Authors: Candy Spelling
I’ll never forget going to Robinson’s department store in Beverly Hills one afternoon. The store was built in a midcentury modern style of architecture and was adjacent to the Beverly Hilton hotel on Wilshire Boulevard. I had my eye on a Judith Leiber purse, and I had been visiting it for several months. Aaron had just started making enough money that I felt I could indulge myself and buy the purse. When I got to Robinson’s, the purse was on sale, so I thought, “Okay, I’m buying this purse!” When it came time to pay, I pulled out one of Aaron’s credit cards that he had given me. I guess he hadn’t changed the name on the card yet, so it said, “Mr. Aaron Spelling.” Not even Mrs. Aaron Spelling.
I was wearing a pair of blue jeans and had no makeup on, so I probably looked much younger than I was at the time. The saleswoman asked me for my driver’s license, but instead of that resolving the issue, I felt like I had set off a silent alarm. Suddenly salespeople were running around locking things down, frantically dialing the phone, and then I was escorted upstairs to the credit office. I stood there with my face flushing scarlet as they tried to reach Aaron to confirm I was his wife. The sale was approved, but I was truly humiliated.
On the way out of the store, I saw a sweater that I liked on a shelf. I asked the saleswoman how much it was and she said, “Oh, it’s much more money than you can afford.” I tried the sweater on hoping it would look wonderful on me so I could buy it. Unfortunately, it did not look great on me, so I left without it. I remember wishing I had bought it just to prove a point, but I think part of me knew even then that it was an issue of self-worth and not the sweater.
I was hardly a bird in a gilded cage, but I had definitely married a very traditional man with incredible ambition and drive. I was trying to find balance and not lose myself in his identity. Fortunately, it was not long after that we decided to remodel our first house on Palm Drive. Managing the remodel played to my strengths. I was good with money and decisive, and my double Virgo astrological sign made me perfect for overseeing all the details of the construction. It was a good reminder of qualities I had always been proud of and appreciated about myself.
7
Hollywood-Style Affection
I had come a long way from the shy girl who locked herself in the bathroom at Rock Hudson’s house when I was first dating Aaron. Still, I don’t think anything could have prepared me for socializing with the famous faces that Aaron was friendly with on daily basis. It’s funny because my godfather, Howard Koch, was an Academy Award–winning screenwriter and a playwright who had worked with Orson Welles, Humphrey Bogart, and Joan Fontaine. Growing up, my parents frequented the Mocambo, a nightclub on the Sunset Strip, and they were friendly with Harry Ritz of the Ritz Brothers. The Ritz Brothers were the archrivals of the Marx Brothers, and Sid Caesar had called Harry “the funniest man alive.” Later as a teenager, I had my own experiences with celebrities at Jax and of course the Daisy.
Aaron’s world was different. He had an intimacy with these icons of the silver screen. It wasn’t Aaron taking advantage of a photo op with Johnny Mathis or Van Cliburn at a big Hollywood party. He had a closeness with
legendary actors that only a writer who truly understood them and had created parts for them could have. Aaron had deep roots in Hollywood going back to his first-ever script he sold to Jane Wyman in 1954. By coincidence, the last publicity still taken of Ronald Reagan as an actor was a shot of him in full cowboy costume from Aaron’s show
Burke’s Law.
My first glimpse into this other world came on a trip we took to New York together shortly after we were married. It was selling season, so Aaron had business in New York. Among other things, he was going to show a pilot. We took a two-and-a-half-day train trip across the country. Aaron reserved two rooms, and they removed the wall between them so we could have lower berths and private bathrooms. The dining car was fabulous, and the trip really was very charming and romantic in its own way. I remember it being a lot of fun.
In Joliet, Illinois, a reporter got on board to interview Aaron. He traveled with us the rest of the way to Penn Station in New York. Marlo Thomas, the eldest child of Aaron’s former producing partner Danny Thomas, arranged for us to stay at The Plaza Hotel in a beautiful suite overlooking Central Park. Aaron had known Marlo almost her entire life because he and Danny had been producing partners for so long. Needless to say, our suite was a far cry from my quarters at the Barbizon Hotel.
There on the table waiting for us was a stunning bouquet of flowers with a darling little watering can. The note card had a warm welcome message along with instructions for watering the flowers. The card was signed by none other than Joan Crawford. Joan was one of Aaron’s oldest and dearest friends. They had known each other for ages and had worked together. In 1959, he had written an episode called “Rebel Ranger” for her in
Zane Grey Theatre. Zane Grey Theatre
was a series based on the short stories of western author Zane Grey. Aaron had produced and written about twenty of them. Joan played a Confederate widow, Stella Faring, who tries to reclaim her former home and her son’s birthplace from its Unionist owner.
That night we made our way to the Upper East Side to meet Joan. She had an enormous apartment where everything inside was coated with thick, clear
plastic to keep it clean. I remember being taken aback and thinking, “And here I thought I was a neat freak.” Right there in the living room, she had two adorable puppies in a playpen.
Joan was a formidable woman. She was tall and big boned. Not overweight, just a larger-framed woman. I sat down to play with the puppies. Meanwhile, Joan invited Aaron to her bedroom to watch her get dressed. I know it sounds strange but I wasn’t worried at all—it was nothing. Aaron and Joan had never been romantic, and he had already warned me that this was something Joan did with her male friends. Because she was Joan Crawford, she knew there would be no protests from either one of us. So while Aaron paid his respects to Joan by watching her dress herself, I kept myself entertained with the puppies. I always felt like I got the better end of the bargain on that one.
I soon learned she had other quirks. For one thing, Joan always drank 100-proof vodka. In fact, at the restaurant where we had dinner that evening with Generoso Pope Jr., the owner of the
National Enquirer,
the waiter brought her special bottle of vodka to the semiprivate room where we were dining. The vodka had been stored there for her, chilled to perfection, and then poured for her.
We were having a lovely dinner until Joan decided to order blueberry yogurt for dessert. Yogurt happens to be a food I don’t care for at all. It’s one of those foods that I don’t even like to look at. It was worse back then since the yogurt wasn’t creamy the way it is now. It was gloppy and full of curds. The waiter brought a bowl of the blueberry yogurt out to the round table where we were sitting. Joan looked at me.
“Candy, you must taste this! It’s absolutely delicious.”
I politely declined, but Joan Crawford was not accepting a “no” from Aaron Spelling’s young wife. She dug deep into the bowl with a large tablespoon and then brought it to my lips. The yogurt spilled over the spoon. The last thing I wanted to do was insult my husband’s friend, but I was worried I would gag on the yogurt. Joan practically forced the spoon past my lips. I was
so grateful I was able to swallow the yogurt without it coming back up. It was disgusting, but of course I said it was delicious. (Years later I would tell this story to Tori’s godmother, Barbara Stanwyck, and she shared that Joan had once force-fed her an entire piece of calf’s liver.)
Just before the trip, Aaron had bought me a beautiful and unique ring. It was actually three rings in one that interlocked, and each ring was a flower. It was one emerald, one ruby, and one sapphire. Together they looked like one ring. I absolutely loved them. They were very sweet, and Aaron was very proud of his purchase. I wore them out with Joan that night. Aaron happened to ask her if she had noticed the ring. Joan looked at Aaron as if she were in her most regal role ever and spoke with grand politesse.
“Darling. Until you can afford to buy your wife jewelry that is important, I would simply advise that you just buy her candy and flowers.”
Aaron never bought me anything small or cutesy again. After that night I think his perspective shifted, and he came to believe that the jewelry he bought for me was a measure of his success and not just a token of his affection. I never asked him for any of the jewelry he gave me, but every time he bought me an incredible piece, I thought of Joan Crawford.
8
Frenemies
It was actually my jewelry collection that ignited Elizabeth Taylor’s unofficial rivalry with me. Aaron compulsively bought me jewelry and Elizabeth obsessively collected it, so I suppose it was inevitable. Aaron had known Elizabeth for years, and like everyone else, she adored him. They had worked together and were also part of the same social circles. When Aaron divorced Carolyn and needed to find a place to live, he had rented Elizabeth’s old house. There were avocado trees in the back, and his dog Adam used to eat the ones that fell from the trees.
The first time I met Elizabeth was in the mid-1980s at a party given by “Mr. and Mrs. Hollywood,” Lew Wasserman and his wife, Edie. For thirty years, Lew Wasserman had been the top guy in Tinseltown. He and his wife Edie had been married for about fifty years at this point. She was very much his partner as well as an incredible philanthropist. They were known for their lavish, over-the-top parties that brought out all the Hollywood stars as well as the powerful politicos. This evening was no different. It was one of those dazzling nights where they had transformed a soundstage at Universal Studios and filled it with famous faces.
I don’t recall what dress I was wearing, but I distinctly remember that I was wearing an emerald suite that Aaron had given me. Elizabeth was—as was her style—more than fashionably late. The crowds parted as she made a royal entrance befitting the Queen of the Nile. She must have been in her early fifties, but she was still magnificently beautiful. Her eyes were absolutely captivating, as were the jewels that adorned her.
“Aaron! Darling!”
There I was on Aaron’s arm, and she acted like I was invisible. She was very touchy-feely with my husband and cool as cucumber with me. As luck would have it, Elizabeth was wearing the legendary Bulgari emerald suite given to her by Richard Burton after they finished filming
Cleopatra
. I remember the media sensation that surrounded his gift to her at the time. Burton had half-jokingly said that the only word Elizabeth knew in Italian was Bulgari.
Two women at the same gala wearing emeralds is no different than two women wearing the same designer dress on a red carpet. When Aaron introduced me to Elizabeth, I felt her violet eyes lock onto my emeralds and make a quick assessment. It was unusual to see women with suites of jewelry like ours, and I could see she felt competitive with me. I never would have admitted this to Aaron, but my Van Cleef & Arpels emeralds were outdone by her Bulgari emeralds.
Elizabeth had been a superstar since she was a young girl, so it wasn’t surprising that she needed to command all the attention. Over the years we would socialize with Elizabeth, so I did get to know her better. I wouldn’t say we were friends, but we were friends with many of the same people. Having been shy myself, I recognized that Elizabeth was actually shy too. Instead of retreating into herself like I did for so many years, Elizabeth put on this aloof and dramatic personality to keep everyone at a safe and humble distance. I do think this was the bond she shared with Michael Jackson, who, like her, had also become a sensation at a very young age.
Sometime near 2000, Michael and Elizabeth went to a jewelry auction together, and he bought her the now-famous “Monkey Necklace” that originally belonged to Baroness Sandra di Portanova. The necklace was designed
for the baroness by her husband Ricky di Portanova. Its principal design was interlocking monkeys encrusted with pavé diamonds, rubies, and emeralds. Truthfully, the whimsical necklace was a far cry from the sophisticated designs Elizabeth was accustomed to, but Michael had given it to her with so much love that she wore it with pride. I remember seeing the two of them at The Carousel Ball shortly after he had presented it to her. They were like two kids on Christmas showing off their new toy.
The great irony of the “Monkey Necklace” is that what gave it real value was its history with Michael Jackson and Elizabeth Taylor. When it was first auctioned after the death of the baroness in 2000, it sold for a relatively modest $55,000 and included a set of matching earrings. Michael paid an undisclosed amount for just the necklace. Eleven years later when Christie’s auctioned off Elizabeth Taylor’s jewelry collection for charity, the necklace garnered an impressive $260,000 and became a piece of Hollywood history.
9
Life Imitating Art
It wasn’t all rivalry, diva tantrums, and tabloid fodder off camera. Many of these movie stars had come through the ranks of the Hollywood studio system together and had tremendous sensitivity and respect for one another. In many ways they really were one big Hollywood family.
I think the first time I made this observation was at a birthday party for Elizabeth. She was turning fifty-five that year, so Academy and Grammy Award–winning composers Burt Bacharach and his then-wife Carole Bayer Sager, who is also a Grammy and Academy Award–winning songwriter, hosted the party at their home in Bel-Air. It was a casual type of party, so I wasn’t wearing what Joan Crawford would have called “important jewelry,” and neither was the birthday girl. Unless it was a gala or a ball, it really wasn’t appropriate.
As always, Elizabeth was fashionably late so that she could make her grand entrance. When we arrived at the party, there in the middle of the living room holding court was the legend of all female Hollywood legends—Miss Bette Davis. While she may have looked like a queen on her throne granting
an audience to those who bowed before her, the truth was that Bette wasn’t well at the time, so she couldn’t get up out of the chair.