My Weekend Crush

I’ve had this photo of Carole Lombard sitting in my archives for what seems like ages. And each time I stumble across it again, usually while searching for some other photo, I have to stop. In one photo, it’s everything that Hollywood should be. Beautiful. Glamorous. Seductive. It’s perfect. Carole Lombard is perfect. I can’t stop staring at it. I never want to stop staring at it. It mesmerizes me anew each time. In fact, I’ve been a little selfish keeping it to myself all this time. It’s so perfect, I almost don’t want to share it. Like when you caught your first summer firefly, but then didn’t want to share it with anyone because the light was so pretty in your hand. That’s how this photo makes me feel.

As one of the biggest stars of the 1930s, Carole earned more than five times the President of the United States in her heyday. Her gift for comedy and flare for life were legendary. She had that almost impossible combination of humor and elegance. It earned her an Oscar nomination for 1936’s “My Man Godfrey.” She had a string of famous fellas after her, and married William Powell and Clark Gable. Not bad for an Indiana gal. But her life was cut tragically short at age 33 when after returning home to Indiana for a war bonds rally at the start of WWII, her plane home crashed killing her, her mother and 15 soldiers. So just like the photo, Carole remains frozen in time. Forever beautiful. Forever glamorous. Forever seductive. And always able to make us stop in our tracks and say, my God, she’s gorgeous. Happy weekend, all.