Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1951)

T37 J&OAbizow6 -OuiueJtIah4£. ptf-jruvuxi — -toXdbyvuL (kkttkc Aia^kd For mint-cool summer lounging . . . for curl-up-in-comfort televiewing . . . for look-smart traveling and vacation nights . . . you want the tailored glamour of Barbizon’s “Lazy Gal” Pajamas! Only Barbizon weaves this smooth rayon crepe . . . designs, cuts and sews each piece to bring you a top that doubles for a blouse, trousers that fit like expensive tailored slacks. White with Navy or in two shades of Blue. At your favorite store in sizes from 10 to 20 for as little as $6! Barbizon Pajamas, Goivns, Bedjachets and Robes by the makers of famous Barbizon “ Body-Contour ”* Slips. I IZOIL CORPORATION. 475 FIFTH AVENUE. N. Y. C. Look Ahead! ( Continued from page 49) There’s no point in trying to hold on to your twenties or to any other age for that matter. Frankly, I’d hate to have to go through any period in my life again. Not that I didn’t enjoy my teens, my twenties or my thirties. I’ve had some fun at every age in my life. But I think that when you get to your forties, your nice, honestly admitted forties, you really appreciate life. When you’re young and giddy, you’re grasping at so much, so afraid you’ll miss something, so intense about your future, your ambition, your determination, that you can’t honestly say you’re enjoying yourself. When I was in my twenties, I was so intent on enjoying myself that I felt quite deprived when I “had” to make a picture, since it would mean I couldn’t go out. Now, I look back at the girl I was and I wonder how she could have been so silly. Work is so much more fun than just “having fun.” ONE of the most important aids for the woman who wants to be really young, and stay young enough to make a liar out of the calendar, is to keep busy. A busy woman hasn’t time to wrap up her happiness, her whole life, in what she sees when she looks in a mirror. If you keep searching in the mirror for proof that you look younger than you are, you’re a cinch to find some evidence of tension that will set you to worrying. I get a big thrill out of my work, and I make a good many pictures. In fact, I’m black-mood miserable when I’m not working. During the last war several people in town were confounded because I was working more than I ever had before. I made four pictures in one year. Some “best friends” told me I was making a great mistake — that I’d have all four films released at once, in some spots play competition to myself and build up a nice case of box-office poison as a result. Well, they were right — I did have three pictures playing on Broadway simultaneously. Now, three Stanwycks in such heavy doses can be pretty sickening, let’s face it. But the prophets were wrong about the result. It’s funny, but I made the first ten in boxoffice standing that year — the first time I’d crashed that list in my long career. My work has made every day a challenge. It’s kept me so “on the go” that I have had no time to consider a calendar as anything but a guide which tells what day it is and when to write my thank-you notes. And I don’t give much thought to beauty-aids. I’ve never worn any makeup except lipstick. As for mascara, I don’t bother with it, because it’s always smudging around my eyes. Now I admit I’d like to have a facial or a massage one day because I hear they’re good for you, but I just haven’t found time to get around to getting a treatment. I haven’t tried to make the time, either. I guess I dismiss many of these things as vanities because women who are too preoccupied with their makeup bore me as much as they bore men. So I swing the other way, feeling that vanity is practically a sin. It can be, you know. I’ve seen women actually sinning against themselves in that department. All their concentration and concern about their looks, their incapacity, by whatever devices, to avoid the marks of time on their faces, have made them neither girls nor women. They flitter and flutter, bedazzled by their attempts, but bedazzling no one else with their results. And take this business of hair. I’ve seen a lot of women go through a period in which they’re perpetually dyeing their hair. They are blondes one month and 72 Ken. U. S. I'Bt. Off.