Modern Screen Magazine. When Sandra Dee's friends see a Rolls Royce parked in the curve of her driveway they know she's at home. She never felt at home in the homes her mother lived in, because, Sandra says, . As the saying goes, you could eat off the floor. Not until I was five years old was I allowed in the.
My bedroom had a lavender velvet carpet. And alabaster angels supported the canopy of my gold and white bed! He came home blinded, temporary at least, by some liquid plumbing. I was determined to have a house in which a kid and his friends could feel free.
And I, at last, would be at home! Everybody does, I guess. Today a lot of my stuff is in the houses and garages of any friend good enough to store it.
From Thomas the Rhymer (retold by Mary MacGregor, 1908) 'Under the Eildon tree Thomas met the lady,' illustration by Katherine Cameron.
I'm careful never to mention this in case they might ask when I plan to use it. The answer is 'never!'. A cement lattice, a combination of modern and Oriental styles, covers its length from the side driveway to the green and gold front door. Close to the door a palm tree grows as high as the house. At the shallow steps there are dwarf palms and ferns. Dodd and his friends use it to change and shower.
Dodd also keeps his paraphernalia there- -his bike and bats, rackets and skates. In his room there's no space for one more thing.
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Ten- year- olds seem to have a compulsion for collecting.! I wanted to be on level terrain. So Dodd could ride his bike without me calling to watch for traffic on curves and to be very careful about grades- -so that he wouldn't go flying off into a canyon. To the right, projecting lattice screens separate the. Sandra values. On the left, conventional doors admit you to a gold and white powder room with soft blue fixtures, Dodd's. Sandra's suite. At the end of the hall- -and wide open to it- -is the pine.
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Sandra says, be called the living room. The side walls have recessed bookshelves. The rear wall is a floor to ceiling window.
She's recently gone into real estate. With her love of houses she should do well! But when it comes to games I'm usually up on him. He'd been so quiet we had not realized he was in the house.
As he approached- -a strongly built young man and a most fortunate combination of his mother and father- -he smoothed a flowing black mustache. On my mother's birthday he was so sick our vet advised against any change. Anyway I couldn't very well have presented my mother with a dog that might be dying.
So Dodd and I nursed him. And he became our child. And Mom got another present. I really said no when he asked if the dogs might come in. I don't generally have trouble refusing him.
He's going to New York for a couple of weeks. It will be our first real separation, nothing like his going to sleep over at a friend's house. That he does all the time.
Earlier today he came into my room and dragged me out here, Saying, 'Sit with me for a little!'. Then he'll be with friends in the country. But week days he'll be in the city, and I'm just not relaxed about him being in Central Park, in traffic. I don't want to spoil his trip. And most certainly I don't want him to get any notion he has to stick around and take care of Mom. For years, Ross was Sandra's guiding light. And he has great empathy with his stars.
Not only does he, in subtle and generous ways, encourage their appreciation of beauty in all forms, he encourages them to value themselves as individuals. It is her office Sandra said. Ordinarily the housekeeper presides here, but Sandra frequently will take over the cooking- -she finds it relaxing and exciting and not at all a chore. A bottle of tobasco doesn't last long around here. I've always had a passion for it; at 1. I used to consume big spoonfuls of it along with cherry peppers- they go into my chili, too. It gets to be pretty hot.
Not too hot for Dodd or me, however. When I saw it in a shop I went slightly mad for it. So maybe it really wasn't an extravagance. The chairs were then covered in a beige silk, so perishable even water stained it.
I had them done over in this rough green and yellow fabric, which doesn't show dirt. They came with the house. But until I know exactly what I want I'll live with them. On the wall across from the commode, between gold sconces with more green candles, hung a porcelain mosaic. A bowl of white and yellow flowers- -carefully chosen by Ross Hunter not only for its beauty but for Sandra's decor- -sits on a low teak table. It would appear to be left over or, perhaps, a hang over, from the days when Sandra lived elegantly with her mother and wealthy stepfather. Or of the elegance with which she was surrounded during her years as Mrs.
A gold sofa, piled with gold pillows and a little needlepoint pillow of a blue and yellow butterfly, fits around the bend in the wall. A coffee table follows the sofa's line. At either end of the sofa gleaming crystal chandeliers hang low. On the floor, in front of the coffee table, are two large.
Each branch is tipped with tiny, winking and blinking lights; red and green, white and yellow. I convinced them they'd had the display and it was time to sell it- -to me! I had to do something!
For months I hadn't worked professionally. And when you've worked, as I have, practically ever since you can remember, you get used to having something to do when you wake up in the morning.
When you don't you're at odds with yourself. Was I ever at odds with myself! But I was scared to start again.
I'd never learned how to handle myself, go after the job I wanted. That was my big problem. Everything I'd ever had or done had been dropped smack in my lap. Maybe it was, for it got me started. But it didn't prepare me to square my shoulders for a change.
Which is no good at all! Things happened to her the way they happen in romantic novels. She caught the eye, too, of Oleg Cassini, who invited the Douvans to his table and asked her to model one of his originals at a society fashion show, and, incidentally, wear a $1.
Naturally, Sandra couldn't say no. And, in rapid succession, she appeared on the cover of seven national magazines.
And, despite the protests of her mother and Universal studios they were married. Until Karen Valentine convinced her to appear on Hollywood Squares.
With Karen off on a summer tour there wasn't anyone to reassure me. Then, unbelievably, in Karen walked. She was on that show, too. Paul Lynde, such an angel, saw I was jittery, and kept talking to me. I was so interested I didn't hear them call my name. When they repeated it and I realized I was the Secret Square my mouth went 'Awk!'.
Again I was out in midstream. Before long I was doing TV movies, like Love American Style and The Daughters of Joshua Mc. Cabe. I don't expect ever to make it again! Your mustache will smear that velvet!'. Instantly he raised his head and examined the pillow.
Then, loping back to his room, he called, . It provides a lovely background for friends and me when we put on our party faces and long skirts or dinner jackets.
Otherwise I'm never in here. He and his friends can play the drums, his guitar, his stereo or his TV with no worry that they'll disturb anyone. They're off by themselves.
When a friend comes for the weekend they descend on me as soon as I sit down on the terrace with my morning coffee. Since my terrace adjoins the terrace outside of the den I can't fault them if they just happen to be out there and, seeing me, come over to say good morning. They can on occasion have such impeccable manners!
They may hanker for another trip down to Laguna Hills and Lion Country. They may prefer to go ocean swimming, at Malibu or Santa Monica. They may want to go to the movies. Whatever and wherever I chauffeur them, like any mother. Which is why I drive a four- -door sedan instead of a sporty model. I've been wanting to see that!' They had the grace to look embarrassed when they explained it would be quite alright for me to see it, provided I didn't walk in with them or sit with them!
The top of the chest that faces the beds, with a built- in TV, is piled with Sports Illustrated, every issue published since he turned 8 years old. On his bedside table, neatly stacked around an orange- pink lamp, are ball- player cards. He must have a hundred. A long marble vanity has two basins. The lavatory is enclosed. There's a pink rug, deeply piled.
A little chair is practically and charmingly upholstered in pink plastic. The twin white lamps on the bedside tables have sapphire blue shades, an attractive accent in that pink room. There's a long chest of drawers, in antique white, and a low barrel chair in front of the large window- wall that opens to her terrace, the blue pool and the pink roses. Only recently has she come to be on intimate terms with herself, to know surely what she wants and how she wants it.
To all this her house bears witness. It is a dramatic reaction to every other house she has ever lived in, and is planned for comfort and charm, freedom and fun. For Dodd and especially for her. Adele Whitely Fletcher.