Screenland (Nov 1941-Apr 1942)

Society Crashes Hollywood! Continued from page 21 agers were dizzily fluttering and fuming. And this past summer we have been reading in the newspapers and magazines how aghast, agog, stunned and fretted — not to mention how completely stupefied with horror — Newport Society was when Mrs. Anita Niesen, of the Brooklyn and Hollywood Niesens, bought at auction the white marble villa of the late social leader, Mrs. Hermann Oelrichs, as a summer home for her daughter, Gertrude, top notch singer of radio, screen, and night club fame. Ever since the sale Newport's swank summer colony — that close-knit group of eligibles called the "400" — has sighed and moaned and carried on something dreadful. "A torch singer in Tessie's home," they shudder. "Is nothing sacred ?" All this calls for a good hearty belly laugh. The very idea of Society objecting to Hollywood ! Well, phooey. Tuxedo Park could take a lesson from Hyde Park. And as for Newport, shame on them. In the first place, snobbery is no longer chic. And in the second place, if there's any objecting to be done it's Hollywood who's entitled to do it. Because, Society has been crashing Hollywood for the past few years, not in driblets, but in droves. We used to smell only of greasepaint. Now we smell of the stables. Here were we movie folk, leading our own peaceful lives in our own quaint ways, on the sunny shores of the Pacific, thousands of miles away from the coldly aloof citadels of the social elect, and having a very nice time of it, when suddenly, almost overnight, we found ourselves up to our necks in blue bloods. They had taken over our racetracks, our golf clubs, our night clubs, and our best china — and, we suspected, were well on their way to taking over our jobs. As fine a bit of crashing as we have ever seen. Were we aghast, agog, stunned and fretted? I should say not. Did we snub them as "outsiders"? No. Did we moan, "Just think of John Hay Whitney in Miriam Hopkins' early American living room! Isn't it too dreadful !" We did not. We may not have been born with a silver spoon in our mouths, and we may have gotten no nearer the Social Register than the telephone directory, but we have good) manners. When Society crashed Hollywood, Hollywood said, "Well, how nice." Come, come, Newport ! Act your age. The Countess di Frasso (she who was Dorothy Taylor of New York) was the first of the socialites to invade the film colony. The Countess had met Gary Cooper when he was making a picture at the Long Island studios in the East, and fell madly in love with him, as who didn't. When Gary returned to Hollywood, the Countess followed (much to the annoyance of a gal named Lupe) and has been a resident here off and on ever since. Hollywood was quite impressed with the Countess di Frasso in those days, and boasted of invitations to her lavish parties. But when the invasion started, with bigger and better "best families" and titles arriving on every train and plane, the Countess lost caste. (She also lost Gary.) Today we of Hollywood are not at all impressed with Society. We grew out of that. But unlike Queen Victoria, "We are amused." The socialites (some of them only Cafe Society, but who are we to draw lines?) who have invited themselves to play in our playground have turned out to be, for the most part, much more charming, much gayer, much more amusing, and certainly much more democratic than we are ourselves. What with the mingling of the right side of the tracks with the wrong side, the Barbara Huttons with the Cary Grants, the Doris Dukes with the Errol Flynns, no one in Hollywood seemed at all impressed — except the mothers of the movie stars. They remembered the old days when Vanderbilt was a name to roll over the tongue juicily, like a chocolate drop. Typical of the mothers who "remembered" that social era that is now dead as a herring, was Mrs. Blondell, attractive mother of Joan, who used to appear on the stage in a vaudeville act with Ed Blondell. Mrs. Blondell, dropping by the home of her daughter and son-in-law one afternoon, saw on the phone table a message for Mrs. Powell to "call Alfred G. Vanderbilt regarding party." When Joan returned Mrs. Blondell, almost breathless with excitement, asked, "What are you wearing to Alfred G. Vanderbilt's party?" Joan, who had been out with the Whitneys the night before, and the Astors the night before that, said wearily, "I'm not going, I'm too tired." Mrs. Blondell almost fainted. "Not going," she gasped. "If only your grandmother could have lived to see the day a Blondell snubbed a Vanderbilt!" (Mrs. Blondell's daughter, Gloria, later married Alfred G. Vanderbilt's best friend.) Foremost among the socialites who spend a great deal of time in Hollywood are the two cousins, John Hay ("Jock") Whitney and Cornelius Vanderbilt ("Sonny") Whitney. Both cousins went to Groton and Yale, both inherited $20,000,000, and both bear the most socially and financially prominent name in the country — a name that dates back to way before the American Revolution. Since his divorce a year ago from Mary Elizabeth Altemus ("Liz") Whitney, Jock has done most of his night clubbing in Hollywood with Norma Shearer and Olivia de Havilland and Irene and David Selznick — the Selznicks being his best friends on the West Coast. Accompanied by his most cordial and attractive sister, Joan Whitney Payson, Jock comes out for the Santa Anita racing season every winter, takes over Miriam Hopkins' hi 11 -top house, and, as you can well imagine, becomes one of the most sought-after young men in Hollywood. At their very de luxe parties you are likely to find anyone. Joan Whitney Payson, born with a lorgnette in her hand, has probably never used it. Sonny Whitney, recently divorced from Gwladys Crosby Hopkins (it was Gwladys who once found Mack Grey, George Raft's pal, sitting next to her at a dinner party, and wishing to be pleasant said, "What do you do, Mr. Grey?" to which Mack replied, "Say, babe, do I ask you what you do?") has not given any of the Glamor Girls a whirl as yet — but give him time. Liz Whitney finds Hollywood so much to her liking that she divides her time almost equally between Llangollen, her million dollar farm in Virginia, and her ranch in Santa Monica where she breeds show horses. Liz loves fun and gaiety (probably a reaction from stuffy Philadelphia society of her debutante days) and can always be found in Hollywood's smartest restaurants and night clubs. Her escorts are usually Randolph Scott, Bruce Cabot, Tim Durant, Walter Brooks, III, Charlie Chaplin, and before his marriage, handsome young Victor Mature. There is always a generous sprinkling of Vanderbilts in Hollywood. Alfred Gwynne Vanderbilt, Jr., 28, and the country's best known young multimillionaire sportsman, is always on hand for the racing season at Santa Anita. Before his marriage to Manuela Hudson (she's now divorcing him in New York) young Vanderbilt was seen every place with Margaret Lindsay. This year it was Virginia Field. His sister, Mimi Baker, is married to Henry Topping, the brother of Dan Topping, millionaire sportsman, now married to Sonja Henie — and both his sister, Mimi, and his mother, Margaret Emerson (of the Bromo Seltzer millions), mingle with the natives when in town, and have a roaring good time of it. Gloria Morgan Vanderbilt, widow of the late Reggie Vanderbilt, and her twin sister, Lady Furness, have this year established residence in Hollywood and show every sign of staying on. Actor Eddie Lowe and Producer Gene Towne seem to be their favorite escorts around the night spots. Out to visit her mother this summer came seventeen-year-old _ Gloria Vanderbilt, and sporting the highest pompadour West of the Rockies she quickly became the pet of the gossip columnists. Cobina Wright, Jr., introduced her to cowboy actor George Montgomery, who gave her quite a rush, until Gloria decided that youngman-about-town Pat de Cicco was the most fascinating man she had ever met in her seventeen years. When asked if he was going to marry Gloria, Pat said, "How can I marry an heiress when it's all I can do to support myself?" 'Tis rumored that Gloria's aunt, Mrs. Harry Payne Whitney, who opposed Gloria Vanderbilt Senior's custody of the child in a sensational court action several years ago, is none too pleased. Mrs. John Jacob Astor (the former Tucky French) drops in on Hollywood several times a year to visit Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Fairbanks. She and Mary Lee Fairbanks have been chums ever since Mary Lee was married to the socially prominent Huntington Hartford of the chain store millions. Another prominent summer guest of the Fairbankses has been Gurnee Munn, multimillionaire Philadelphia socialite, whose first wife was Pauline Wanamaker of the Philadelphia family. Visiting _ the Joseph Cottens for the summer, Princess Hohenlohe (she's another Vanderbilt) decided that Hollywood has something. It certainly has. Among other things, more Vanderbilts than it can shake a stick at. Last winter the very social Mrs. Harrison Williams, famous for being the best dressed woman in America, was the house guest of Lady Mendl, and later the guest of Greta Garbo, no less, at La Quinta, a fashionable desert resort near Palm Springs. During Mrs. Williams' visit to Garbo that young woman bestirred herself enough to buy a John Frederics chapeau, and with Mrs. Williams on one side and Gayelord Hauser on the other go on one of her rare night club sprees. The Marchioness of Queensberry, daughter of the famous portrait painter Harrington Mann, and wife of the Marquess of Queensberry of the well-known boxing rules family, was the recent guest of Merle Oberon, in private life Mrs. Alexander Korda. The Flyde Park Roosevelts are very Upper Crust,_ as you know, and when young Franklin D., Jr., who has all the charm and good looks of an Errol Flynn) and his bride, the former Ethel Dupont, visited Hollywood (they were the house guests of the Fred Astaires and the Douglas Fairbankses) everybody entertained like mad, no matter what their political convictions. Franklin likes to tell the story of the beginning of his friendship with Victor Mature. Seems that a little polite panning of movie stars in general, and Betty Grable in particular, was going on ^0