Modern Screen (Dec 1949 - Nov 1950)

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MIDOL is the Thing to Tahejhi* FUNCTIONAL PERIODIC PAIN FREE 24-page book, "What Women Want to Know", explains menstruation. (Plain wrapper). Write Dep'f.C-10& Box 280, New York 18, N. Y. Fair-skinned Mr. Dahl turned a little pink then stuttered, "Well, I've sort of been thinking along those lines." On April 15, 1943, Arlene acquired a stepmother and three sisters. When the International Sportsman's Show reached Minneapolis, Arlene became a bathing suit and sports togs model for it. Then she was invited to go along with the show to Chicago. In Chicago, she was only 17 but the Charles A. Stevens store wanted her as fashion consultant and model. She telephoned her father. "Take the job," he said, "and do your best. I know you'll always make me proud of you." From Stevens she went to Marshall Fields as an assistant to an assistant buyer. Just after she started the job, the top buyer quit and she became an assistant buyer. She lived in an apartment with three other girls from Minneapolis — childhood friends, Grace Blackwell, Eve Bogard, Toby Thovsen. ne day the Patricia Stevens Modeling " Agency called her. "How'd you like to go to Florida for a three months' free vacation? You can model enough to pay expenses." Arlene didn't know, but her roommates did. "You're going!" they said. Ethel Capp, titled Miss Photoflash, got the same offer and they went together. In Florida they met George Abbott and J. J. and Lee Shubert, noted Broadway producers. Ethel told them of their ambitions and the men said, "When you come to New York, look us up." Look them up! Broadway. Stardom. They hurried back to Chicago, worked until they'd saved train fare and some over. Ethel had $75 over and Arlene $100. In New York, they registered at the St. Moritz Hotel in a $15.00 a day room and set out to see the promising producers. They couldn't get in to see George Abbott. The Shuberts were polite but they were going out of town. Milton Berle was sorry but his show was already cast. Everyone was sorry. Then Arlene was invited to a cocktail party where Felix Brentano was a guest. Arlene sang and Mr. Brentano invited her to his office. . . . He was casting for Mr. Strauss Goes to Boston. And there she was — in it, singing, dancing. The musical was a hit in Boston. New Yorkers didn't care. It lasted only 12 performances on Broadway and Arlene was out of a job and nearly broke again. On the strength of the job, she'd supported Ethel (who hadn't managed to find one yet) and herself in an apartment on London Terrace. She went to Walter Thornton to get more introductions to theater people. "I'll make you a top-flight model," he said, "but I can't introduce you to theater people." He gave her $300 and sent her to Vogue Magazine where she started posing at $15.00 an hour. Within three months she was making $30.00 an hour. She appeared in Revlon ads and was the Edelbrew Beer Girl of 1946 — but not an actress. '"Then one day she read in Cue that * there would be tryouts for 10 feminine roles for Questionable Lady. She raced over to the office but was one girl too late. The director liked her, though. He handed her a script, explained the character of the girl and her part in the story. Arlene read herself into the ingenue role and spent six weeks on the road working toward Broadway, but the company never made it. If Broadway wouldn't take her, Hollywood did. She played opposite Dennis Morgan in My Wild Irish Rose. Immediately afterward she was offered an M-G-M contract and a role in The Bride Goes Wild. Then she became Red Skelton's leading lady, displaying a nice sense of comedy. Following this came a dramatic role in Reign of Terror. And she was a star — in The Outriders, Three Little Words, Watch the Birdie. An actress. An unmarried actress, but not for long, they say, pointing to Lex Barker. "Lex?" she says, her eyes shining, "He's in Africa now and has been for six weeks." In the meantime, there's Lew Ayres, Philip Reed, Col. Jo Perron, Turhan Bey. Arlene lives in an attractive apartment near Roxbury Park with her cousin, Elena Dahl Syness, and her maid, Elizabeth Townsend. Once a year she gives a big party. "Christmas was the most wonderful, wonderful time of the year when I was growing up. We Norwegians celebrate for six weeks. We have a smorgasbord for a week before Christmas and we don't take down our Christmas tree until the end of January. So now I have open house about the 20th of December. I can't prepare all the wonderful Norwegian delicacies (although her friends rave about the way she cooks Norwegian meat-balls), but I've found that Scandia (A Sunset Strip restaurant) is really wonderful when it comes to catering for my smorgasbord, complete to boar's head with the red apple in his mouth for the centerpiece." Suddenly she'll stop in her remembering. "I've been lucky," she'll say, and laugh it off. "Lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time. I had to worry about finances only once — when Mr. Strauss Goes to Boston folded. I was down to my last nickel when I appealed to Walter Thornton to help me get a job. I used to walk from 23rd Street to Central Park at 57th and back again because I didn't have even bus fare. My shoes wore out, too. Plenty of matchbook covers have been scotch-taped into my inner soles. "Out I'd never write home for help — not after all my father had done for me. Some youngsters have the challenge of poverty. I had the challenge of making my father proud of me for some achievement of my own. After all he'd provided the money for any kind of lessons I wanted to take, anything I needed to achieve my goal. I had to prove he was right when he said, 'I know you'll always make me proud of you.' " And Minneapolis knew it, too. Arlene treasures a copy of "The Prophet" given her by her English teacher Mrs. Keyes. Inscribed in it is, "Please accept this with my admiration for what you were here at Washburn High, for what you are now and with best wishes for what you are going to be." A while back, the Misses Ward, three sisters who ran the Minneapolis dancing studio where Arlene studied for ten years, wrote to Arlene for advice about moving to Hollywood to open a studio. "Why don't you try it?" Arlene wrote back. "You're sure of at least one student!" So they moved to Hollywood and once a week Arlene goes over to their studio on Melrose Avenue for a ballet lesson, merely one of the many students the three teachers instruct. They're proud of her — the Misses Ward. And her father, who lives in Santa Monica now, doesn't have to tell her how he feels. She knows — that lovely, lucky Dahl. The End Paid Notice DO MEN EVER AVOID YOU! SEE PAGE. 16