Dualing Gildas

I have quite a history with two differing famous women, connected by one shared name: Gilda.

The first famous woman? The legendary screen icon, Rita Hayworth. 

She’s best known for her portrayal of the film noir siren, Gilda.

When I saw her in that stunning 1946 film, I was thoroughly convinced she was a woman reveling confident in her beauty. No hint of insecurity for miles!

That beautiful black strapless gown with its matching opera length gloves…

That red hair cascading over her shoulders…

That pin up figure…

What wasn’t to love about screen legend, Rita Hayworth, behind that character?

By the time I was thirteen, she was one of my earliest beauty icons. And I decided to try to mimic her. It did not go well. I dyed my hair red twice in one summer. Twice. “Copper Penny” was the name of the hair color. By the way, I have “olive” skin, a yellow base to my skin. Sometimes referred to, in all of its glamour as “sallow.” So, mix an olive complexion with copper penny hair and what do you get?

The look of Jaundice.

Plus, I had a mullet, but that’s another story.

Anyway, Rita made me dream of movie star beauty and the promise of its perfection. However, even Rita Hayworth had a more complicated back story going on.

Originally born Margarita Carmen Cansino, of Spanish and Irish-English heritage, Hollywood studio head, Harry Cohn was so bothered by her appearance, he changed her name to the “less ethnic” last name of Hayworth. From there, Rita underwent her Hollywood makeover. Her hair was dyed red and her hairline was raised, via electrolysis.

So, we see, even the beauty Rita Hayworth was not deemed acceptably beautiful until she changed some things about herself.

And, after her career skyrocketed and she became known as a movie star and a world- famous beauty, things did not get easier. We now see how fragile she was at accepting herself.

“Men fell in love with Gilda, but they wake up with me.”

“Rita Hayworth: Portrait of a Love Goddess” (1977) by John Kobal

Beauty did not equal a perfect, happy life. In spite of portraying “Gilda,” the real, struggle-filled woman existed behind that glossy Hollywood image. Rita was married and divorced numerous times,  was addicted to alcohol and, sadly, succumbed to complications from Alzheimer’s disease in 1987, at the age of 68.

She was a human being, susceptible to the human experience. Just like the rest of us.

As alluring as the Gilda character may be, she pales in comparison to the textured, flawed, meaningful and real Rita.

And, speaking of real, the stage is set for another influential Gilda, Gilda Radner.

“Because I was not a perfect example of my gender, I decided to be funny about what I didn’t have instead of worrying about it.”

Shouldn’t we dare to live the more dimensionally accurate reality of ourselves?

"Having cancer gave me membership in an elite club I'd rather not belong to."

And so it goes.

Which Gilda? Why, Gilda? Femme fatale fiction? Funny, awkward namesake? It’s our choice.

We cannot live removed from the truth of who we are.

Copyright © 2020 by Sheryle Cruse