Jean Patchett versus Bettie Page? Tough choice…

I read in the paper recently that the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York had its yearly Costume Institute gala to kick off a new exhibition, “The Model as Muse.”

Looking at the photos of some of today’s female celebrities at that party, I yearned for those muses of yesteryear…

Wow, between Rihanna in her tuxedo-like getup and leather gloves…(yeah, they go together)…

…and Madonna in her whatsis…

…it really must have been something of an ocular nightmare.

So I guess it’s time for us to recall a woman who really could function as a proper muse, right? Instead of females who could inspire nightmares or genetically alter one’s sexuality with the horror of their attire, much like Medusa turned men to stone…

(For full effect, imagine me reading all this to you in the Shakespearean tonalities of the late great John Carradine. I often hear his voice in my head when I write in a semi-pontifical, half-cracked pedagogical manner. See his performance as a grifting lecturer in Otto Preminger’s Fallen Angel for the prototype.)

Anyway, let’s attempt to get back on track…

Now, I yield to no man in my admiration for Bettie Page, the most famous pinup model of the 1950s…

In my career as a writer for adult magazines, I’m proud to say I first wrote about her back in 1977 for High Society magazine, long before her popular resurgence and elevation to iconic status…I also wrote about pinup artist Gil Elvgren (see my previous post about Barbara Hale) before he too was rediscovered for a new audience…my only regret is that I didn’t write even more about both, but just went onto other topics. I’m promiscuous that way…

Anyway, Bettie was vivacious, voluptuous, and saucy, but here’s a rare shot of her I found around the Web that shows her in a different mood…

She almost never looks like this in her photos—like a femme fatale. No, Bettie was more sunny in her pix, overall. Even when she wielded a whip in her fetish photos, she never looked too serious about it.

But let’s move on (at last, I hear the audience saying) to the muse for whom I am writing this particular post…another model in the 1950s, but for high fashion magazines, whom I have wanted to write about for years but never had a venue for until this blog.

Although I mostly collect vintage pinup and girlie mags, I have a small collection of 1950s fashion mags too, and that is where I discovered her…who, with her haughty yet subtly wry looks, narrow waist, and extraordinary ability to both wear the closely fitted clothes of the 1950s as well as project a mood in them, deserves to be equally famous as the late Miss Page.

Her name was Jean Patchett (1926-2002).


God, how I love this woman’s face.

“I’m Jean Patchett. You don’t darn it, you patch it.” With this down-home style of talk, she would introduce herself to editors and photographers. Despite her status as a supermodel of the 1950s, she was known to address people with, “Yes, ma’am.”No, sir.” She was not a diva. She showed up on time for her shoots, her hair coiffed and makeup done, as was the custom for fashion models back in those early days.

After trying her hand at college and secretarial work, she’d come to New York from Maryland in 1948, lived in a Methodist women’s rooming house for $13.50 a week, and quickly became a model with the recently established Ford Agency. She eventually did over 40 covers. This is possibly her most famous, by Erwin Blumenfeld. At the suggestion of art director Alexander Liberman, the shot was processed in such a way that it used her most memorable features—her eye, her lips, the mole on the left side of her mouth—to create an icon for the decade…

Her face was like a great novel: rich with subtext and shadings.

I don’t know where her mole goes in some of these shots, but sometimes at magazines, the makeup artists or retouchers come into play…

Here’s more…

I really love this one…

And this is pretty great…

She was admired in particular by photographer Irving Penn for her ability to inject “backstory” into a photo—to give a sense that the image was part of a longer narrative, like a movie still. This is one of her famous collaborations with Penn:

What is she thinking about as she nibbles on her pearls? She is so distracted that she is prettily dangling her right pump off her toes, too.

I guess you’ve gathered that I can get almost drunk on pictures of Jean Patchett…

And I want the rest of the world to get drunk on her, too.

Feel tipsy yet?

If I had to be stranded on a desert island just with photos to keep me company, it would be a touch choice: Jean Patchett’s, or Bettie Page’s? I need them both…I love Bettie’s curves and vivaciousness, but I also worship Jean’s hauteur tinged with humor. Not to mention that crazy waist…

Jean married a guy named Louis V. Auer, a young banker her own age who was living at the Yale Club and who sounds as if he were a character out of a John O’Hara novel. Even though she was a regular at the Stork Club, they had their first date at a luncheonette. They married in 1951. At the apex of her career, she made $50,000 a year—very good money in the 1950s. She retired from modeling in 1963 to take care of her children. Louis called her “Pancho”—the nickname evolving from from Patchett t0 Patcho to Pancho. He died in 2005.

“Pancho”—I can see that. Because what I detect in her pictures is a sense of humor. “Nobody could possibly be so haughty, but I’ll give it a try,” she seems to be saying as she perfects, in photo after photo, the steely gaze of a certain archetype of 50s femme.

I believe that if you look quickly, you can catch a glimpse of her walking into an office building in the 1959 girls-in-the-big-bad-city melodrama, The Best of Everything. Unlike Suzy Parker, the 50s supermodel who went onto an acting career and starred in that movie (which is one of the stylistic and dramatic prototypes for the cable drama Mad Men), Miss Patchett didn’t go onto a film career. But with her evocative photos, maybe that just would have been superfluous.

This shot is certainly a movie in itself. It’s more memorable than the entire Revolutionary Road movie with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, which I desperately wanted to be great because Richard Yates’ novel of 1950s suburban life is one of my very favorite books. It was good, but could have been better. I guess Kate Winslet is just no Jean Patchett!

But who could be, except Pancho?


I got the shot of Madonna here, and the picture of Rihanna here. The images of Bettie and Jean are from various blogs and sites. A quick look at Google Image Search will find you many sources for both of these lovely ladies. My blog is not for profit, and I use these pictures for historical and critical purposes only to illustrate my various passionate theses and theories about the beauty of the feminine through the ages! (Cue John Carradine.)


Barbara Hale does a great femme fatale!

I saw a 1956 crime movie over the weekend on TCM called The Houston Story. It was vaguely entertaining but mostly mediocre, a half-baked drama of a mobster wannabe played by Gene Barry. But it had two memorable elements in it: Edward Arnold as a chuckling mob kingpin, and Barbara Hale as a platinum-haired nightclub thrush and femme fatale.

This is one of my concepts of the perfect woman.

I kinda remember Barbara Hale from playing Della Street, the Gal Friday on the old Perry Mason show with Raymond Burr in the 50s and 60s…but actually I don’t remember that show very well because while I was growing up I was more interested in the Twilight Zone, Outer Limits, Ben Casey, and 12 O’Clock High and magazines like Famous Monsters of Filmland and giant comic book creatures like Fin Fang Foom. But I loved Barbara as a naughty minx in this movie when I saw it last night in my current state of maturation as a 57-year-old connoisseur of noirishly deceptive doxies. Yes, my eyes have been opened to an actress whose other works I must readily explore.

Barbara sings the same song in The Houston Story that made Rita Hayworth famous in Gilda a decade earlier, “Put the Blame on Mame,” and Barb’s equally sexy in a sultrier, more “MILFy” kind of way.

This is from the trailer for The Houston Story.

This is from the trailer for The Houston Story.

I don’t know if Miss Hale really sang the song or it was dubbed, but the camera stays on her in closeup the whole time, and her facial expressions, and the way she moves her mouth and the way the light flatters her gorgeous cheekbones, made it something I’m glad I recorded on the DVR. If you get to see this movie when it shows up again on TCM, watch how she moves her lips on the word “boys” in the lyric, “Put the blame on Mame, boys…”

In her other scenes in the flick, she really brings the tough babe to rich life with everything from the smallest furrowing of her brow to the freshening of her lipstick. What a dame!

Looking her up on the web after seeing the movie, I found some of these shots at a great tribute site called Big Dave’s Barbara Hale Annex. I also read somewhere else that she may have been a model back in the 1940s for the famed pinup calendar painter Gil Elvgren, the creator of timeless works like this (which can be found at the fine site Pinup Files).

It's a sad day when a grown man envies a cocker spaniel...

It's a sad day when a grown man envies a cocker spaniel...

Well, with Barb’s stems and that wholesome but saucy face, I can sure believe that Elvgren, who was to pinups what Michelangelo was to ceilings, would have loved her!

With women like this on their side, how could our soldiers NOT have beaten the Axis?

With women like this on their side, how could our World War 2 soldiers NOT have beaten the Axis?

Can Mila Kunis have a truly interesting career in 21st century Hollywood?

Although this is a history-oriented blog that spans as many of the centuries as I can wrap my mind around, my absorption and interest in movie actresses is a continuing theme. In fact, I sometimes wonder why I’m not just writing a blog about movies. Maybe because there are more than enough movie blogs already. Or perhaps I just don’t want to limit my drooling to females from only the last hundred years or so. For example, how could I have written one of my most popular posts, about Onorata Rodiana, the beautiful crossdressing mercenary and fresco painter of the Italian Renaissance, if I had to be stuck in the 20th and 21st centuries? I get restless to wander…and boy, if I really had a time machine, would I ever use it!

In any case, a history perspective is useful in contemplating what chance a talented young actress has today for making a truly memorable and varied career such as the stars of the Golden Age enjoyed. Can such a thing be done?

Last night I saw a somewhat feeble comedy (?) called Forgetting Sarah Marshall, about a young guy’s attempt to bring closure to his broken heart after his girlfriend dumps him. In the course of taking a vacation to “get away from it all,” our hapless hero Peter (played by Jason Segel, who actually shows his “peter” in a full-frontal scene) decides to go to the same Hawaiian resort that his ex is at with her current rock-star stud-muffin. But as the mechanics of fantasy-fulfillment screenwriting would have it, the annoyingly whiny Peter gets to meet and mate with the absolutely gorgeous hotel desk clerk (Mila Kunis). He finds in her not only the beauty, but all the better personal qualities, that were missing in his ex—things he did not realize during all the time he was living with her.

The movie wasn’t very good, but I sat there for two hours watching it because I wanted to look at Mila, and hear Mila talk. And watch her laugh, and move, and do double-takes and scrunch her brow in disbelief at the antics of Peter.

Immediately after watching the movie I looked her up on the Web. I don’t watch much tv or many current movies, so her oeuvre was a mystery to me. Of course, after observing her deft timing and vivacious eyes and smile in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, I was eager to see what else I could check out. Looks like she’s going to be in something called Zombieland, has appeared with Ben Affleck in a flick called Extract (compelling title, no?), and is now shooting The Book of Eli with Denzel Washington. That last one sounds like a barrel of laffs.


Extract. (I think it already came out, but I’m not sure.)

The Book of Eli.

See what I mean by the title of this post?

If this were 1946 she would be cranking out one interesting film after another, melodramas, crime films, comedies, tearjerkers, westerns, Arabian Nights potboilers. She’d probably be under the yoke of a studio but she would rapidly have a body of films on which her fans could feast until they were gorged. Instead…



The Book of Eli.

No, no, no…Miss Kunis is a movie goddess in the making! She deserves so much more!

Ye gods! Put her in a remake of Demetrius and the Gladiators as the cunning Empress Messalina! Put her in a remake of the old Ann Sheridan noir classic Nora Prentiss, playing a nightclub singer for whom a stuffy doctor ruins his life! Put her in a remake of Topper, playing a sprightly ghost! Put her in a remake of The Lady Eve, in the Barbara Stanwyck role of the con woman falling in love with her mark! I say Mila’s got the chops for it.

Don’t give me Zombieland, Extract, or The Book of Eli. Or at least, give me more than that!

I’m not actually asking for remakes of those classic films, but rather flicks with similar types of meaty stories to satisfy our appetites for variety, spice, and zest! It’s called entertainment.

Hey, put Mila in a movie about Onorata Rodiana! She’d be great at stabbing a lecherous aristocrat who interrupts her fresco-painting!

But why should Hollywood listen to me? It’s making more money than it ever has, so it must be doing something right, right?


Put Mila in a swashbuckler as a scheming countess! Put her in a jungle movie as a daring adventuress! Let her soar, and audiences will soar with her into that paradise of cinema that her beauty and talent deserve!

And by all means, let her play a beautiful nun sometime!!!