Time Marches On
I noted with some sadness today the passing of Bettie Page. She was 85 and passed after suffering a heart attack.
I’ve always been rather fascinated by her, first, of course, for her vibrant beauty and unabashed nature. But there is something else there for me…this might sound horribly vain, but I loved that, like me, she was a brunette.
I grew up in New Mexico where almost all the girls are brunette, and a blond girl was always the “ooh and aaahs” of the school ground. The boys didn’t care about another brunette girl. We were a dime a dozen. But a blond, aaaaooooohhhhga!
So I’ve always loved seeing a hot brunette make it work. After the Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield media barrage, I *loved* seeing Bettie’s dark locks…and that she took her overt sensuality to new levels. She made people uncomfortable.
And she was just…stunning.
Like the many girls who burst on the scene the way she did, she had a troubled life both before and after her explosive fame. But I don’t want to remember her for the hard times, the mental frailty, the reclusiveness and regret.
I want to remember her as a plain, open, fun kinda gal.
From today’s SFGate article: “…she told Playboy in 1998: ‘I never thought it was shameful. I felt normal. It’s just that it was much better than pounding a typewriter eight hours a day, which gets monotonous.'”
Right!
I know the “behind the scenes” wasn’t always pretty, and the uptight folks hounded her. But to me she is truly an icon. And supportive evidence that brunettes can be just as va-va-voom as our fair-haired counterparts!
I’m posting a fairly well known photo, fully clothed, but brimming with HOOOOOT.
Go easy, now, Bettie. Have fun shaking your money-maker on the other side!
