todayiamadaisy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
todayiamadaisy) wrote2010-02-22 03:38 pm
todayiamadaisy) wrote2010-02-22 03:38 pm
Lady table-hoppers
I've just finished reading Joan Crawford's My Way of Life. Joan's way of life was awesome, in case you're wondering. Joan didn't like visitors dropping in unannounced, so in that sense she was just like me. However, then I read something like this and realise, no, she wasn't like me at all:
I discovered that I must have instilled a few of the social graces in the children when I let the twins take charge of their own ninth birthday party... They invited the whole of the first class and decided on the menu by themselves. There was vodka and caviar, a clear soup, New York cut steak with a large selection of vegetables, a salad, and cheese trays -- accompanied by a good red wine. Finally there was a tremendous birthday cake for all the guests, and Dom Perignon. I didn't suggest a bit of it to them. It was entirely their own menu.
Right.
The book is, as the title suggests, just Joan outlining her day-to-day life. Handy tips for living. It intersperses moments of common sense (look after your clothes and they'll last longer, regular exercise is good for you) between moments of utter madness. It's brilliant.
Joan instructs us on the importance of having a 'yes' face, an agreeable countenance to give an impression of youth. To achieve this, 'open your mouth as wide as you can and at the same time purse your lips as if you're trying to whistle. Hold it for ten seconds.' (But! 'For heaven's sake be sure you're alone when you do these, because you'll look ridiculous.' Thanks for that, Joan.)
Joan has a particular dislike of 'lady table-hoppers': women who leave their table at a restaurant to go and say hello to friends at another table. There is nothing (Joan's italics) more undignified. Don't do that, f-list, or Joan will be upset. You can, if you must, smile across the room if you see a friend, and he can stop at your table on the way out if he has time.
Some of my favourite bits:
- about her fourth husband: 'When he came home I was well groomed, fragrant, feminine. He never saw a laundry bag, a dust cloth, or a hair curler. I hope he never knew that such things existed!'
- advice on marriage: 'Make your husband talk about his work. Drag it out of him, if you have to. But, you're saying, my husband's a cashier. How can I take an interest in that? Well, for openers, you might say, "Any holdups today?"'
- on serving food: 'A red vegetable next to a yellow one looks unappetizing.'
- about a well-dressed friend: 'She's suitably dressed for every occasion... from a party for Haile Selassie to a White House banquet.'
- about the importance of packing suitcases in natural light: 'In artificial light when I'm in a hurry it's too easy to grab the wrong accessories and find myself in Kansas City or San Juan with a hot pink dress and a shocking pink hat -- and that's a catastrophe.'
- on putting together a jazzy outfit: 'I always get a yard and half extra of the fabric I've ordered for a new dress. Half a yard for gloves and a yard for a turban...'
- sage advice: 'That old saw, "When in doubt, don't," is never so true as when it comes to clothes. Or getting married.'
- on having a 'getting fit' competition with friends: 'A woman will give up anything -- from a fudge sundae to a dry martini or a grilled-cheese sandwich -- to beat her fellow club members to a slim finish. She may lose a friend or two, but she'll gain loveliness, and her husband's pride and admiration. That's worth a couple of fat friends!'
- on cleaning: '... I still have only one [maid] in my present eight rooms. Once a week we have men to come in and move the heavy furniture and do all the heavy cleaning and polishing -- twice a week if I entertain much.'
Sadly, I've combed the book but I can't find again my favourite quote, about how all you need to face the world is to put on a hat and say, 'I'm Joan Crawford.' Advice we should all follow.
Seriously, f-list, everyone should read this book.
I discovered that I must have instilled a few of the social graces in the children when I let the twins take charge of their own ninth birthday party... They invited the whole of the first class and decided on the menu by themselves. There was vodka and caviar, a clear soup, New York cut steak with a large selection of vegetables, a salad, and cheese trays -- accompanied by a good red wine. Finally there was a tremendous birthday cake for all the guests, and Dom Perignon. I didn't suggest a bit of it to them. It was entirely their own menu.
Right.
The book is, as the title suggests, just Joan outlining her day-to-day life. Handy tips for living. It intersperses moments of common sense (look after your clothes and they'll last longer, regular exercise is good for you) between moments of utter madness. It's brilliant.
Joan instructs us on the importance of having a 'yes' face, an agreeable countenance to give an impression of youth. To achieve this, 'open your mouth as wide as you can and at the same time purse your lips as if you're trying to whistle. Hold it for ten seconds.' (But! 'For heaven's sake be sure you're alone when you do these, because you'll look ridiculous.' Thanks for that, Joan.)
Joan has a particular dislike of 'lady table-hoppers': women who leave their table at a restaurant to go and say hello to friends at another table. There is nothing (Joan's italics) more undignified. Don't do that, f-list, or Joan will be upset. You can, if you must, smile across the room if you see a friend, and he can stop at your table on the way out if he has time.
Some of my favourite bits:
- about her fourth husband: 'When he came home I was well groomed, fragrant, feminine. He never saw a laundry bag, a dust cloth, or a hair curler. I hope he never knew that such things existed!'
- advice on marriage: 'Make your husband talk about his work. Drag it out of him, if you have to. But, you're saying, my husband's a cashier. How can I take an interest in that? Well, for openers, you might say, "Any holdups today?"'
- on serving food: 'A red vegetable next to a yellow one looks unappetizing.'
- about a well-dressed friend: 'She's suitably dressed for every occasion... from a party for Haile Selassie to a White House banquet.'
- about the importance of packing suitcases in natural light: 'In artificial light when I'm in a hurry it's too easy to grab the wrong accessories and find myself in Kansas City or San Juan with a hot pink dress and a shocking pink hat -- and that's a catastrophe.'
- on putting together a jazzy outfit: 'I always get a yard and half extra of the fabric I've ordered for a new dress. Half a yard for gloves and a yard for a turban...'
- sage advice: 'That old saw, "When in doubt, don't," is never so true as when it comes to clothes. Or getting married.'
- on having a 'getting fit' competition with friends: 'A woman will give up anything -- from a fudge sundae to a dry martini or a grilled-cheese sandwich -- to beat her fellow club members to a slim finish. She may lose a friend or two, but she'll gain loveliness, and her husband's pride and admiration. That's worth a couple of fat friends!'
- on cleaning: '... I still have only one [maid] in my present eight rooms. Once a week we have men to come in and move the heavy furniture and do all the heavy cleaning and polishing -- twice a week if I entertain much.'
Sadly, I've combed the book but I can't find again my favourite quote, about how all you need to face the world is to put on a hat and say, 'I'm Joan Crawford.' Advice we should all follow.
Seriously, f-list, everyone should read this book.