Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1951)

Designing Woman (Continued from page 58) stars they probably aren’t. Also, among other things, Arlene has invented and marketed the “Dahl Beauty Cap.” It’s a cap of nylon net ruffles with tiny rosebuds embroidered between the ruffles and a ribbon chin-strap finished off with a ribbon bow. It’s to wear in bed to cover those very unglamorous pin curls. A feminist of the button-and-bows school, Arlene believes that women should look their best even at their worst. The Dahl Cap, she is certain, will reduce the number of divorces the country over. Arlene herself wears the cap at night, in colors to match the pink or black sheer nightgowns she favors. She thinks the oldfashioned negligee (and she loaded up on them for her honeymoon) is far more feminine and “sexy” than the tailored robe most women wear today. With her negligees she wears mules she designed, satin with toes of nylon ruffles. She sleeps between pink sheets which smell not of the laundry, but of her favorite perfume. 1’OT only does she design all her own ll clothes. She also designs clothes for friends and relatives. And it is her ambition to own, when, her bank account permits, an Arlene Dahl Dress Shop fcr which she will design the clothes. Since she dresses for men, and not for other women, her trademark will undoubtedly be “The more feminine the better.” And the husbands of Hollywood no doubt will push their severely-suited mates right into her frilly dressing-rooms. According to her father, Rudolph Dahl, who lives in Santa Monica and works for an automobile agency, Arlene was mentally alert as a child. “She liked outdoor sports, but only in a mild way,” he says. “She seemed to be happiest when she was sitting at her little table drawing and sketching. When she was six her mother and I took her with us to the Builders Show at the auditorium in Minneapolis. In one of the booths there was a blackboard and chalk. Arlene settled herself at the blackboard and started drawing different characters’ who were standing around. Soon she had all the people in the place watching her. Didn’t faze her at all. “Even as a child she could sketch clothes. She and her mother would go downtown, window shop until they saw a dress they liked, then Arlene would take out pencil and paper and sketch it. Back home she’d cut a pattern of it out of newspapers, and make herself a dress much prettier than the one she originally copied.” The pride of the Rudolph Dahls — Arlene was an only child — also exhibited a flair for acting at quite an early age. She made her first public appearance at four at a summer resort. Mr. Dahl’s parents were celebrating their Golden Anniversary and took over an entire summer resort so that all the Dahls, hundreds of them, could gather. The Dahls are a hearty race of Scandinavians, and there are more of them in Minnesota than there are descendants of the Mayflower passenger list in New England. They all seem to be rugged individuals who live to be ninety. Anyway, Arlene’s grandmother, who lived to be ninety-six, hoisted her up on a picnic table and said, “Sing, Arlene.” Whereupon dainty little Arlene tossed back her redgold curls and sang “Alice Blue Gown” with “Polly Put the Kettle On,” for an encore. The applause was flattering. And Arlene got ideas which her family, predominately Lutheran ministers, did not care for. They frowned when Arlene started taking part in amateur plays in Minneapolis. They shuddered when she went on the radio on a child’s program. But her mother, up until the time of her death when Arlene was fifteen, always encouraged her. When she first came to Hollywood on a Warner Brothers contract the studio wanted to change her name. It lent itself to pans, they said. Arlene can’t stand puns about her name, either. The best way to bring on a deep freeze is to call her “Dahl-face.” But Arlene Dahl was her real name and she liked it. So she called on Jack Warner in his inner sanctum, put on her Norwegian accent which intrigued him mightily, and said politely, “Mr. Warner, I thought you’d like to know that there are thousands of Dahls in Minnesota, all of them my relatives. If you change my name you’ll lose a lot of ticket buyers.” Arlene kept her name. And speaking of names, she doesn’t like nicknames. The kids at school used to call her “Carrots.” And Lex Barker calls her “Chat” which is French for cat. But come now, it’s a compliment. Lex likes cats, and so does Arlene. One of his first presents to her after they became engaged was a Persian kitten named Tigger. Tigger and a neurotic love bird with a Harriet Craig complex are her only pets. Arlene has the usual temper that goes with red hair. But very few times has she been known to lose her temper. Her mother taught her that it wasn’t “ladylike” to show her emotions in public. It may be old-fashioned, but Arlene likes to be a lady. She doesn’t smoke because it isn’t ladylike and she drinks nothing but wine — and that only occasionally. A friend tells about the time in Washington when Arlene danced with a South American diplomat. He evidently hadn’t held so much sheer gorgeousness in his arms before and he was making the most of it. Instead of pasting him one Arlene finished the dance, said pleasantly, “It was a lovely dance,” and made for the powder-room, muttering under her breath, “I’ll kill that guy.” Arlene is 5'7” tall and weighs 118 pounds. Her waist measures 22V2". Her bust 33”. She loves candy, but only allows herself a candy spree occasionally. Between pictures she usually gains about four pounds. She is an enthusiastic salad eater and collects salad recipes. Her favorite non-fattening salad is a slice of tomato, two hard boiled eggs and green peppers on lettuce — no salt, dressing or mayonnaise. She is a pretty good cook and quite adept at making such Norwegian dishes as lutefish, rice soup, julekake and lefse. Ever since Sir Charles and the late Elsie Mendl, attracted by her beauty and refinement, “adopted” her soon after she came to Hollywood (she was living in a motel at the time) Arlene has been a popular party girl. “I was the only girl Sir Charles ever took out who didn’t have a mink coat,” she says with a laugh. She couldn’t afford one then. Now she can afford one, but she prefers a black broadtail which she designed herself. It’s her only fur coat. SHE gives one big party a year, in the Minnesota Dahl tradition. On about the 20th of December she takes over the Scandia (a restaurant which features Scandinavian foods) and invites all her friends in for a fine old smorgasbord — complete to boar’s head with apple in its mouth. At her last party she announced her engagement to handsome “Tarzan” Barker. When the Barkers return from their honeymoon they will live in Arlene’s furnished apartment until they get around to buying a home. The apartment has a living-room, dining-room, kitchen downstairs, and two bedrooms upstairs. Arlene keeps a recording machine (and a telephone) near her bed, as she likes to wake up to Debussy and Grieg. A romanticist of the worst sort, she confesses she rented her apartment because of the Normandy turrets on the building. She wishes she had lived in eighteenth century France. Or maybe in New Orleans before the Civil War. Practical and shrewd most of the time, our little Arlene can go off into a dream world all her own at a moment’s notice. Lex, who is definitely of this world (there is nothing Old World about Tarzan except his great grandparents who were playmates of the Czar of Russia), will have a bit of coping to do when his bride’s mind wanders off on a romantic binge. High on her list of prerequisites for beauty, Arlene lists eight hours of sleep nightly. She doesn’t always get them herself, but she makes up for it by taking a nap every afternoon, working or not. “I’m a drooper,” says Arlene. “I have to have an hour's rest or I drop in my tracks.” Birthmarks to most women are a holy horror. But Arlene has two of them, heart-shaped, and plays them up whenever possible. One hovers just above the corner of her mouth and the other is on her shoulder. The one reputedly adorning her just at the neckline — a very low neckline— she claims is a fraud. It was placed there without her knowledge by a photographic retoucher on a widely printed picture of her last year. During production of Arlene’s last picture, “No Questions Asked,” she said that above all, she wanted marriage, a home and four children. Now, Arlene? The End Your Favorite Pin-Up Girl and give them a chance to brighten the pages in Photoplay's Color Line-up. 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