Some Facts about myself
Marlene Dietrich, Paris, 1990
Fashion is and always has been my speciality, to the degree of a professional character. Unknowingly, I was since my early professional days a "fashion-symbol", as all the photographs taken by famous artists prove. When I dressed in male costumes because I liked it, finding it easier to live in, I did not know that I would, as they now call it, "liberate the females of the world." In my first American film I wore tails, making an elegant entertainer never seen before. The imagination of Joseph von Sternberg adopted my daring excursions and made them an exciting atout for the silver-screen.
It must have been an instinct that made me oblivious to the current fashions guiding most women of the planet. "Elegance and simplicity" was my motto. My entire wardrobe was "made to order" out of necessity. In all the biographies published of my life, the photos are astonishingly up to date, even those that were taken 30 years ago. (The texts are with a rare exception rotten fake).
The endless fittings for life and for the screen were exhausting, particularly as we never had much sleep. In those days there were no laws setting time-limits to the working hours, and at numerous times we worked through the evenings and half the nights. As we had to report for work on the studio stage at 9 a.m., this meant make-up and hairdressing calls at 7 a.m. This fact proves to you that we did not live in a fairy-land -- as is generally believed!
We also played havoc with other departments of our beings like our eyes, skin, stomachs, and throats that were tortured consistently to satisfy many special emotions and looks demanded by the scenarios and the directors. For instance: eyedrops enlarging the pupils to photograph black when the role was a gypsy, blinding the actress for the duration of many scenes -- cameras near -- arc lights and close-up kleeg-lamps sources of more hellish brightness, a most uncomfortable and often harmful necessity. When the time came to go home, more eye-drops, this time to bring the pupils back to normal, made us see our surroundings familiar again and gave us back our God given optimism. That also helped the starved state our bodies had become used to. Lunch hours were usually spent repairing hair-does or wigs and refresh make-up. I almost neglected to tell about the most dangerous "havoc": the use of ammonia on the set in "Dreamland's" studio.
When the scenario said; "In the close-up the tears are rolling down her cheeks while she sobs to break your heart" two prop-men held a long basin full of ammoniac underneath the face of that actress acting heart-broken out of camera range. It took a lot of willpower not to blink and sob at the same time. Running back to the dressing-room to wash the burning tears off the damaged make-up, self-pity was unavoidable but would be chased away by the sense of duty. Work went on.
During the break between evening and night filming we devoured what was left at the studio commissary. All these sacrifices were taken for granted with the unspoken remark: "You wanted to be a film star, no?"
My interest in the miracle of photography mounted steadily, helped enormously by the experience watching great cameramen at work. They were kind, generous teachers. On my rare days off or free nights, I was even allowed in the cutting-rooms and became a grateful pupil. As always I was the exception to the rule.
I never met an actress or an actor who showed any interest in anything but themselves -- their own roles, satisfaction, hopes and aims. My rare luck was the guidance of the greatest directors of the industry. It made my life exceptional -- filled with rich adventures and happiness.
The harvest of my profession enabled me to not only enjoy luxury but to help lighten the burden of many unfortunate human beings.
