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Can you tell who Rosalie is from the closeup above? Or from the glimpse of her with the author at the right? If not, try identifying her from the pose below.
Bachrach Photo
HOLLYWOOD should hold its sides and roar. With laughter. Hollywood should hide its eyes and blush. With shame.
For the greatest hoax ever perpetrated on the gelatine borough was perpetrated the other day.
When the greatest star in films applied for a job at the Hollywood studios — and was turned down.
She went, this star whose fame rings round the world, the run of the casting directors' offices. They looked her over. They cried "Thumbs down!"
Hollywood entertained an angel unawares.
This is the way it began:
We were lunching, Dorothy Donnell and I, with this Very Famous Star. She was recounting to us pranks she had played on her husband's best friend, on her own mother and on other intimates. She declared that she had made up so skilfully, disguised herself so thoroughly, that she had fooled those closest to her. In the case of her husband's best friend she had posed as one Gertrude Wilkey, a willing gal with a lively heart. And the best friend had rather more than flirted with the supposed Gertrude, never dreaming that she was, in reality, his reticent and unapproachable hostess. And one of cinema's Chosen Few.
28
WHO
The Greatest of Stars Perpetrates the Greatest Hoax that Ever Hoodwinked Hollywood
We said, "Well, you couldn't fool us! You couldn't disguise yourself so that we wouldn't know you."
She said, "I'll bet you!" We went further. We said, "All right, but you certainly couldn't fool Hollywood. Hollywood who knows your every angle, expression, gesture. You wouldn't dare go to the studios, pose as an extra, look for work." And this Very Famous Star who is, as you will see, a more than famous good sport accepted the challenge, took the dare and thus began the greatest indoor sport the film world has ever known.
I
OUTBLONDING THE BLONDES
CALLED for her in her dressing-room, on her own lot. I can't say whether I would have recognized her or not. Probably not, if I had not been prepared in advance. She is not the type of person of whom you would ever think in a prankish mood. And probably it is fair to say that this psychology accounts for the blindness that is to follow. It would simply never occur to anyone, that's certain.
She wore, this distinguished lady, a rampageous blonde wig. She out-chemical-blondined every chemical blonde in Hollywood. And they, God wot, are many. The blonde wig rioted all over her head and escaped in horrified corkscrew curls from under the brim of a somewhat unbrushed-looking blue felt hat. She wore a cheap little silk dress, dark blue with reddish flowers. A tight little dress. Deauville sandals and short socks. She carried the most pitiful little silk hand-bag stuffed with a