The Secret Letters of Marilyn Monroe and Jacqueline Kennedy (2 page)

PATRICE RENOIR

Apartment 1

The Renaissance

1600 La Brea

Hollywood, California 90069

Richard Winchester

Winchester Literistic

17 Sutton Place

New York, New York 10021

July 19, 2002

Dear Richard,

I am glad you are coming to L.A. and will see you for dinner at the Wilshire. But I won’t be bringing the boxes. We have to wait until August 4.

Like I said before, I can’t write my way out of a paper bag, but I’ll try and tell you a little. The rest can wait till we meet.

Here goes. Back then, I was a makeup artist and beauty therapist around Hollywood. People said I looked like Marilyn. Wore my hair silver blonde, had a beauty spot, scarlet lipstick, sharp long red nails, a Stetson, slinky clothes. Didn’t really look like her, though. Came from Flatbush, didn’t have the style or the oomph. But hearing it made me feel good.

Met Marilyn in 1951, real early in her career, at a party thrown by that S.O.B. Charlie Feldman, her agent. We hit it off immediately. Asked me to come by her house. Told her about my specialty. A Brazilian wax, they call it (though what Brazil’s got to do with it I
really don’t know). Waxing away the hair from all over. From everywhere, if you get my drift. Today, everybody does it (Madonna gets it regular).
^*

Marilyn hated getting it most the first time, because then she was just trying it out, so nothing would show under her tight dresses. Two days after I first did it to her, she met him. He loved the way she looked down there, so she started having it regular. She did it for him, so no matter how much it hurt—and it does—she loved doing it, because she loved him so much and, loving him like she did, lived to please him.

I never knew his real name. Just that for over eleven years—all the time that I knew her—Marilyn loved him. Whether or not he loved her, I don’t know. He sure made her feel loved. She called him Mr. G. One day I asked her who he was. Hard for her to lie to me when I was in the middle of putting wax where I was putting it. But she was no fool, was Marilyn. She didn’t exactly tell me to mind my own business, and she did tell me something, but not what I really wanted to know. She said, “G for Gemini, Patty. G for good. Or G for God. Like God, Patty. Like God. The best person in my life.”

She told me they met through Charlie Feldman, and that same night Mr. G took her to the Beverly Hills Hotel. When he saw her down there, what I’d done to her, he went wild, she said. Went wild, she said, told her he loved it because it made her look so vulnerable, so available, like a child, all his.

Mr. G did really care for her, I think. Might not have admitted it, but did lots of things, said lots of things that showed her he cared and he did see her over and over, like clockwork.

If you want, I can show you all my appointment books. The minute
after she got the call from Mr. G and he told her where and when he wanted to see her, she made an appointment with me. She wasn’t shy about getting it done. Not the first time. Not ever. Almost enjoyed it, because whenever I did it, she knew she was about to see him.

Once, though (I think it was November 1960), she bleached it blonde, then waited six weeks before sending for me. Asked me to wax her so it looked like an eagle.
^*
Crazy, but I did.

Anyways, when you read my appointment book, you’ll see that I first worked on Marilyn in 1951, at 9400 West Olympic, that grungy hotel she was living in (it was May, I think), then at the Bel-Air (a step up in the world for her), then her apartment 882 North Doheny. After that, at 508 North Palm Drive (she was married to Joe then, but he was out of town and Mr. G came to see her). Then, when she moved to New York, she got me a job at Billy Rose’s and I used to see her at the St. Regis (Suite 1105), at the Waldorf Towers (Suite 2728), and at 444 East 57th Street (she was married to that Miller man then, but it was nearly over and Mr. G came around). Then back in L.A. at
the Beverly Hills (Bungalow 21), when she was with that Yves Montand. In the end, of course, she had me come to her house on Helena.

She gave me pictures, too, signed ones and I’ll show you. “Dear Patty, thank you for being so gentle.” “Dearest Patty, wishing you luck in Vegas.” (I worked there for a bit, at the Trop with the Lido girls.) Near the end, she gave me a silver cigarette case, engraved with the words “Dear Patty, waxing sentimental … you are wonderful!” So was she. I am only doing this because I am desperate and because I know she wouldn’t mind anymore.

So that’s it, really. Dinner at eight (wasn’t that a movie?) at the Wilshire.

Best,

Patty

__________________________

*
See
Miami Herald Tropic Magazine,
1994 interview with Delia Bernardino, Madonna’s beautician.

*
A Brazilian wax takes approximately twenty-five minutes, during which all hair is removed from the pubic and ancillary areas by applying warm wax and then removing it, after which the entire area remains baby smooth for over three weeks. At this point, a regrowth occurs and the process needs to be done again. In Marilyn’s day, strippers, showgirls, dancers, and call girls routinely underwent Brazilian waxing. According to Patty, Marilyn originally approached her to bleach her pubic hair so that it did not show through some of her more transparent gowns when, as was her wont, she failed to wear underwear. On inspecting the area and noting the sensitivity of Marilyn’s skin, Patty advised a Brazilian. Marilyn endured the first treatment and may not have repeated the procedure had she not met Mr. G soon after. Based on his reaction, she continued to have Brazilians throughout most of her career (apart from during much of her marriage to Joe DiMaggio, who did not approve of the process).

In the nineties, Beverly Hills beautician Nance Mitchell specialized in waxing the area into a design (for example, a Mercedes-Benz emblem requested by the mistress of a millionaire who owned a fleet of them).

A woman’s willingness to submit to a Brazilian wax for the sole benefit of her lover is often a manifestation of her innate masochism, and a conscious or unconscious submission to him. By transforming herself into a prepubescent child, she is, in effect, putting herself in his power. Marilyn’s underlying masochism infuses many of her descriptions of her sexual encounters and will be discussed in greater detail.

PATRICE RENOIR

Apartment 1

The Renaissance

1600 La Brea

Hollywood, California 90069

Richard Winchester

Suite 1977

The Beverly Wilshire

Beverly Hills, California 90201

August 1, 2002

Dear Richard,

Thank you for dinner. After, I realized I was wrong. I should have brought you that letter from Josephine, which Marilyn crumpled up and threw on the floor that last day. I worked out that I got to trust you, so I’ll tell you what the letter says (don’t want to let it out of my hands yet).

Here are the words.

July 28, 1962

Martha,

This is the last letter I shall ever write to you. Our correspondence is over. I have retrieved all your letters from Miss S and am herewith returning them to you.

Josephine

I suppose that explains why Marilyn cried so much when she read the letter and got the box from Josephine. But it still doesn’t explain who Josephine was, does it? I was thinking, though, that maybe she wasn’t really a she at all, that Josephine could have been just another name for Mr. G.
^*

I guess we’ll find out on August 5. See you then.

Best wishes,

Patty

__________________________

*
Pattys failure to intuit the identity of Mr. G, and thus, Josephine, cannot be attributed to lack of intelligence or education (in fact, she graduated from City College with honors, and many of her witty Hollywood bon mots have been frequently quoted—see Sex, Sin and Salaciousness in Hollywood, by James Worthington [Honolulu: Baynards Press, 1961]). In subsequent conversations with the publisher of The Secret Letters, she made it clear that out of loyally to Marilyn, she never read any of the letters and consistently willed herself not to speculate regarding the identity of Mr. G or Josephine or the nature of their correspondence.

R
ICHARD
W
INCHESTER

Winchester Literistic

17 Sutton Place

New York, New York 10021

Patrice Renoir

Apartment 1

The Renaissance

1600 La Brea

Hollywood, California 90069

August 18, 2002

Dear Patty,

Opening the boxes with you on August 5 was one of the most moving moments of my entire life. I feel privileged that you have entrusted the letters to me.

You will be glad to know that they have now been authenticated by two independent experts. In short, there is no doubt whatsoever that I now have in my possession the secret correspondence between Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy. Many congratulations!

We can now take steps toward securing a lucrative publication deal. I shall, of course, keep you informed at all times.

Best regards,

Richard

BY MESSENGER

R
ICHARD
W
INCHESTER

Winchester Literistic

17 Sutton Place

New York, New York 10021

Thomas Dunne

Thomas Dunne Books

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, New York 10010

August 25, 2002

Dear Tom,

I was delighted to talk to you earlier this morning. You have
Letters
for twenty-four hours, exclusively. I have no doubt whatsoever as to what your answer will be.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime project. And I know that—with your instinct for melding the historical with the commercial, your fabled editorial talents, and your intense acumen for marketing—you are the right publisher for a project which is not only close to my heart but destined to make news throughout the world, and to break all bestseller list records for all time.

Awaiting your offer with anticipation.

Warm regards,

Richard

Thomas Dunne Books

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, New York 10010

Richard Winchester

Winchester Literistic

17 Sutton Place

New York, New York 10021

September 13, 2002

Dear Richard,

When you first hit me with the news that now that the deal is sealed, your client wants nothing more to do with the project, I was somewhat dismayed. However, after much reflection, I realize that her decision may well work to our advantage.

This book is not only a portrait of two icons, but also a slice of American history, of Hollywood history, replete with celebrity gossip, sexual salaciousness, and—to top that—a grand romantic saga. On another level, it is a tale which every wife who has ever worried about her husband having an affair and every mistress who has ever speculated regarding her married lover’s wife will want to read. It delves into the eternal triangle, presents a classic cat-and-mouse game between the wife and the mistress, yet at the same time is a portrait of female bonding at a time when the feminist movement was not yet born.

With so many delicious subtexts, I feel that the manuscript needs to be introduced and annotated by a major international figure whose scholarship encompasses American history, Hollywood history, cultural
history, and human nature in general. Only one name springs to mind. F. R. Lichtenstein. (I think he’s an Ed Victor client.)

Let me know what you think.

Warm regards,

Tom

R
ICHARD
W
INCHESTER

Winchester Literistic

17 Sutton Place

New York, New York 10021

Thomas Dunne

Thomas Dunne Books

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, New York 10010

September 28, 2002

Dear Tom,

Brilliant idea! But try explaining to my client.… At first, of course, she had never heard of F.R., so I soft-pedaled it. Then—for someone who positioned herself as not wanting anything else to do with the project—she flew into action. I don’t know who she called or how they managed to get it together so fast, but within half an hour, she got back to me with full chapter and verse on F.R., including his latest
New Yorker
essay on—of all people—Jackie.

She wasn’t deterred by the five wives (not even the story of how his last mistress, Lulu von Richthofen, knifed him that Halloween in Buenos Aires) nor by his cocaine period or his Hollywood shenanigans. And, of course, she was impressed (as we knew she would be) by his Pulitzer. His artistic volte-face in the latter years (he must be 79 now?) also impressed her, his renewed scholarship, the Harvard history fellowship, etc., etc. What nearly scuppered the entire deal, though, was his
New Yorker
characterization of Jackie (which, as luck would have it, her source read to my client) as “a venal woman with a
carnal soul.” That incensed her. And although I reminded her that out of all the journalists on the sixties beat, F.R. was unique in that he conducted interviews (for
Life)
with both Marilyn and Jackie, none of that cut any ice with her.

Strangely enough, Tom, now that she has released the letters, Patty isn’t the least bit protective of Marilyn’s memory, yet is virulently protective—not to say reverential—regarding Jackie’s. I’ve explained to her that—as you and I both agree—the letters don’t reflect remotely negatively on Jackie. Instead, they show her human side, her struggles, her passions, her love for Jack, and her warmth as a woman. Far from desecrating her memory, I think they consecrate it.

In any event, my client wouldn’t allow me to go ahead with F.R. unless I made what she termed as “a sacred promise” that he will not be permitted to make any direct comments on Jackie in the manuscript. I acquiesced, and mollified her further by pledging that we would do our utmost to illuminate the letters by seeking someone close to Jackie to comment on a number of them. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have co-opted a suitable candidate.

In the meantime, perhaps you could sound F.R. out?

Warm regards,

Richard