Well my radio appearance of yesterday went rather well I think. The studio sent round a car that was all nice and toasty warm. And since the very expert doorman let me out from the heated lobby and nearly threw me into the automobile, I barely felt the ghastly cold at all. When I arrived I found I was to be interviewed by a lady. You can imagine my surprise; I didn't know that ladies were employed by the radio. I can't think of another one save that beastly Louella Parsons. And one wouldn't really call her a lady; she's merely female. I digress. But, then, I always do! Oh, la!
Well, my "lady of the press" was most charming and terribly, terribly chic. She was beautifully dressed and flawlessly made-up; her grooming was impeccable. And at such an hour. Eleven-thirty in the morning - can you imagine?! Now, I must confess, my darlings, that for a wee moment I had considered not making by usual full-on daytime toilette. The full fig, as it were. I thought perhaps, just this once, I could make do with something simpler. Something that I might wear about the house - slacks and a head scarf, even - throw a big sable coat over it all, and who's to be the wiser? And it was so very early. Thank heavens my better instincts took hold, as I would have been completely mortified! Especially when finding that my interviewer was a very attractive, well-dressed woman. I wouldn't have been able to speak for the shame, and the entire endeavor would have been a disaster. So let that be a lesson to you, my darlings: never, ever leave your humble abode until you are properly, faultlessly attired. That's a bit of advice you'll never regret following, I promise you.
We spoke of - well, I have no idea what we spoke of. But it was charming. And great fun. And I don't believe I was unduly indiscreet; I do have to be so very careful! Haha! Ah, well, I must run, my dearest darlings. Auf Wiedersehen, as the dreary Germans say. Until we meet again.
2 weeks ago
4 comments:
You were brilliant, Mummy! I listened to it all the way out here in Hol- Oops. Alright, yes, I'm still here. I do so want to do a little performing that includes headdresses. I haven't exactly landed a part yet, but I've met lots and lots of men, and Mother, the men in Hollywood are too, too dreamy! By the way, Cary says your speaking voice is lovely! I thought you sounded lovely too, although - funny - your voice sounded so low on the radio. Must be something with the airwaves.
So you are still in that beastly Hollywood! Really darling, why can't you be sensible? "Lots and lots of men"? That is not a comforting phrase to hear from one's daughter! Well, if you're still larking about with a certain Mr. Grant, I suppose you're likely to be quite safe! Hmmm....
Mummy has a tiny, wee cold. In the bosom. You know that always lowers my voice. So that must be it; I hope I didn't come out over the air sounding like Paul Robeson, for goodness sake! Did I? Glad you were able to listen in, pet. Yes I was good, wasn't I?
I heard you, too! I do agree with Penny, you were quite brilliant, dear.. and I think the wee cold you spoke of did add a charming timber to your "radio" voice! I did get a chuckle at the idea of you out and about in public in slacks and a head scarf.. I truly can't imagine it, though I did try.. oh yes I did. As for whether you were indiscreet in your interview.. not to worry, Mad ( and yes, I shall persist with this sobriquet, as I agree with Penny.. it's modern and fun!). You were elegant and so very continental, and I was thrilled to be able to pick it up on the wireless this far south.
Speaking of being this far south.. I wonder if I should motor up the coast and check on Penny. You seem quite comfortable with her spending so much time with Mr. Grant, but I, for one, do wonder about these film people. I had always thought so highly of Miss Lombard, and we all know how THAT turned out!
Well, take care, Mad... stay warm way up there in the hinterlands.. we hear of snow and ice and who knows what else!
"Mad"! Well, I suppose it is only to be expected from someone called "Lu". I am very glad you were able to hear me on the radio, though. It was jolly, wasn't it? At least they didn't ask me to sing - they always do, you know - but it wasn't even noon, for heaven's sake!
It appears that you know my daughter; I can't imagine how. If you see her, please do try and talk some sense into her. Tell her to abandon this foolish quest to work with that wretched Mr. Berkeley. I can't think what has gotten into her! Of course, there is madness on her father's side....
Post a Comment