Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1936)

PHOTOPLAY MAGAZINE FOR DECEMBER, 1936 97 A WORDTO THE FASHI ON-WI SE You know how stunning Myrna Loy is in evening clothes. Don't miss the full-color portrait of her next month in a gorgeous gown of the very newest glittering metallic cloth. Also, the latest additions to Joan Crawford's smart personal wardrobe, designed by Adrian. These and many other distinctive PHOTOPLAY fashions are shown in the issue that's on sale at all newsstands December 10th. Artists. There was no response, and their hearts sank. Suddenly Grace Moore made a great decision. "Blanche," she said, "if we are actresses now is the time to prove it. Keep your chin up and watch for your cues." And without further ado, she demanded to see the manager of the hotel. "We came here to see our friends, Mr. and Mrs ," she explained to the elderly, kind-faced man who answered the summons. "Why, they have gone to the country — I'm afraid they will not return for several days," he explained. "How embarrassing," said Grace Moore. "You see, we arrived in the city only this morning and planned to surprise them. We didn't dream that they would be out of town on Christmas Day. Now, I suppose, we must start looking for an apartment . . . and, of course, no one will want to show apartments on Christmas . . ." " I would be glad to show you an apartment," the manager interrupted. "Now, I have one that was just vacated by Miss Kitty Gordon — the actress, you know. Would you care to see it? " "Of course," said Grace Moore, with her most regal air, which in those days was very, very regal. The apartment was beautiful. Two large bedrooms, a lavishly furnished living room, a tiny kitchenette. "and the rent . . .?" suggested Grace. "$350 a month." "Perfect!" exclaimed the penniless exingenue, and with admirable presence of mind covered her friend's instinctive gasp by adding, "what's the use of looking any farther, Blanche? The apartment is exactly what we need, the price is reasonable — why, we might just as well take it now and avoid going to some stuffy hotel tonight . . ." "But," Blanche said weakly. "Yes, I know," said Grace and turned artlessly to the manager. "You see, it's a holiday and tomorrow is Sunday and we won't be able to transfer our funds until the banks are open. I suppose it will be quite all right to give you a check day after tomorrow, after we have been able to make banking arrangements." "To be sure," agreed the manager most heartily. Within the hour, two very healthy stomachs overrode the natural excitement of the coup d'etat and made their demands known. "And now, Miss Smartie, what are we to do about eating?" demanded the still dubious Blanche Le Garde. Grace Moore thought for a moment. "Blanche," said she, solemnly, "the one thing we have always needed is background. This is New York, where background is all important. Wait! I'm about to demonstrate!" Going to the telephone, she called Ruben's, one of New York's most fashionable restaurants. "This is Miss Grace Elizabeth Moore," she announced impressively and then, with a triumphant glance at Blanche, added their address in a tone which automatically raised the price of their apartment at least a thousand a year. "I want you to send to our apartment immediately a complete turkey dinner for two . . . yes, that's right, and please arrange to send my bills on the first of each month . . . but I'm afraid I must insist on that. You see, I make it a habit to pay all my bills on the first of the month . . ." She hung up the telephone with a theatrical flourish, and bowed to Blanche Le Garde. "We eat!" she announced. "I don't know exactly where the money is coming from, but we will get it. And we will pay the rent and keep this apartment. Blanche, this is a turning point — we're going to make our bluff good ! " A ND now, once again, our scene shifts back Ho the luxurious room in Hollywood where Grace Moore, on December 25th, 1935, is writing a letter. ". . . so much water has passed under the proverbial bridge since that Christmas Day in New York. We have both had successes beyond our wildest dreams — but, somehow, I have always felt that our good fortune started at that very moment when things seemed darkest. And certainly, Blanche, our luck did turn, if not at that moment, within a remarkably short time. Do you remember your worry . . . and your relief when I landed a job on Monday? If I have learned one important lesson from life it is this: Courage always finds a way out. God bless you always, Grace." tf* M* Ho ft Once there was a famous beauty with pink eyes . . . Yes there was NOT! you say instantly. And you're right. Nobody can be a famous beauty — or the best looking girl in town — or even the normally pretty, attractive person most of us hope we are — unless her eyes are clear and shining every minute. Yet all too often these days your eyes can ruin your whole appearance. Without your knowing it, they tell a tale of weariness, exertion, exposure to dust, glare, late hours or cigarette smoke. What to do about cloudy, dull or pink-edged traitor-eyes? Just one thing . . . keep your bottle of IBATH always nearby. Before you go out, tip the little sdver helmet to each eye and feel this harmless physician's formula snapping them wide-awake and starry-clear . . . banishing every suggestion of ugliness. IBATH is so effective the most famous beauties use it constantly. 50c at all good drug stores . . . get your bottle and IBATH sparkle today. ibath McKesson a bobbins Manufacturing Chemists sine* 1833