Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1953)

My Constipation worries are over! Milk of Magnesia provides better relief more complete relief than single -purpose laxatives which have no effect on the acid indigestion that usually accompanies constipation. For Milk of Magnesia relieves both conditions. Two to four tablespoonfuls taken at bedtime work leisurely — without embarrassing urgency. So, when morning comes, you start the day feeling wonderful. Get Phillips’ Milk of Magnesia — the best laxative money can buy. PHILLIPS' milk of MAGNESIA liquid or Tablets The convenient 4-ounce size The economical 12-ounce size The moneysaving 26-ounce size . Also available in tablet form 30 tablets 281 28£ 55ft 8 St Debbie's ( Continued from page 57) And just then Debbie walked toward them across the room. “Hey, chick,” the scout was beginning to feel his drinks just a little, “that’s a mighty pretty dress you’ve got on. And mighty modest.” Debbie, who, as usual, had been drinking ginger ale — straight — gave him one of those twinkling smiles. She had an idea what was coming next. And she was right. It came. “You know, Debbie, you ought to wise up. Give yourself some sex appeal. Get yourself a dress or two that shows the world what you’ve got.” Now Debbie may be modest. But that doesn’t mean she’s shy. When she has something to say, she says it. And she had a great deal to say just then. “That,” she said, “is not my idea of sex at all. Sex appeal is something inside a person. You either have it or you don’t. And if you do, you don’t have to serve it up on a silver platter. It’s there — and people can recognize it. “Sure,” the scout broke in. “But you don’t have to make it so darned hard for them to find.” “If that means posing in the nude, and giving out sexy interviews, you can count me out. If I have to do that to get ahead in the movies, they’re going to have to get a new girl.” And with that, Debbie bowed out of the tete-a-tete. That scout was by no means the first person who has tried to convince Debbie that she ought to dress more daringly. In fact, there was a small-size ruckus on that very problem when she was playing in “I Love Melvin.” In a dream sequence, she was supposed to be decked out as a slinky movie star. And the M-G-M wardrobe department had designed a really low-cut gown for her to wear. They tried it on her and she shuddered. “Ooh,” she said. “I feel so naked!” “But,” they insisted, “it’s right for the part.” “Maybe,” said Debbie. “But it certainly isn’t right for me.” Finally, over vehement protest, she had them add material — one, two, then three strips — to the neckline. And that was the way she wore it. Hopeless Every once in awhile she does get into a low-cut dress — just medium low, that is — and then she’s miserable all evening. She keeps her hands clutched at the neckline and drives photographers wild. At a night club once, a photographer was trying to get a glamour-shot of her. Exasperated, he called out, “Take your hands down, Debbie.” And Debbie, keeping her hands exactly where they were, retorted, “You take care of your pictures. I’ll take care of my dress.” This simple modesty colors not only Debbie’s clothes style, but everything about her: her conversation, her choice of friends, her ideas of how to have fun. Take the matter of dating, for instance. Debbie and the young men she goes out with don’t always see eye to eye on what is and what is not proper behavior for young people. One night, she was out with a group of a half dozen or so, and the conversation turned, as it has a way of doing, to sex. Debbie spoke out strongly, for she has definite opinions on the subject. Her date gave her a long, cold look and said disgustedly, “Oh Debbie, don’t be such a professional virgin.” She was so taken aback, she said afterwards, that she didn’t say another word for the rest of the evening. And anyone who knows what a chatterbox she is, can be sure that if she wasn’t talking, she was doing a lot of thinking. The phrase upset her. But after that night she put it out of her mind and didn’t think about it again until she saw “The Moon Is Blue,” in which the same words are used to the virtuous heroine. “Then I remembered,” recalls Debbie, “and I laughed and laughed and laughed. And what’s more, I knew that I was Tighter than ever.” Hollywood wolves just can’t figure Debbie out. Men-about-town though they may be, they invariably get the brush when they call her. She has had to change her telephone number four times because of the persistent baying and howling that comes over her wires, mostly from selfstyled smoothies she hasn’t even met. Those conversations usually go something like this: He: How about going out tonight? She: I’m very sorry, but I can’t. I don’t even know you. WHO ARE YOUR FAVORITES? Send your votes for the stars you want to see in photoplay In color I want to see: actor: actress: (1) ' cl (2) (2) I want to read stories about: (2) (3) (41 The features l like best in this issue of Photoplay are: (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) NAME ADDRESS AG Paste this ballot on a postal card and send it to Readers P oil Editor, Box 1374, Grand Central Station, /V. Y. 17, N. Y.