, Martha Raye are all implicated.

Not to mention Janet Gaynor, Maude Adams, Lynn Fontanne, Isadora
Duncan, Laurette Taylor, Spring Byington, (Spring Byington?!!) and
Dame Judith Anderson.

Don't take my word for it. Please. Leave the defamation suits to Mr.
Madsen. I'm just a jubilant quoter here. It was a fun game to play in
the olden days (or last week) discovering that our screen heras WERE
who we hoped they would be.

Waiting for Ellen kind of pales in comparison. 

On the other hand, Marjorie Maine. It's such a shuddering thought,
making it with Ma Kettle.

Well, that was fun. Guess it's time to get back to some serious work. 

Even cold dish can sometimes be hot.

________________________
(C) 1997. Shelly Roberts. All rights reserved.
May be reprinted only in its entirety with written permission.

Shelly Robertsthe author of the #1 best-selling
Roberts' Rules of Lesbian Living. (Spinsters Ink.)