the sun never sets on lucille ball

- Lucie Arnaz

“@luciearnazofficial: I like this picture of my mom in Palm Springs. It feels like she’s still there with us. Happy day of her birth, 1911.” (x)

--- Jess Oppenheimer, writer, I Love Lucy

“She and I took her grandson, Simon, to see The King and I in New York, and during intermission people kept coming up and saying, ‘Oh, Lucy, we love you!’ I asked how it felt to be called Lucy. She said, ‘It always gives me a thrill. I don't know how I could even answer if they called me Miss Ball.’” (x)

Lucille Desiree Ball | August 6, 1911 | “You really have to love yourself to get anywhere in this world.”

“The first lady of television - her face was seen by more people more often than the face of any other human being who has ever lived. Who can forget Lucy? She was like everyone’s next door neighbor, only funnier. Lucille Ball was a national treasure who brought laughter to us all. This nation is grateful to her.” - Inscription for her Presidential Medal of Freedom, 1989

“She had a tenacity, an amazing ability to keep going until she got it right. Bravery. She was the first to do things that women didn’t do. She was gifted. She had genius, like Chaplin. Artistry of the top rank.” - Lucie Arnaz

“I once told Lucy that she was a beautiful clown. She didn’t want to hear it because it embarrased her, but it was true. She might be dressed in a baggy suit and a battered top hat and wearing big, funny shoes but she was still beautiful. And unlike some actresses who worry that they won’t look good, or that their hair will be mussed, Lucy would get into any crazy costume we would think of. She couldn’t wait to black out her teeth or get soaking wet or put on a funny wig.” - Madelyn Pugh Davis, writer for I Love Lucy

“One of the most important things that Lucy showed us was that women could be funny and attractive all at once - a groundbreaking concept for the day. This was particularly admirable considering Lucy was beautiful enough to be a conventional film star. But she shrugged off the persona of a cool beauty, instead reveling in the chance to get a laugh. She was never afraid to look foolish, silly, or even ugly for the sake of a good gag and her public loved her for it. By proving this formula, she paved the way for generations of funny women to come. Think of Carol Burnett, Roseanne, Gilda Radner, and Candice Bergen - they all owe at least part of their success to the amazing Lucy.” - Commentary on her role for women

Lucille Ball wearing a satin gown, photographed as a “Goldwyn Girl” in 1934. She was picked off the streets of New York City the summer of 1933 to become a Goldwyn Girl, filling in the position of another girl who had had to drop out. It was to be her ticket to Hollywood, and she was never to return, though she would remember thinking at the time that she would “be back in New York before the maple leaves flamed in Central Park.” She was one of twelve: pretty, leggy poster girls brought in to be an ensemble cast of beauties for Samuel Goldwyn movies, decked out in finery and blending into the scenery of a film. Her first day at the studio, all the girls were told to don bathing suits and line up for inspection by Eddie Cantor, the star of the first film they would be in, Roman Scandals. Lucy was waif-like thin at the time, and felt her figure was childish compared to the voluptuous bodies of the other girls. To make herself stand out, she pulled a prank she had witnessed the famous Gish sisters, Dorothy and Lillian, preform at the Belmont racetrack. She tore up little pieces of crepe red paper, wet them with her tongue, and stuck it over her bare face and arms. “When Mr. Cantor saw me, his jaw dropped,  his big eyes popped, and he roared with laughter,” Lucy later recalled. “That Ball dame,” Cantor went on telling everybody, “She’s a riot.” 

Did you really call her that?

Hattie Carnegie taught me how to slouch properly in a $1,000 hand sewn sequin dress and how to wear a $40,000 sable coat as casually as a rabbit. Since I was her youngest and least experienced model, I was soon covered with bruises where she kicked me in the shins to remind me to bend my knees properly, or pinched me in the ribs to make me raise my chest higher. Fiery, volatile Hattie fired me at least once a week, but like all the other models, I responded not to her outbursts but to her great warmth, and loved her.

Mostly I modeled long, slinky evening gowns and suits - thirty to forty changes in a day. With each change I had to slip into matching shoes, whether they were my size or not, and go wobbling out over the ultrathick carpet. By nighttime my feet were as swollen and sore as my shins. Connie and Joan Bennett were frequent customers, and I lost no time in bleaching my hair the same color as Joan’s and matching her style: flat on top with dippy waves on each side. Joan Crawford, Gloria Swanson, and Ina Claire’s came to Hattie’s. I tried to analyze their styles: how they walked and moved their hands and eyes, what they wore, and how they talked.

I didn’t know it at the time, but I was storing up a lot of useful knowledge.