Photoplay (Jan - Jun 1933)

Photoplay Magazine for March, 1933 IOI Two's a Crowd [ CONTINUED FROM PAGE 34 ] she might have become just another sister of the famous who simply disappeared. If she had made a triumphal entry behind a police escort in her Igotta-Cheesini, and had taken up her residence a la figidairc in a marbletrimmed mansion — but she didn't. Twentyyear-old Joan was already far too wise to make such mistakes or allow them to be made for her. Instead, Joan came to Hollywood as a little brown mouse, trying at first to gnaw only a little hole. At first, scarcely anybody knew she was in town at all. She took a modest little apartment, with only a nurse for the now five-yearold Diana, nee Adrienne (and a cute little trick she is, too). She drove around town in a little Ford car — to the eminent peril of the populace, because Joan is very near-sighted. Figuratively speaking, Connie glided over the boulevards in her chauffeur-driven limousine while Joan rattled and squeaked down the side streets; and that isn't nearly as figurative as it sounds, either. ANYWAY, Joan's modus operandi was as different from Connie's as chalk from cheese. Their personalities are as far apart as the poles, anyway. Connie's difference from Joan is theatrical, strident; Joan's difference from Connie is quiet, subtle. Connie is a beautiful princess of the stage, while Joan is a princess of the blood. You know how it is on the screen — Connie may start out humbly, but she always winds up as the beautiful, sophisticated lady, her lovely blonde head emerging from a soiree of gorgeous clothes, just like Gloria Swanson did years ago. In Joan's latest picture, "Me and My Gal," she is a waitress whose ultimate achievement is to marry a cop. The same contrast holds pretty true off screen, too. Of course, Gene Markey, Joan's present husband — and a charming fellow indeed— is a long way removed from being a cop. But he is merely an American, while Connie could get along with nothing less than a marquis. She still drives the little car herself, though not quite so perilously to the population as before, because she wears glasses now and drives more slowly. But can you imagine a movie celebrity having a three-year-old Ford repainted instead of buying a new one? Joan just did. The paint job cost her exactly twenty-five dollars. "It's good for three more years now," she says. After her first picture she moved into a little house, but it is characteristic of Joan that the house cost even less than the apartment. Now she lives in a big house in Beverly Hills, quite in keeping with her position. But the catch is that she rents the house instead of owning it, and the rent she pays is actually less than the taxes and interest would be if she had to pay them. You can get a lot for a little just now, if you happen to know how — and Joan does know how. CONNIE has just had the resplendent edifice which she owns and inhabits completely redecorated and refurnished. You can imagine what that cost Connie — in addition to the original item of buying and constant item of upkeeping the house. Joan is still using the same furniture she had when she was married to her first husband. She has had it ever since she was sixteen. When she came to Hollywood, she had the furniture shipped from New York, and she had it shipped via the canal to save the difference in freight. Of course, when Joan married Gene Markey she did marry also quite a stable of cars. Cars are Gene's hobby. But they are gas-eaters, it's s»*a rt to cry **cn y0Ut isn t D*"' v,abV start * . , S;\fJ^«atedt'g"*: ^i: v ** your a cated soaps W*'b*S They approve doctors and purs« say fe s,mp,e, ivory Soap V,eca« dyes ^. mild V"re l a,v uo delicate sMii lubricants • • • tne rosy *>« tect your *>- What could Pr" this soap that is ^ skin as soitiy {a_ a stnootn sk. breatri oi y Then step out, WUe ^ you re ivory-::;::,. ^^y ^^-^ -^*" Copr. 1933. Procter & Gamble (