Decca, p.53
Decca, page 53
Back to the characters. Of course once you get to know them they become individuals but Barb not terribly individual; it’s more a sort of democracy (or diversity) of the very rich. There is a range of accents. A lot of deep-south complacent whines (complaisant is in contrast to the deep-south shrill whine, there is a difference I’m sure, based on money), a lot of the Ohio sort of nasal tone, and a fair amount of what I can only describe [as] the New York-Westchester County upper-class snort and flounce. A few anglicized—not quite English but almost, brought up here probably. The help mostly have foreeen ac-cents, either Swedish or French.
One thing I can’t help wondering, as I note the faces round the pool, is this: Won’t the lady with the cross face and bedraggled neck look exactly the same, at least to everyone but herself? And as for the real tubs of butter (a minority, I mean the ones 50 to 75 lbs overweight) won’t they soon revert? I fear it’s a bit like taking Koko to the vet for his bath & clip, only lasts till the next bath and clip. And the nice bovine freckled girl (35-ish, one of the youngies) will ever be nice, bovine and freckled, I think….
At meals, I try to change company each time to case them the better. Had lunch today with the cultured, symphony-supporting set; they were exchanging notes about committee work, activities of Junior League etc. in their various home towns. They all agreed about the ridiculous, absurd amount of money spent on hospitals, mental care and the like when it could go for subsidizing opera. Especially mental care, one of them pointed out; if only more people could get to the opera and to concerts, there wouldn’t be all this mental illness, so much of which comes from sheer idleness and just hanging round the house. But not often does the talk get on this high level; it’s mostly a) about the regime here, b) about boring trips they all seem to be on constantly when not here—boring, because this tends to be a recital of foreign towns and hotels, comparison of various airlines, and what they got abroad. One lady had been to Russia and picked up a perfectly darling rug made of squares of reindeer skin—looks perfect in her NY apartment. That sort of chatter….
Ardena bath and massage … pure torture-chamber. The attendant pours some boiling hot wax into a bed sheet and makes you get in (ignoring cries of ouch and too hot), then pours more hot wax all over you (more than a gallon, I learned) until you are completely coated, then wraps you to the neck in sheets and warm blankets; arms and legs immobilized, like swaddling clothes…. She said it draws all the poisons out of the body. “All what poisons?”; But she was vague on that point. (Do ask Eph.)
Massage: tremendous kneading, slapping, picking up of handfuls of flesh and throwing it around. I found out various things from the masseuse, such as the help’s food is foul, mostly starch and grease, masses of mashed potatoes and spaghetti; for meat, frankfurters. I asked her what sort of cream she was using (she covers you with cream in course of massage). She said “Orange skin-food, but don’t tell anyone, we’re not supposed to as it is very expensive.” I asked how much; $4.00 a jar. (Retail, natch; I happen to know that you can get it made up for a fraction, as Idden and I used to do as children.) I asked how many massages she could do to a jar, she said about 6! Barb, it’s not right; that means less than 500 a jar retail per person,6 about 10 wholesale, no doubt, and here I am paying $800 a week. Oh yes, and the wax bath: the attendant there said it was “the most expensive bath ever dreamed of,” because of all the wax used. But… one of the gliders, a higher-up, told me when pressed that it is ordinary paraffin wax. Can’t wait to find out how much that costs, at wholesale.
After massage, weighing. I’ve gone down (in one day’s treatment) from 1403/4 lbs to 138 ¼—loss of 2 1/4, right? Of course, most of it is probably sweat, from the bath thing.
It’s a bit early to tell what one will possibly be able to make of all this, article-wise. One problem, obviously, is the intense blandness of the conversation around one; a bit of upset would help, I think. I think either tomorrow or Thursday, I’ll simply tell them I’m doing an article on the joint. Or, perhaps start off by saying I’m a writer and hinting I might do a story? Or saying I’m a spy for McCall’s Magazine? I can’t decide on the best approach, I guess time will tell. I might start with the NY upper-class-ers, less likely to lynch one than the Nashville-Florida crowd. Then, gradually work up to formally interviewing the gliders (duennas, people in charge) for a more general view? …
Love to all, Decca
To Robert Treuhaft
Arizona Maine Chance, Phoenix
November 17, 1965
Darling Bob,
About the unveiling. Not only is the talk here too, too bland, but now that Mrs. Barry G.7 has arrived I feel I must come clean. (By the way: she is revoltingly well-preserved, easily the best-looking person at lunch today).
There are two International Set types, friends who came together, called Mrs. Frelinghuysen, sister-in-law of a New Jersey congressman Frelinghuysen (who he? Ask Barb, she always knows things)8 and Mrs. Griscom.… Mrs. F., having been brought up in England, is at least human to talk to. She and Mrs. G. do things like dash out and buy look-alike dresses for dinner in the nearby town of Phoenix. But they seem to like me (unlike most of the ones here), always save a seat for me at meals etc. They are about my age, namely the young crowd….
I have accomplished Part I of the unveiling, which was to ask Mrs. F. to get the current Life Mag “because I’ve got a review in it, just wanted to see how much they mucked it up.” … If they get it, and if the review is in, curiosity will impel them to read it and politeness will impel them to say something to me about it. Right? What’s more, as there is absolutely naught to talk about here, chances are they’ll say something about it to some of the others. Mrs. F. is reading the Life of Dylan Thomas, so there’s a hopeful sign (only other books I’ve seen in people’s actual hands were James Bond and a couple of mysteries)…. So, we’ll see what happens at dinner tonight, will write more of that later. The point of the carefulness of the unveiling is that I don’t want to be completely boycotted by all of them, as that would rather defeat part of my purpose here (casing the ladies). So, if I do it in easy stages starting with one who might be an ally, that’s better, don’t you think?
Part II, I’m hoping to keep off till Friday evening, when Eliz. Arden’s New York public-relations people will all have gone away for the weekend. That’s when I shall go cozying up to Mrs. Simple (that’s the duenna’s name, but all the Southerners pronounce it either Sample or Semple) and say that I do do occasional freelance writing (giving name if asked) and would love to do one on Maine Chance. Then I’d regularly interview her on a million and one things I’m curious about. I fear that if I ask her too early on, she’ll first check with NY and it won’t be such a satisfactory interview from my viewpoint. Then, when we go back East, perhaps various other cats can be put among the pigeons by seeing the official P.R. people—just to round things off.
Now, back to a few other notes.
The staff of masseuses, hairdressers, facial-givers etc. are pretty run-of-the-mill in looks, technicians, what you’d find in any good beauty shop. Most of them have been here for years. Like most people whose working lives are devoted to serving the very rich, they have completely taken on their coloration and are devoted to their interests. One does not put on one’s own shoes after a foot treatment (which is every other day, hands are alternate), one does not pour one’s own bouillon at II a.m., one does not fetch one’s own towel after swimming. Willing hands do all.
The gym teachers are a different breed, smashing looking. Their job is to impart enthusiasm (“Feel that in the abdomen, class? Goooood.”)….
Mrs. Simple is iron hand in velvet glove…. [She speaks in] soothing, dulcet tones, which is the form around here among the top staff; could drive you faintly nuts in time. On the other hand, she had some relatively brisk words to say to Mrs. Frelinghuysen and Mrs. Griscom, who had been caught sneaking an apple (100 calories) into their room….
The faces here run to two extremes, as I’ve often noted in very rich Americans: fearfully discontented and complainy-looking, and unfailingly bland. Sorry to keep saying bland—but it’s not quite smug, not quite cheerful….
I have cased the visitors book, which runs back quite a few years—wish I knew more about the names and who they are. Part of it reads like a list of products advertised in the daily press (Heinz, Ford, Fleishmann etc), part like a roster of leading Republicans (Dulles, Eisenhower, Goldwater). Very few movy people: Greer Garson, Ava Gardner are regulars.
Thursday morning:9 … The unveiling went as planned, so far: Mrs. Griscom and Mrs. Frelinghuysen brought two copies of Life, one for them. There’s a lot of do-you-know-so-and-so here at meals, for instance the New Yorkers and Nashvillians all turn out to have friends in common, which so far I’ve been out of, natch. So at dinner, Mrs. F. said, “I know your sister who lives in Paris!” So I was pleased, until she added, “Charming Lady Mosley.” Wouldn’t you know it.
Now, about the end result of all the beautifying. In the first place, they are rather clever about not guaranteeing anything; merely say, “Well you’ll feel better and look better, if you follow the regime.” Personally, I feel and look exactly the same as at home, and I bet the others do too. As for the 3 1/4 lbs I’m supposed to have lost, my dress felt slightly tighter than usual when I got ready for dinner last night. So it will be the same old Dec. Sorry, but there it is. Except I’m getting a sort of sleek look on the skin that I don’t specially care for, which I guess will wear off in a day or two of not having the facials & being doused in skin cream all day long. The tip-off, I suppose, is at dinner-time, when the aging raw flesh of the day is transformed by girdles, bras, powder & lipstick and good clothes and jewels. While they all look human for a change (except for hair which stays greasy and lank) basically it’s the same old faces, same old wrinkles—or, with the minority, same handsome young faces…. The spirit of Miss Arden (as we call her here) hovers over all, and her name is often invoked: “What kind of cream is that?”; “A special formula that Miss Arden learned from a doctor in Rome, many years ago.” “How do you work out the diet?”; “Miss Arden personally decides.”…
Wish you were here to see if there are any Jews, you know how I can never tell. There is one, I think…. Not a dark face in the place; all the maids are either southern-white or foreign.
Much love, Decca
To Marion Conrad10 Arizona Maine Chance, Phoenix
November 18, 1965
Dearest Marion,
OK, I am writing. …
Finances: Mrs. A. is 2nd in command around here after Mrs. Simple, our chief duenna…. Mrs. A. is a nice English person, so I thought best to start with her, by saying “I think I may do an article about this place.” She said, “Oh well you would have to check that with Miss Arden, there is to be no publicity unless it has been cleared with New York.” I didn’t bother to pursue this curious thought further except to say that luckily I’m going to New York soon, and certainly will check personally with Miss Arden (not a bad idea). So anyhow tonight I asked Mrs. A. why they were against publicity. She explained that it is because they run this place only as an accommodation to clients and not as a commercial proposition. “You mean it is run at a loss?”; “Well, it might break even, but I doubt it when you consider the overhead.” Now Marion. Maine Chance is open 6 months of the year (the whole staff then goes to Maine Chance in Maine for next 6 months). A. says there is a staff of about 50, including all—gardeners, maids, masseuses and all. My guess is that the average price per week for staying here is $800. The staff gets paid prevailing wages (I asked A. that question and she said yes). What would the median wage be, I mean obviously the masseuses get quite a lot and the maids quite little—would $125 a week be about right?
So, multiply 50 by $150, and 40 (number of guests) by $800, for a start. Then, take food. Top quality food, marvellously cooked, served as at an English houseparty. But another way of putting it (and one that, I understand, means a terrific saving in terms of restaurant business) is that it’s served family style, all at once in one serving, absolutely no choice of menu—and tiny portions, no seconds. Also: no butter, no wine, no masses of fattening and expensive things we could think of. Safflower oil in the salad dressing, much cheaper than olive…. OK: so, service and food (I should think usually the most costly items in running a resort or hotel). I know there are masses of other items (linens, supplies of all sorts; but you get the picture). Boutique: At any hour of the day you may see some old fattie in there, fingering the Arden Xmas Stocking (a white satin stocking filled with teenzy samples of Arden preparations, price $27.50) and saying, “How cute! I think I’ll take twenty of those, solve my Christmas present problem.” In fact, “I’ll take that, and that, and that, and two of those” seems to be the constant cry of all these ladies when they are in the boutique. … That boutique must be a goldmine….
You know how in hospital the entire talk is of oneself—but the others are also interested in your plight? Like, “I get my stitches out today!” “Oh wonderful. And nurse told me I could start on solids tomorrow” (that sort of thing). It’s like that here, too. “I lost another 3/4 lb today.” “Miss Pierce told me I’m ready for four sessions of exercise.” …We get the newspaper with breakfast. The headlines are full of bitter battles in Viet-Nam, the Governor of Rhodesia deposed, Supreme Court reverses C.P. case. Not once, in 4 very concentrated days here, have I heard the word “Viet-Nam,” “Rhodesia” or “Supreme Ct.” But one woman did explain to me, whilst showing me her all-blue room, that she had requested all blue this time as it is so relaxing, and that last time she was here she had a pink room which she found far too stimulating….
Yesterday, Mrs. Griscom and another lady and I went to see the brand-new art center here.11 Some books about the collection ($7.50) were being sold at the entrance. Before even glancing at the collection, Mrs. G. said “I’ll take two of those.” I think it’s a sort of reflex with them, when anything is being sold. The collection turned out to be really excellent (some awfully nice Renoirs and Corots, Paul Klees etc). The woman who guided us said, “To give you some idea of the cost of these pictures, recently in New York a Renoir was sold for $350,000.” Ooooh, aaaah, we said. A novel way to introduce an art collection, I thought….
On the way back, the other lady asked me “Where do you generally winter?”; At home, I answered, although I occasionally Spring in New York or Fall in London.
So far, the most kindred spirit is Mrs. Harvey12 (although she also voted for Goldwater, how I long for a Rockefeller supporter!13 I asked my nice Swedish masseuse if any Democrats ever come. “Ach, yes,” she said in her gutteral accent, “Ve have Mrs. Dwight Eisenhower, Mrs. Dulles, all ofdem come.” “Any Kennedys or Stevensons?”; “No, I don’t remember any of them.”). Mrs. H. is also planning to write about Maine Chance (she does occasional funny pieces for Chi. papers) but said she can’t see anything funny in it; she loathes it, finds it intensely boring….
I’ve got to dash to face.
Much love, and longing to see you, Decca
To Aranka Treuhaft
Arizona Maine Chance, Phoenix
November 20, 1965
Dearest Aranka (and Dinky; please show her this, as I haven’t time to write two),
…Guess who I kicked in exercise class today? Mrs. Barry Goldwater! (The way you do it is not to change legs when the exercise teacher say “and now, the left leg.”)
Oh dear this has been a weird experience. Thank God today is the last day. On vital statistics: I have lost 4 3/4 lbs, 2 inches in waist, ¼ inch upper arm, 1 inch each thigh. Also: hair off legs (with wax), hair on head tinted, eyelashes and eyebrows dyed, nails varnished pink. In the words of Poor Jud is Dead, my fingernails had never been so clean.14 But (and this is the disappointing part) I actually look exactly the same, as I knew I would all along. Everybody says, “But you feel so well after a week here.” As I always feel perfectly OK anyhow, I haven’t noted the difference….
Aranka, you should have come instead. They are all bridge players, and not a Scrabble player in the place.
Much love, Decca
To Julie Andrews
Oakland
December 2, 1965
Dearest J.,
… I’ve just got back from one of the rummest experiences of my long and rum life: a week at Maine Chance (where rich fatties like Mamie Eisenhower go to be dried out and slimmed down), did it for McCall’s Magazine, am now racing to finish the piece for them. It cost roughly $1,000 (with tips and transportation) and I lost 5 lbs; so that’s $200 a lb. Wish I knew how it compares with the 3,000 ducats in Shylock’s Venice; considering the international rate of exchange, I mean. Must ask a Shakespearian expert….
I shall be seeing the Redbook folks in NY (re. the profile of you) and should much love to talk to you ere going, as I’m having extreme trouble over it. Hard for me to sort out what the trouble is, but I think it is this (in a nutshell): It is fearfully hard for me to write about somebody I really like. I’m much better at what you might call combative writing—that is, sticking in the old knife, like with the undertakers. I should have known this ahead of time, and never agreed to do it; everything I put down just sounds sappy. Writing about the making of Hawaii, which was the original idea, would have been quite different, as that’s a reporting sort of job which I like and can do; but, as you recall, nobody seemed to want that story.15 Alas….
