by Kim Krizan
Appropriate Ensembles for Every Occasion
Meeting Handsome Strangers on the Train
Beige short-sleeved dress, belted. Short gold necklace and earrings. Beige coat.
Beige gloves. Lavish white fur.
Beige pillbox hat with large broach.
(As worn by Ellen, played by Gene Tierney in “Leave Her to Heaven.”)
Taking Her Crime Boss Husband to the Train Station
White dress with gathered bust, short bolero jacket, white fur, dark basket purse and dark shoes,
long wavy hair, white gloves, barrette in hair.
(As worn by Anna, played by Yvonne De Carlo in “Criss Cross.”)
Go by Boat
The femme fatale would rather die than be trapped on one of those modern and inaccurately-described “vacation” cruises. On the other hand, traveling from one point to another on a utilitarian liner is so much more fulfilling to the femme fatale’s dark soul, for she’s likely to come across truly amusing characters.
Still, truly glamorous boating once existed. The remnants can be felt on what are now floating museums such as the Queen Mary, which rests in the port of Long Beach, California. The grand old girl (who is named after Queen Elizabeth’s grandmother) still has a working and rather Deco bar, fine dining, and what once had to be a gloriously elegant dance floor. It is also said to be haunted by ghosts—some no doubt the spirits of Fatales who terrorized genteel travelers.
Anaïs Nin absolutely adored boats and carried on numerous trysts while traveling back and forth between France and America in the ’30s. She even purchased a houseboat that she kept docked on Paris’ romantic Seine and it was used specifically for her trysts with Gonzalo More (who was a secret boyfriend kept from her other secret boyfriend, Henry Miller).
Appropriate Ensembles for Every Occasion
Sailing for an Exotic Seaport to Avoid Spending Time in the Pokey
Checked, double-breasted skirt suit with huge white belt and large white buttons.
White cloche hat dripping white feathers.
White heels and mounds of jewelry.
Exaggerated eye make-up and large, painted-on mole.
Of utmost importance: Lipstick is drawn above
and below lip-line into an enlarged sneer.
(As worn by Sadie Thompson, played by Joan Crawford in “Rain.”)
Get on a Plane
Planes these days are just buses in the sky. Airports, on the other hand, are some of the more interesting places on earth. Human beings in transit are both under stress and excitable, therefore their true natures are on display. The cacophony of accents, both foreign and domestic, and the constant possibility of bombs is nothing less than exciting. Heading through scores of check-out points where she is treated like a criminal makes her feel right at home, as do the waits, which seem nothing less than a metaphor for life.
The Fatale Ride
The femme fatale generally doesn’t care how she gets there—or gets outta there. A Rolls or an old jalopy? A well-weathered cab or a shiny black sedan? The point is that she gets from point A to point B—and pronto. But if she has the dough to acquire an unmistakably fatal ride, there are particular makes and models that will do the trick:
The Duesenberg
The awesomely beautiful Duesenberg is the ultimate Fatale ride, particularly the sleek 1936 SJN Convertible Coupe and especially one with a black exterior and a cream interior. The Duesenberg was built in America to compete with European luxury brands and was considered the world’s finest automobile. The car is elegant in the extreme and her mascot (the symbolic figure that rides on the nose of the hood) is an abstract bird in a predatory dive. Dee-vine.
Stars of ’36
1936 must have been a particularly good year for Fatales. Along with the Duesenberg, ’36 also gave birth to the Hupmobile sedan—the kind of vehicle in which a gun moll would peel away. Likewise, the ’36 Ford 68 Deluxe Roadster was great-looking, inexpensive, and fast as hell. In fact the little roadster was so fast and so reliable that Clyde Barrow (of Bonnie and Clyde fame) wrote to Henry Ford and praised his 68 Deluxe. (And what better compliment than to receive glowing thanks from a man who has used your vehicle for the purpose of speeding away from bank robberies.)
The ’30 Cord
Elegant is the word for the 1930 Cord L29 Town Car. Dolores Del Rio (a spectacularly beautiful Mexican Fatale who came to Hollywood and ruled in silent films during the 1920s) owned one, and Del Rio was known for her impeccable and exotic good taste. The ’30 Cord is absolutely to-die-for with a shiny black exterior and a brown leather interior.
A Custom-Fit ’53 Caddy with a Ghia Coach from Ali Khan
In spite of her devastatingly sexy image and multiple marriages, Rita Hayworth was described by those who knew her as, at heart, a very simple girl. Still, dear Rita didn’t exactly drive a junker. No, she drove a 1953 Cadillac Series 62 Coupe that had been custom-fit with a Ghia coach. Lord, it was gorgeous with its maroon exterior and buttery tan leather interior. Third husband Ali Khan, son of the equivalent to the Muslim version of the Pope, bought the car for Rita before she left him, which goes to show what men are really for.
The Gullwing
While living in Spain in the ’50s, Ava Gardner had a Gullwing Mercedes. Ava, somewhat accustomed to drinking and driving, managed to roll her Gullwing one day in a spectacular cartwheel, not once but several times. Finally the thing came to a standstill on its roof with Ava trapped inside by the “gullwing” doors, which were unbudgeable given the upside-down state of things. Fortunately, some good Samaritans came running out of the Spanish fields to extract Ava from the wreckage. She was fine. (It was the bullfighting that scarred her face—not the car wrecks.) What could be more exciting?
The Sports Saloon
In 1967 the Rolls-Royce company manufactured the Silver Shadow/Sports Saloon. Any automobile referred to as a “saloon” is just too good to be believed. It was a two-door coupe and only twenty were offered that year in the United States. The car screams “big money” and is awfully cute in ruby red. This is the option for the Fatale who manages to knock off some rich guy.
Dietrich’s Ride
After she arrived in Hollywood in the early ’30s, the great M. D.’s first car was a Rolls-Royce that was driven by a liveried chauffeur. A couple years later she had a long Cadillac custom-built for her. For Fatale elegance every bleeding inch of the way she laid a white fur rug on the floor of her car (though her heels sometimes got caught in its long hairs and caused her to trip as she attempted soignee appearances before a rapt public). In 1967, Dietrich had a Ghia 450 SS custom built. Later in her life, the oh-so-seductive chanteuse ruled in a Cadillac Town Car.
Appropriate Ensembles for Every Occasion
Joyriding with Her Drug-dealer Boyfriend’s New Employee
White skirt suit with tie-belt. White shoes with peek-a-boo toes.
White broad-brimmed hat. White envelope purse.
Crucial detail: Hair is cut in Cleopatra bob with long, straight bangs.
(As worn by Elvira Hancock, played by Michelle Pfeiffer in “Scarface.”)
A Lair Away from Home
Hotel and motel rooms, whether four-star or total dive, suit the femme fatale perfectly. She’s on the move so much, searching and in transition either psychically or literally, that for her hotels and motels have romantic ambiance. They are the waystations to some place better.
The best hotel or motel for the Fatale is some anonymous place on the road, one that bears no resemblance whatsoever to its name. If it’s called “Palm Place” there are no palm trees. If the sign reads “Shady Glen” there will be very little shade. “Pine Court”? No pine trees. “Hideaway Shores”? No water and it isn’t hidden away. And “Paradise Place”? The place is anything but paradise.
When Lucille LeSueur first came to Los Angeles via train she was taken to the Washington Hotel, which stood within walking distance of her new studio in Culver City. Today, this “hotel” is
the refuge of what appear to be crack addicts and the people running the place don’t recognize the name “Joan Crawford.” Still, one can imagine the little taxi dancer who would become Crawford living in one of those rooms and dreaming dreams big enough to become one of the most effective forces of will (a key trait of Fatalism) in all of Hollywood history.
Garbo, playing a tormented ballerina, fell in love with a thief while resting in her beautiful room in “Grand Hotel.” Ruth/Brigid, played by Mary Astor in the “Maltese Falcon,” stayed in a hotel, leaving her suitcase open and her lingerie in plain sight for the enjoyment of her detective. And Ann Savage’s Vera crunched some serious numbers while harbored in a shabby motel in “Detour.”
Appropriate Ensembles for Every Occasion
Scheming and Crunching Numbers in Hotel Room
Light-colored robe, elaborately draped,
and with many colored buttons.
(As worn by Vera, played by Ann Savage in “Detour.”)
Great Femme Fatale Haunts
She’s probably just arrived from the dangerous and unknowable Orient. Or she just got off the bus whose journey originated in some backwater town in Louisiana or Iowa where God-knows-what happened to her. Or she had “business” with “art dealers” in Morocco and now she’s gotta meet a guy named “Tino” so she can secure plans to sail “East” by way of Frisco. It’s all very vague, where she’s been and what she’s done, but she’s moving on to crummier pastures. Slim, played by Lauren Bacall in “To Have and Have Not,” is stuck on the Caribbean island of Martinique and trying to pick-pocket her way home. She’s just come from Trinidad. Before Trinidad she was slinking around Rio. Was the place hot, humid, riddled with poverty, availed of piano bars and lonely, hollow-eyed men? Then she was there.
China is described in “Shanghai Express” as a place where “time and life have no value,” and what better describes the femme fatale’s attitude? Singapore, Hong Kong, Cheefoo, and Macao are typical Fatale haunts. Other contenders are Africa, Spain, Acapulco, Buenos Aires, and Java. The whole South Pacific is a perfect place to get lost. And what’s not to love about Moscow (don’t forget the Kremlin), Siberia, St. Petersburg, or Prague? The Ice Hotel in Sweden is right up the Fatale’s alley for a fantastic misadventure, while the Nile is always appropriate for floating down in a barge while being fanned by scantily-dressed slaves. Tangier is just brimming with opportunity for Fatale adventure. Italy knows all about the femme fatale. The deep South breeds great Fatales, what with the humidity and delicious social repression. Las Vegas isn’t called “Sin City” for nothin’. New Orleans, New York, and San Francisco are favored by Fatales—as well as Salem, Mass., naturellement. And Fatale girls everywhere will always have Paris.
In the movies, Fatales are forever “going out to California” and “hitchhiking to Los Angeles,” and certainly Hollywood is a place to which old Fatales return to die, much like salmon who swim upstream for one last ante up before being chewed by bears.
Shanghai: The Buckle on the Fatale-Belt
Certainly, the fatal lady will want to visit Shanghai in the People’s Republic of China, the mother of all Fatale lairs. One of the largest cities in the world, Shanghai is famous for gangsters, corruption, casinos, drugs, and brothels. It is referred to as “Sin City,” “Queen of the Orient,” and—most enticingly —“Whore of Asia.”
Some of the greatest Fatales have made it a point to spend time in the venerable “Whore of Asia.” Shanghai Lily (of “Shanghai Express”) was a notorious “coaster,” a woman who “lives by her wits along the China coast,” and was also described as “the notorious white flower of China.” Beautiful Rosalee/Elsa (of “The Lady from Shanghai”) gambled for a living in the city and cryptically proclaims, “You need more than luck in Shanghai.” Mother Gin Sling (of “Shanghai Gesture”) is the proprietress of an international gambling establishment patronized by a dangerous pastiche of Eastern decadents. But if the modern femme fatale can’t get to Shanghai, she must at least lie and say she’s been there.
Contents of the Femme Fatale’s Suitcase
(for a Fast Getaway)
First and foremost, the Fatale must have a suitcase that doesn’t weigh her down while she’s slipping through dark alleys. It must never be entrusted to porters or baggage-check. For one thing, its secret pockets probably conceal contraband. For another thing, this suitcase might contain everything she owns in the whole world.
Chic neutral colors are the only way to travel. Rose Loomis, played by Marilyn Monroe in “Niagara,” had buff-colored luggage with black trim. Of course it contained nothing but filmy slips and skin-tight dresses, but at least on the surface it seemed innocuous.
Assuming that the Fatale travels wearing attractive street clothing, here’s what must be packed inside her suitcase:
•A black cocktail dress
•Dressy heels
•An envelope purse
•A negligee and satin mules
•Crimson lipstick
•Eyebrow pencil
•Mirrored powder compact
•A beret
•Gloves
•Sunglasses
•Some light reading to relax her before bedtime, such as “Why They Kill: The Discoveries of a Maverick Criminologist” by Richard Rhodes or the comic strip “The Spirit” by Will Eisner
And, finally:
•A secret agenda
Appropriate Ensembles for Every Occasion
Hiding from Her Gangster Boyfriend in Acapulco
Pale dress with a sweetheart neckline and jewels clipped to its two corners.
Large matching picture hat with a bow in back.
Charm bracelet. Matching envelope bag.
(As worn by Kathie, played by Jane Greer in “Out of the Past.”)
What Becomes Fatale Most ?
A Meditation on the Femme Fatale’s Future
“We’re starting all over.”
— Kathie, played by Jane Greer in “Out of the Past”
What is the femme fatale but a living, breathing woman who became legendary? What is she but a girl who, by means of one or two willful acts, became mythic? And to propel that legend and myth into the future, to make it truly timeless, the Fatale must carry the show through to the bitter end. She can achieve this goal by staying true to her game, not losing steam in her advancing years, and—crucially—paying attention to the all-important dénouement.
Starting Over
Femme fatales are forever starting over, forever trying to get someplace else, because there is nothing like starting again in a new locale where she doesn’t know anyone and no one knows her. A new port, a new town, a new man, a new name, a new wardrobe… Fatale ladies cherish the opportunity to begin afresh. She can reinvent herself as a nice person or as a naughty one as she sees fit. She can leave the relationships and selves of the past buried in a shallow grave. And perhaps that’s the femme fatale’s best trick: walking away. As she enters each new world, she discovers an elusive, unachieved layer of desire within herself. And so she’s back to scheming and cavorting—scheming and cavorting for a better life.
Advancing Into This Bad Night
In youth the femme fatale-to-be was probably a dip-shit romantic like every other girl on the planet. If she lacked a truly horrific childhood, abominable love affairs, or otherwise terrible life experiences, it may take the poor thing some time to acquire the necessary edge to become truly Fatale. The good news is that as she ages, being Fatale will become easier. She’ll fall prey to fewer annoying girly hormones that convert her into a people-pleasing ninny and hurl her into asinine relationships. As the years roll on, experience will lend an attractive world-weariness to her visage and attitude. It will become so much easier to be bad.
To age is to feel trapped in one of Kafka’s novels and to experience punishment for a crime one can’t remember committing. The little girl insecurities become full-blown neuroses, accompanied by red lipstick and high heels. But she will, if she plays
her cards right, exude more gravitas. She’ll care a whole lot less what people think, will brook fewer idiots, and will do whatever the hell she wants. Women will continue to fear her but will become a lot more solicitous. Middle-aged and older men imbued with money and status suddenly become fans. Younger men view her as wonderfully exotic and intimidating. What more could she want?
Older women know a lot and that in itself is dangerous and seductive—that is, if one avoids the harmless grandma trap. There’s no need to be a harmless grandma—ever. Think Jeanne Moreau, sexy as all get-out, even with wrinkles and yellow teeth. Or think Catherine Denueve, sexy as all get-out sans wrinkles and yellow teeth. Think of Anaïs Nin, beautiful and powerful and juggling two men at seventy. Think of Dietrich, still commandeering “The Image” from bed as a hermitically-sealed Fatale. And don’t forget “Miriam,” played by Catherine Deneuve in “The Hunger,” her placid soul hundreds of years old (which proves that the femme fatale can don hip sunglasses and descend smoky clubs at any age).
Joan Collins, who’d had a career as nubile starlet, wanton sex kitten, and “The Bitch” (sequel to “The Stud”), did not let a little thing like her impending fiftieth birthday rain on her parade. Instead, she took the part of Alexis Carrington Colby, femme fatale extraordinaire, and proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that a woman of “d’certain age” can stay in the ring with the best of the bright young things. Alexis was always beautiful, sexy, confident, and well-turned-out, and while some have called her the ultimate b-i-t-c-h, it’s fair to say that she was merely a girl who stood up for herself, giving as good or better than she got—and having a wonderful time doing it. And Joanie, the real woman behind the part, didn’t let even her impending seventieth birthday cramp her style; instead, she married a gorgeous guy in his thirties. Game over. You win, Joan Collins.