The Tamesis
“Julie Andrews” by Gloria Steinem Originally published in the March 1965 issue Fashion.
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The secret to Julie Andrews’s success is simple: She is both noble and vulgar, witty and cerebral, watery ingenue and seasoned dramatist, sweet-tempered and acerbic, cool-headed and eccentric, sexy and ladylike.
Consider, for example, her recent impact on the glass regulars at a New York discotheque.
She came in wearing a pure white blouse and dark skirt that contrasted with the pavé jewels and plunging neckline around her. “How sweet!” said one woman. “Miss Goody, who is Goody Two-Shoes?” said another person. She danced a few sinuous flaggs, her face taking on the look of a girlish focus on getting it right, and the rest of her was really well done. That schoolgirl outfit now hugged a sexy five-foot-seven-inch figure, her translucent British skin glistening with excitement. “I don’t think she has any makeup on allsaid one woman. One of the men watching her dance asked her who she was. “Is that Julie Andrews?” he exclaimed. “But here she’s so sexy, and on stage she looks so…so cool.” “
When the music shifted to three-quarter time, Miss Andrews led her partner and two other couples in an expressionless burlesque performance of the English hesitation waltz. There was appreciative laughter all around. Miss Andrews elicits laughter with the cold eyes of a queen mother and an imaginary spear. More laughter. One gossip columnist asked, “Who is that man with her?” “Her husband,” his neighbor replied. She left the stage with her friends, performing a little juggling exit step as she went. The man who found her sexy stopped her to say hello and admire her success in Hollywood. Miss Andrews listened with pleasure. “Obviously,” the man’s wife whispered to the columnist, “all ladylikeness is just showmanship. She’s just another starlet.” The man introduced his wife. “Oh,” said Miss Andrews enthusiastically, “what a perfect dress!” Looking down at her shirtwaist, she added that she felt silly wearing it, but that she and her husband had decided to leave it at the last minute. She straightened her skirt, looking uncertain. “It’s okay,” said the wife, now fully convinced, “you look beautiful.”
The evening continues. Miss Andrews rarely drank brandy or soda (“I always thought brandy was much healthier than gin, wasn’t it?”) and danced a lot. In between, she and her friends played a favorite game: one person imitated a famous movie moment and the others had to guess which movie it was from. First she is Joan Crawford sudden fearthen Sydney Greenstreet maltese eagleand both are equally convincing. Other members of the group – including professional film buffs Stephen Sondheim and Mike Nichols, as well as her husband, designer Tony Walton – howled with delight. People at several tables around him also became energetic and smiled. Mr. Sondheim played “Gary Cooper” sourceMiss Andrews guessed. (“You know,” the wife said, “she’s one of the few pretty women who seems friendly.”)
Now, even the dour columnist is laughing. He continued to smile as he watched her stand up and leave, covering the waist of her cotton shirt with a long piece of pale mink. “She’s the kind of girl you could take home to your mother,” he groped, “if you can trust your father, of course.”
