Hollywood (Jan - Oct 1934)

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Hollywood Fashion Creators Train You AT HOME With the cooperation of leading Fashion Creators of Motion Picture Studios and Screen Stars themselves, this 50 year-old college, in the new style center nf the world, will teach you Professional Costume Designing In your spare time at home by Its casy-to-Iearn method— and prepare you for a hlgiisatarled position. Free placement service for our student.,; graduates in demand. Woodbury College, Hollywood, Calif. MAIL COUPOH fOR f R-F-E BOOK WOODBURY COLLEGE, Dept. Il-E, Hollywood, Calif. Send me FRKE your new book, "Designing Hollywood Fashions," and full particulars of your home-study (xiursa In Costume Designing. My age Is Miss — Mrs „ Street ...._ City State Mother Clara Continued from |tu«e thirty-two word. It might have brought greater joy and happiness into Clara's life if she had "adopted" these two cousins of hers, but she knew what hurt it would bring to her uncle and aunt. So Clara took them along to live with her, to give them clothes, schooling and the best of care, and to take from them nothing except the love that they would willingly lavish on her. Those who have accused Clara of taking the children with her because she wanted to keep up with the rest of the Hollywood procession might like to know what really happened. Clara has always had the urge to "mother" people. She mothered Gilbert Roland when he was young and unknown. She begged Producer Schulberg to sign him up. She mothered Gary Cooper when he was shy and unhappy. She said so herself. She admitted once, "I felt something like Gary's mother. I wanted to rumple his hair, listen to all of his troubles." And so it went through all Clara's love affairs, the maternal in her always dominant, until she met Rex Bell. And even with Rex, her love is partly the love of a woman for a man, partly the love of a mother for a little boy. Clara Has always been fond of pets, and if you know anything about psychology at all, you know what that means. She has five baby dogs, a chipmunk and a white mouse she carries with her, and still it isn't enough. As she has more of everything else than other girls, so is her mother instinct more vital, more passionate. And never having had anything more vital to expend her mother love on, Clara has lavished it on her pets. \ There's a touching little story back of the acquisition of Clara's mouse. One day she was walking in the desert near her ranch when a series of terrified squeaks attracted her attention. Looking to see what caused them, she saw a tiny gray mouse being attacked by two snakes. With her whip she drove off the snakes and picked up the tiny mouse in her hands. Clara decided to adopt him and took him with her to Hollywood. She fed him and took the best of care of him, but "Pinkie" died, because of the change in climate. Clara was as heartbroken as if she had lost a friend, and one of her friends, seeing how unhappy she was, gave her a little white mouse as a gift. All that may seem far away from Clara's decision to give the children of her uncle certain advantages, but it is all part and parcel of the same starved mother instinct in her. You see, Clara originally wanted to take just Lillian, a small girl with dark hair and big brown eyes. But when Johnny thought he was going to be left behind, he cried as if his heart would break, and Clara just couldn't bear it. That was when Clara decided to take both Johnny and Lillian with her. All her life Clara has been trying to blot out memories of her early years. Her own childhood was not particularly happy. That is why she welcomed the opportunity to give her small cousins the advantages which their parents could not afford. 52 Clara's Birth was not a source of joy to her father and mother. They lived in a tiny flat with two rooms. Two children had been born before Clara — both girls. One lived two hours, the other two days. The doctor told Clara's mother that she must never have any children, that Clara's birth might cause her death. She lived, however, after Clara was born, but it was a living death. Her fear, her anxiety, the terrible labor pains, affected her mind. There were times when she was fiercely tender, maternal, protective, and there were other times when she turned on Clara as though her child were a stranger. And yet when her mother was not troubled by these moods she showed Clara the greatest tenderness and love. Clara, with her strange, unworldly intuition, understood and worshipped her mother. She cannot speak of her even now without choking up and great tears welling into her eyes. When her mother died Clara was desolated, but it was Clara's portion in life to go on living, even when she felt there was nothing to live for. Her childhood memories in Brooklyn are bitter. Death was all around her, and the mocking faces of hunger, and violence and tragedy. When she was only five her grandfather dropped dead at her feet while he was swinging her. Frightful tragedy, of the kind you think exists only in a Greek play, touched everyone she knew and loved. There was one little boy she always played with and went to school with. One day after school when she was alone upstairs she heard a terrible noise. She rushed down to find that her little friend had gone too near a fire and was burning. She rolled him up in a carpet, did everything she could for him, but he died in her arms. And for months after his death she used to wake up in the night and dream she heard him calling, "Clara, Clara — -help me." You all know how she found fame and money and beauty in the strange alien world of the movies. She left the past behind her, or tried to leave it behind. She must not, dare not think of it. She must wipe out every memory, every unhappiness, every tragedy. How? How? How? The question beat against her brain. It mocked her. Her very success mocked her. How to forget? How to keep from thinking? It was thinking, remembering that was so terrible, that froze the very blood in you. She told an interviewer once, "I don't want to look into the future. I don't care. I distrust the future. If someone would lift the veil for me, I wouldn't let them. It is better not to look ahead and not to look back. I will not look back. I must not. And I dare not look ahead. I am afraid." There must be no yesterday for Clara. There must be no tomorrow. Only today, today to be lived with laughter on your lips and hectic gayety. There must be no time for thought. You had to do things to forget. When pain gnawed at your heart, laugh. If memories crowded in on you, live more hectically, faster, faster, faster. And so Clara Bow's life kept on turning like a merry-go-round that didn't know where it was going but HOLLYWOOD