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ywoo
Bad
Girls
AM a woman. I am very good looking and I have had many lovers.” Evalyn Knapp said.
This series of statements would surprise nobody who has a friend who heard that a friend of a friend told a friend just exactly how Hollywood’s younger set does go on.
But it was a bit surprising to hear Andy Devine say to Evalyn, “Are you living or dead ?” And to hear Evalyn reply. “I’m dead.”
“When did you die?”
“A long time ago.”
“Are you Cleopatra?” asked Andy’s fiancee.
Evalyn sighed and admitted that she was. Yes, she was Cleopatra. Believe it or not.
Andy’s sweetheart, blonde Arline Carol, looked complac¬ ently out at us and said, “I have been married six times. I've had three legitimate children and scads of the other kind.”
Andy never batted an eyelash. He didn’t seem to care at all. Rather wearily he asked, “Did you ever kill anybody?”
“Yes,” said Arline.
And as it turned out she was none other than Henry the Eighth. And there we sat playing guessing games far into the night. Everybody plays guessing games. Hollywood has gone naive.
I don’t tell you that because I want to white-wash Holly¬ wood. It needs no more white-washing than Cleveland, Memphis, Rochester or Tacoma. It’s just another town with a fair allottment of all kinds of people. Hollywood has its girls who could say what Evalyn Knapp said in my first paragraph and they wouldn’t be playing. But I’d like to see the town that hasn’t got its local Cleopatras. May I point out without giving too much offence that only a hand¬ ful of Hollywood’s population is California born? The golden state can’t be blamed for the sinners or take credit for the saints in the moving picture industry. They’ve come from all over seemingly undaunted by the tales of the terrible sacrifices a girl must make to become a movie star.
She must permit an important executive to force a Beverly Hills mansion and a foreign car upon her. You’ve heard that story and maybe you believe it. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. It has happened. Beautiful girls have given themselves for screen glory. Sure, they have. But they’re the same girls who would have chosen the line of least resistance if they had stayed home and worked in a factory or a restaurant or an office. It is not necessary to choose what the old-fashioned novelist called a fate worse than death. If a girl has charm or talent the industry needs her and her chastity is just as safe as she wants it to be.
Nothing but the box office can make a popular star and the girl who has just enchanted an important executive is still a long way from her goal. She must make the public “that way” over her, too, and if she fails the executive can do nothing for her.
Hollywood is full of one-picture gals who thought they were set when some man with twelve telephones on his desk said, “How about tonight ?”
10
"Look," cried the extra sirl and stood before