Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1955)

My Daughter Was Ready for Marriage p 72 (Continued from page 37) Patrizia, the smallest, who is only six today, was just a baby and was willing to accept authority from anyone. Marisa was more mature, more susceptible to suggestions than her twin Pier, who was high spirited and independent. When Marisa and Pier were little, if I said something was red, Marisa would take my word for it. To Pier, I had to prove it. Sometimes, I still have to. All along, Pier has been the most affectionate, the most demonstrative and the most impulsive of all my children. This frequently led to misunderstandings. For instance, when Pier would meet an acquaintance, she would think nothing of throwing her arms around him and giving him an enthusiastic hug. That sort of behavior was all right in Italy, where an “in braccio” was customary. But in America, this was not the case. I tried to impress this upon Pier. Just a few weeks before she was to be married, a reporter came to our home. Pier had known him since she first came to this country, but hadn’t seen him for many months. “It’s wonderful to see you again,” Pier burst out the instant he entered the house, and with arms spread out, rushed toward him. About two feet away, remembering my advice, she came to an abrupt stop, meekly stuck out her hand and said, “How do you do?” The reporter looked dumbfounded. Tied with her demonstrative nature is a feeling of sentimentality, which Pier had difficulty in completely outgrowing and which made it unusually hard for her to take some of the everyday disappointments that are so much a part of life. When she lost Kiss, her pet Spitz dog, which was a present from her godfather, Pier was heartbroken. Always affectionate toward animals, Pier treated Kiss like a friend. She’d walked with him and talked to him, and the mere thought of leaving him behind in Italy when we went to the United States was almost more than she could bear. Yet, there was no choice. She was consoled a little, however, when her grandmother, who lives in Pesaro, a resort on the Adriatic, offered to look after Kiss. We took him to her two weeks before we left for the United States. The week before, grandmother called us in Rome with the sad news that Kiss had sneaked out of the house, and in running across the street, had been crushed beneath the wheels of an oncoming truck. When I told Pier, she cried harder than she’d ever in her life. For three days she wouldn’t touch any food, and neither begging, warning or threatening could make her take a bite. Four days before we left, and we almost postponed the journey, she started to take a little broth. With the excitement of the flight itself and the promise of another dog, she finally got over it, though for many months she could get tears in her eyes when anyone mentioned Kiss and even today hasn’t gotten completely over his loss. But I am proud to say Pier has learned to understand her emotions, and because she is so sensitive, is understanding of other people’s problems. She should make a warm, understanding wife. Although I will be forever grateful for the happiness and opportunities which the United States, and Hollywood, have provided my daughters and myself, moving to a new country, with all the difficulties and adjustments we faced, added to my concern about Pier. When we settled here, she was only eighteen — and young for her age even by Italian standards. Because she trusted and believed people regardless of whether she had known them for years or just met them, Pier was always personally vulnerable to being taken advantage of. At the same time, curiously enough, she was adult beyond her years. When it came to helping friends, both professionally and in personal matters, she had great understanding. Getting into the film industry in Hollywood was in itself a challenge and an education for Pier. For this world of makebelieve, of compliments and promises can easily turn a young girl’s head. Pier has learned these past years to appreciate all sorts of people and, in turn, to evaluate herself. It may sound as though I had been against Pier’s career in the beginning. On the contrary, I was very much in favor of a career for Pier — even in opposition to her father’s wishes. My husband, who was an engineer, opposed any theatrical career for his children. Knowing how strongly he felt, when Mr. De Sica, who directed “Tomorrow Is Too Late,” happened to see Pier and mentioned she might qualify for the lead, I didn’t tell a word of it to Mr. Pierangeli. I knew that Pier’s heart was set on a movie career and, for eight months, while she was testing and preparing herself for the part, I connived with her, with Marisa and even the servants to keep the news from my husband until we knew if Pier would be chosen. After eight strenuous months, Mr. De Sica decided Pier was right for the part and I had no choice but to tell my husband. I vividly remember the evening I sent Pier to her room and went into the living room to speak to my husband. “I have news for you, dear,” I said. “Mr. De Sica wants Pier for a picture and ...” I got no further. I thought the roof would fall in, my husband was so angry. But since I had already signed the contract, there was little we could do about it then. In time, Mr. Pierangeli did overcome his conservatism, and since her career made Pier happy after her terribly hard time during the war, he didn’t object long. I only wish he were still with us today and could see how much acting means to his daughters. When we settled in California one of my biggest concerns was to establish a prop Color portraits of Janet Leigh, Cyd Charisse, Lori Nelson, Arlene Dahl, Barbara Rush by Stern; Elizabeth Taylor by Apger ; Virginia Mayo by Six; Dale Robertson by Bachrach; Ann Blyth by Apger; Grace Kelly by Fraker,M-G-M’s “The Glass Slipper" by ShugrueCarpenter; Tony Curtis by Ornitz; Kirk Douglas and wife by W alt Disney Studio er balance between Pier and Marisa. Thi: was difficult not only because Pier, beinj peppier than her sister, makes friend: more easily, but because from the verj beginning, her career zoomed ahead quickly, while Marisa ’s didn’t really get startec till just a short time ago. My number-one ally was the love of the twins for one another. I can’t recall e single instance of jealousy between them— i not when they played together as children, nor in their teens, nor during theii first days of being courted (although af I times both liked the same fellow). Nevertheless, the situation had changed when we came to Hollywood, with all attention suddenly focussed on Pier. Keeping the necessary equilibrium called for I diplomacy. For instance, when Pier bought a new dress, I made certain that Marisa had one just as nice. When Pier got a car, as soon as possible, I saw that Marisa had one comparable to it. I’ll never forget Pier’s expression when we celebrated the twins’ nineteenth birthdays at the Beverly Hills Hotel just a few weeks after we had arrived over here. “I have something to show you,” I told her after dinner, and took her and Marisa to the front of the hotel. The girls got so excited they had a hard time to keep from running through the foyer. And when Pier found the brand-new car parked right in front of the entrance, she broke into tears from happiness. We couldn’t afford a second car for Marisa at the same time, but on their next birthday, by which time Marisa’s own earnings had increased, we repeated the procedure. This time after dinner it was she who found a brand-new car at the hotel entrance. And the year after, in spite of the fact that Pier’s earnings were bigger than Marisa’s, for their birthday I purchased the home in which we are now living, and had the deed registered in both their names. In another respect I had to watch that one of my twins wouldn’t lag behind. Pier makes friends easily. Marisa, more quiet and selective, has a harder time showing affection and getting acquainted with people. So she wouldn’t be left out of social activities, often when Pier was invited for an evening she would ask Marisa to go along. I remember one invitation Pier received when everyone was asked to bring something along. The hostess, who had referred to games, was more than a little surprised when Pier answered, “Sure, I’d love to bring along my sister.” I was happy to hear this, for Pier has learned to share — which is so very important in everyday life and important in marriage. It has been said that I wouldn’t permit Pier to go out alone on a date till she was twenty-one and that I carefully screened the fellows she could date. I might have done this if we remained in Italy but I didn’t once do this in the United States. It is true that I have been very particular about the persons with whom Pier and Marisa associate. I have always emphasized the importance of marriage and insisted that both of them take care in the selection of their friends. But I have never insisted upon whom they could or couldn’t see. From their nineteenth birthdays they have been permitted to go on dates without a chaperon. The only restriction at that time was they be in before midnight. I feel very strongly that a girl should prepare for marriage. With Pier’s all-important interest in her career she had little inclination to run a household. She had