"I believe the modern flapper is more wholesome than her mother or grandmother," says Gloria. "The things they longed to do and dared not, she does naturally. She is herself."
is reminiscent of Sarah Bernhardt. Especially when she throws her head back.
It was one of those massive Allan Dwan sets. Ever since "Robin Hood," Mr. Dwan has been doing things in the grand manner. "Zaza" apparently held forth in settings that would have pleased, in point of size, a medieval monarch.
Background of Follies Girls
Lovely young things, presumably from the New Amsterdam, stood about waiting to be called.
Gloria, ensconced in the stellar chair, was surrounded by visitors—Fay Bainter, from the stage; a South American official's spouse, breathing rather heavily; miscellaneous admirers. Hands on hips, La Swanson rose and confronted Madame from Buenos Aires—or was it Chile?
Gloria has no vague voice. It is snappy Chicago-ese, untroubled by acquired inflections. Madame's daughter wished to go into the movies. Her father wouldn't hear of it.
But—"Oh, mother," pleaded daughter, "please let me try."
"That," nodded Gloria, "is just what I said to my mother."
"Really," cried the relieved lady, "isn't that wonderful?"
The substantial South American's permanent rave was kindly but firmly succeeded by an Ohio censor. Zaza had little in common with him. I am sure it was not his fault.
(Continued on page 104)
One of the Parisian back stage scenes of Miss Swanson's "Zaza."
How Zaza's Head-Dress Developed
Elinor Glyn was not to blame for the head-dress. Neither was Sam Wood, who used to direct Gloria. Maestro Wood told Mary Eaton, who lately glorified the Follies and is at present illuminating Paramount's Long Island City factory, and Mary Eaton told me, that he couldn't see that head-dress at all. Gloria liked it. Her red mouth curled around her little pointed teeth. She has been told, by Glyn and others, that she
