I wasn’t a sex symbol, I was a sex zombie.
I’ve reached a point in my life where it’s the little things that matter… I was always a rebel and probably could have got much farther had I changed my attitude. But when you think about it, I got pretty far without changing attitudes. I’m happier with that.
There’s no doubt I was a bit of a misfit in the Hollywood of the forties. The race for glamour left me far behind. I didn’t really want to keep up. I wanted my stardom without the usual trimmings. Because of this, I was branded a rebel at the very least. But I don’t regret that for a minute. My appetite was my own and I simply wouldn’t have it any other way.
I will have one of the cleanest obits of any actress. I never did cheesecake like Ann Sheridan or Betty Grable. I just used my hair.
You could put all the talent I had into your left eye and still not suffer from impaired vision.
Hollywood gives a young girl the aura of one giant, self-contained orgy farm, its inhabitants dedicated to crawling into every pair of pants they can find.
I never did cheesecake; I just used my hair.
I think I’ve developed into an actress because I’ve worked darn hard at it and I’ve learned a great deal from a lot of gifted people. And if I have nothing else to show for my life, apart from a scrapbook full of cuttings, I have the knowledge that my early days in Hollywood weren’t in vain.
Alan Ladd was a marvelous person in his simplicity. In so many ways we were kindred spirits. We both were professionally conceived through Hollywood’s search for box office and the types to insure the box office. And we were both little people. Alan wasn’t as short as most people believe. It was true that in certain films Alan would climb a small platform or the girl worked in a slit trench. We had no such problems together.