Picture Play Magazine (Mar-Aug 1926)

98 An Innocent Abroad Continued from page 27 carefully evaded the unwholesome strata. She has surrounded Mary with the artistic things to which the child's untutored instincts have blindly reached out. It is nice that one of the most genuine and worth-while sets of Hollywood has taken up little Mary, and that by no accident has she fallen in with the riffraff. At the Lubitsch home on Sunday afternoons a cosmopolitan crowd gather, people who find their pleasure in cultural enjoyments. After a swim in the backyard pool, they talk over their teacups of art and music and drama, and bashful Mary absorbs it, seldom venturing an opinion and then only when asked. Only two young men are permitted regular attendance upon her. One is a sweet, gentle boy who is something of a dreamer himself. The other is a young studio executive, heartily indorsed by Carl Laemmle. Many Sunday afternoons at the Philbin home, under surveyal, preceded the permission, at first grudgingly granted, to take Mary out unchaperoned. Perceiving his error in first suggesting the theater, the studio executive, being a man of brains, said tentatively: "The concerts at the Bowl are very fine. And there are good art galleries in Los Angeles. It is necessary for Mary's development that she familiarize herself with these arts." And gradually maternal vigilance relaxed into trust. Much criticism was directed at Mrs. Philbin a couple of years ago, because of her strict supervision and the denials with which she hedged Mary in. "The poor child isn't allowed a thought of her own," Hollywood used to pity her. But Mary has read books that the jazz girls have no time for ; she has remembered what she read. And now that her timidity is giving place to a trifle of self-confidence, upon occasion she talks, quite well, revealing a mind that has not been idle in storing up knowledge. She is the only girl in Hollywood whom five years have not changed to some extent. Her talent is developing, but photographically and in personality she is the Mary of yesterday, except that her curls are done up. It happened that our luncheon together celebrated the fifth anniversary of her arrival in Hollywood. With us were a publicity boy and the nice young studio executive. "There's Norma Talmadge." Mary's eyes picked stars from the crowd, and she sat on the very edge of her chair, an inconspicuous little brown sparrow, happy at being in the aviary with the fashionable peacocks and the golden canaries, admiring their plumage without a trace of envy. "And Enid Bennett, in green ! Ooh, the orchestra's going to play!" Her eyes dropped demurely, but the quick tattoo of her little feet set us all aquiver. And when the young man rose, she whispered, "I was afraid he wouldn't ask me for a long time, and I do so love to dance." She flicked a powder puff from her vanity case. Instantly alert, the gallant swain chided: "Now, now, Mary — oh, only powder. That's all right." And, to me, "Once in a while she fools me, but I can always tell rouge and lipstick." S'uch instances, coupled with her innate innocence, make it difficult for me to realize that I am but three years older. Mary twenty-one ? Impossible ! I used to sit and look at her with my fingers crossed, musing, "Clever little Mary, to keep up your pose !" Then I stopped that, and, admitting the sincerity of the innocent, I wondered how long ' she would remain untouched by the life surging about her. Five years is a long, long time to nil) elbows with life without becoming too well acquainted with it. The simple facts of life, of course, her mother has told her. She knows there isn't any Santa Claus — and a few other things. "Innocent, not ignorant," one boy described her. "She knows — but she instinctively sees through glasses of beauty and purity instead of the smoky spectacles that most of us wear." Between dances and ordering wondrous dishes in a spirit of curiosity, she chatted brightly that day at luncheon of all the exciting things now happening to her. She's to have her first real fur coat, if you please, and is in an ecstasy of choice, hovering between the more practical squirrel and the luxurious ermine. She — the family, rather, for she would be too timid to drive — is to have her, or their first car. "Five years ago to-day, I rode down Hollywood Boulevard for the first time. I was so thrilled ! It was like paradise, I thought, and I still do. "The next day I reported at Universal." In five years she has not had a vacation, excepting the weeks between films, occupied with publicity pictures, costume fittings, and the like. A child of many talents, her few spare hours have not dragged. There was her music, and her French and German, engrossing languages to study, and the fun of drawing figures and thinking up ways to color them. And trips downtown on the bus with mother, happy hours looking at all the lovelies in the shops and visioning herself in them. I cannot begin to hazard the influence— or perhaps there will not be any, noticeably — of Mary's social debut upon her personality and her work. Her future depends upon the directorial guidance given her, and upon her own reactions to the new life that is opening so interestingly before her. Gay Continued from page 61 it is made of worsted embroidery in a conventional pattern of gay colors. Martin fur bands the collar and cuffs and the lower edge of its threequarter length. The brilliant colors of this coat make it a charming one for wear over sport dresses, and as it is absolutely simple in cut and style, it could be readily copied in any gayfigured material, with or without the fur, as one prefers. colored Gowns for i The coat at the left of the top of page 61 offers an excellent suggestion of a lightweight wrap for a spring evening. The scarf neck is an interesting change from the usual fur collar, and the use of fur on the cuffs only is also a different touch. It belongs to the wardrobe of Alice Joyce, and is of coral pink, embroidered in pearls and crystals. The dainty dance frock in the center of the trio on page 61 seems to ipril me to be particularly designed for a youthful wearer, and would be a charming gown for any of the numerous affairs which finish up the school year. With its wide bertha and its fluffy trimming of ostrich feathers, it is a simple party gown which would be lovely in any color; this one is peach color, and is worn by Kathleen Key, Metro-GoldwynMayer player.