Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1956)

autographs? Well, no. They were visiting from Cleveland and wanted to know where to find Bullock’s department store. Doris and a friend gave detailed directions and, as the ladies walked away, you heard them murmur, “My aren’t these Californians friendly!” If you were in the parking lot at Paramount a short time ago, you might have seen a Cadillac pull up and overheard the driver request, “Will you tell Mr. So-andSo I’m here?” “Big star,” you might have concluded. “Can’t get out of the car and walk into the building.” However, closer scrutiny would have revealed that the big star and her chum were completely covered with crumbs and powdered sugar from the doughnuts they were munching. When the studio man arrived, she produced a package. “Have some,” she offered. And then with the amazement of a child who’s found more birthday presents than she can open, “Would you believe it, each one’s different! We brought coffee, too!” But still, Doris insists her tastes have changed a lot in every way — if not in doughnuts. “Take the house,” she says. “I remember once I remarked to Marty that I thought I’d go into the interior decoration business. He just laughed and said that if someone ever wanted a modern house I’d walk right out on them. “I used to hate the idea. I loved Early American, which I had first. Then I went in for French Provincial. But now I’ve come to see the beauty in modern. And that’s what I’m going to have next — that is, if Marty likes the idea, too. We like doing everything together. “There’s the matter of color, too. We used to have dark green walls, and there was a big red couch in the living room that practically leaped out at you. “I decided that after all the noise on the set all day, I wanted a quiet house, and so did Marty. So that when we came home we could flop on the couch and relax. Now we have muted shades — buttercream walls, carpeting, couches, with touches of color here and there. It’s so warm and peaceful-looking. And so easy to live with.” As for the subject of moving, the idea is nothing new, nor is it a desire to be “exclusive.” Doris has always longed to live high above the city. She loves a view. When she and Marty visit their friends who have hilltop homes, she invariably disappears from the group for a while. Hostesses know exactly where to find her — at the window with the best view, or perhaps on the terrace, trying to figure which street is where from the patterns of tiny lights below. “I’m going to start looking for a new house soon,” she vows. “As I figure it, it will take at least two years to find what I want. We won’t move right away, though. I’m sentimental about our present neighborhood, and it’s great for Terry because all of his friends are there. “The people we know who live on hilltops have to drive their children around to play with their friends. That wouldn’t do for us just now. When Terry comes home from school, he throws down his books and runs out and all the kids are right there. They come over and play badminton and volleyball and swim. We like it that way. When he’s older, homework will keep him busier in the evenings and maybe then we’ll take to the hills.” Next time she moves, Doris will have the strong arm of Marty Melcher to help her. And aside from furniture, they’ll take a van load of memories with them. Their courtship was centered around the San < Fernando Valley house. It was their mui tual respect for home and family life that i drew them together. That, and love, of course. But love came later. Neither of them can tell you when they fell in love. “It just happened,” they say. And since Marty was such a handyman around the house, after their wedding Doris laughed, “Sometimes I think he got the idea of marrying me out of a SearsRoebuck catalog!” When, and if, they move, they’ll ignore the mansions offered. “If we can’t have a house that can be run by one person, we don’t want it,” says Doris. At home, Doris is a throw-awayer, Marty is a saver. “He’ll save a little nail, a piece of wood, a piece of glass — anything,” she laughs. “What are you going to use it for?” asks the lady. Her husband smiles a wise smile. “You never know,” he tells her. She gives him about three months and, if it hasn’t been used, out it goes. “What do I save?” Her eyes widen. “Why hardly anything — except tissue paper. When anything comes in a box, I take out the tissue paper and put it in the closet. But you know it’s wonderful for packing. Clothes don’t rumple as easily.” Speaking of the subject of packing, their trip to Europe floored one and all — at least all who believed that the Melchers would have to be dynamited out of their back yard except for a trip now and then to see America first. “But I’m positive Doris would never have gone to Europe if Terry hadn’t been on summer vacation and Marty couldn’t have taken time off from his work,” says a friend. “Before anything else, she’s a wife and mother. Everything she does revolves around her family.” The story that the Melchers are stepping out socially more often is true. Nowadays they may be seen attending a good many industry affairs. And they frequently attend small dinner parties and entertain at home. “Our friends seem to love to sit around and talk in our pink playroom,” says Doris. And when the weather’s right, they have all the facilities for back-yard games, swimming and outdoor eating. The Melchers seem to have everything. “It’s a wonderful marriage,” says a friend. “And do they ever make the experts appear to be idiots! You know, the people who say that a husband and wife shouldn’t work too closely together in this industry, or that stars’ husbands are overshadowed by their wives’ fame? “Marty’s overshadowed by no one. The more success Doris achieves, the better he likes it. He’s so darned proud of her. He’s guided her career to the heights, taught her to enjoy her success, brought her out of her shyness. She’s one of the friendliest stars in the business.” It’s true. Take the word of another Hollywood citizen. “In this town,” he says, “you may meet a star at a party or around someplace, but you never know whether or not to say hello next time you run into them. I’ve tried — and found myself staring into a pair of blank eyes. “I met Doris officially just once, a long time ago. I’ve run into her a number of times since. She’s never failed to smile — first, mind you — and give me a big hello. I don’t know whether she knows me from Adam and there’s no reason for her to remember me, but it’s certainly a nice feeling to be on the receiving end of one of those grins of hers.” Marty, though more reserved, is equally as friendly. You’ll find that happy people always are, somehow. Doris and Marty treasure their life together and their happiness as some people treasure their gem collections. Little wonder that every year is her year — correction please — their year. The End H.&S.ORIGINALS INC., 48 WEST 37th STREET, NEW YORK 111 I