Ginger Rogers interview

Ginger's Mama Speaks Her Piece
By Martha Kerr
Modern Screen
November 1938





I'VE BEEN learning about Ginger Rogers. I've learned that in the last six months she has been out only twice for dinner. I've learned what it is she wants out of life. I've even learned about her faults and her fears and her boy friends, and a little about the type of man she may marry. I've learned these things from the one person who knows her best, Lela Rogers, her mother.

Ginger was in California, finishing "Carefree" with Fred Astaire. Three thousand miles away, in New York City, Lela had set up housekeeping. It was their first separation. The rumors flew. They said Lela had leased that apartment so Ginger, overworked, could have a normal life between pictures. They also said Lela and Ginger had broken for good.
Neither report is true. Both hurt the Rogers women. "My job with Ginger is finished," Lela Rogers said to me. "Until a couple of years ago we discussed every problem, personal and business, together. Sometimes we differed, but in the end we always saw alike. Two years ago I realized Ginger was grown-up. She had to make her own decisions, her own mistakes. I had to be honest
with myself. I've never regretted any of my experiences. To me the greatest sins are those of omission . . . so I let Ginger alone . . . to learn. "And," Lela heroically admitted, "it is in those last two years that Ginger has made the most strides, become a woman. Certainly her acting shows it very clearly."
"However, you laid the foundation," I interrupted.

"You might call it that," she said. "To me Ginger is like a diamond on which a cutter has labored for years, bringing out every facet by careful work. But she was a good diamond to begin with. She had to be, or the work would have failed.

"I came East to take up my own life, to pick up the threads of my original writing career—to get away from the label 'Stage Mother.' As for breaking with Ginger, that, of course, is utterly ridiculous—plain idle chatter!"

Then she told me. Ginger telephones her every other night. And there are innumerable wires and letters in the inimitable Gingerish manner. One morning Lela received a brief telegram containing the simple single statement, "Time to get up."


Before Lela left, Ginger had started a new hobby, modeling. She had begun Lela's head in clay. All the time Lela packed, Ginger sat on the bed, staring with the intentness of the artist, trying to memorize her mother's features. After Lela arrived in New York, there came a cryptic wire: "Am glad you are going to have a good time but why did you have to take your head along?"

Also, the week of her mother's departure, Ginger had been invited to take part in a tennis tournament. She is a superb athlete, but of late has been working so hard at the studio that there was no time for tennis practice. So, accepting the invitation, Ginger called her pals with, "Listen, kids, you've got to practice tennis with me every night this week." The result was she won
all games until the semi-finals.
These were to be played the day after Lela left. On the train, Lela, whose humor is a great deal like her daughter's, wired, "If you don't win its bread and water for a week." The following morning she received, "It's bread and water, get it."

The minute Ginger heard about her sixweek vacation, the first she's had in years, she called Lela in New York with, "I don't know where we'll go, but when the time comes get ready to fly to me!"

And, as a surprise, she shipped Lela's car, equipped with four new tires, to

New York. Of course this is nothing new. With her first big pay check (it was a thousand dollars) Ginger took the whole thing and with it bought a brooch for her mother. And she designed that brooch.

Lela, too, is no slouch at surprises. It was she who gave Ginger the now famous soda fountain.

"I never dreamed how popular it would become. It's a boon for servants because all the guests insists upon making their own. Ginger doesn't drink, you know. She lives on malted milks and sodas. I gave her the fountain as a mark of luxury, as a way of saying, "You have arrived!"
Well, a mother-daughter friendship like that, with its attendant sense of humor, doesn't break.

As for the normal life . . .

"If any star's life is normal, it's Ginger's. And it's much easier to live normally in Hollywood than here in the East. Why, it took us two years to build our house. Twenty-five towns lie under our noses, we're ten minutes from the studio, and yet, we're so surrounded by hills that we're isolated. I didn't wear a pair of stockings all summer, or a summer dress; just lived in my bathing suit. Ginger goes to work in slacks. When I say work I mean work. You've got to be a trouper to get on top or stay on top.

"I wish you could see all her clothes hanging in the closet because she has no time to wear them. The night I left for the East we figured she had been out for dinner exactly twice in six months! She did manage to get to her own preview, but that, in its way, is work. But she was broken hearted because she couldn't get to Maggie's—Margaret Sullavan's, you know. Ginger is crazy about her. The night of that preview the studio kept Ginger until seven-thirty, and by the time she came home and had dinner, it was, as she said, 'As usual, too late.'

"Every Sunday we serve a buffet supper in our basement playroom and Ginger's gang comes—Maggie and Leland, Dorothy Fields, Bob Riskin, Phyllis Frazier, Jimmy Stewart.
"Ginger is the one who started all those quiz games that became such a fad. Every free night Bob Riskin would head one team, Dorothy Fields the other. And they would come armed with dictionaries and encyclopedias, literally playing for blood. It's great mental exercise, and Ginger loves it."

Of all Ginger's boy friends Lela seems to favor writer Robert Riskin. "He's the sweetest boy. Of course Ginger goes out a lot with Jimmy Stewart these days, but," Lela added significantly, "Jimmy manages to distribute himself among all the girls. He's very popular, you know."

She paused. Then, "Ginger has changed a great deal. Her faults have always been for blood. It's great mental exercise, and the chief fault of all the Rogers women, that of being too frank for their own good. Men don't like honest women. They're scared of them. It's always a straight 'Yes' or 'No' with Ginger, no side-stepping. She likes you or she doesn't. She's inherently honest, and that doesn't make for happiness. But if you're made that way there's nothing you can do about it. I know.

"Certainly, she has grown more serious. And her tastes have changed, especially in clothes. Her dresses used to be much too fancy. Now she is going in for the simple kind. She had to learn that by herself. Good taste grows as we grow.

"And," Lela Rogers hesitated, "this sounds unkind to the past, but, naturally, Ginger's taste in men has also changed. Nobody can bank on the idiosyncracies of love, but I have a hunch that the next important man in Ginger's life will be older and serious thinking, not just a boy. Heretofore, she's always had a youth complex, but now maturity has set in."
Her voice softened. "As Ginger's mother, I think I know what she wants. It may sound trite to say, but I know from the occasional remarks she lets fall, and the questions she asks, and the way she acts that the only thing Ginger wants out of life is what every girl wants if she is thoroughly honest with herself—a home and babies. Ginger is twenty-seven now.

I think in three years she will have her heart's desire. Why, everything she does points that way. All her spare time, those few rare minutes, goes to Brooke Heyward, Maggie's child. Ginger was so proud because Brooke paid her first call on us. Ginger took up knitting so she could make Brooke a sweater. And every once in awhile Ginger asks about babies, funny little details, and whether I think she is too old to have one." Mrs. Rogers laughed.

"Ginger, at twenty-seven, worrying about her age. But you can see what she is thinking about—in what direction her mind lies.

"Not that I think she could actually quit working for any great length of time. Ginger would never be happy idle."

She paused as a trim maid passed us iced coffee and little cakes. And I had time to sit back and study this Lela Rogers, whose face is stamped with living and work, and yet, who looks so much like Ginger, the expression around her mouth, the shape of her legs, a turn here and there. The sitting room makes a perfect background, with its white mantelpiece, its Venetian blinds, the vases alive with flowers, the chintz covered furniture.

On the mantel stood a picture of J. Edgar Hoover with the inscription "To Lela E. Rogers, in appreciation of a valued friendship." And on a table the only photograph of Ginger . . . Ginger wearing a plain sports frock, Ginger, her arms folded and looking straight at you with that frank, likeable stare of hers.
Lela Rogers looked at the picture too. "It's not easy," she said, "for a mother to talk about her daughter's faults. Every duck thinks her chick is white, but to me, Ginger's worst fault is the fact that when something bothers her she keeps it within herself. And it eats inside. I can always tell. Then I say, 'Out with it!'
ONCE I said this and she began, 'Pan (meaning producer Pandro Berman) said three months ago . . . '
"'Three months ago!' " I shouted. "And you've been worrying about this all that time! Go to him and have it out! When she used to be afraid to do that, I often started the battles for her."
"In that instance Pan had promised Ginger she did have to work with a certain person, and there he was, cast just the same. Please don't misunderstand, the person was not Astaire.
And then Lela Rogers made a startling and generous announcement. "I consider the success of their pictures due to Fred Astaire. He is tireless, painstaking, a glutton for perfection. And he fights for what he wants. So he fought for Ginger too. He was the first person to insist upon having a dance photographed all the way through. The producer said it would lose camera interest. They wanted to shoot away to a man chewing gum, a woman powdering her nose. Astaire said, 'If you don't do it my way, you don't get the dance!' So they gave in. And you know the result. He must have things right, or not at all. Because Ginger was his partner and believed as he believed, he fought for her rights, too. By herself, she never would have fought.

"For, believe it or not, Ginger has a great inferiority complex. She thinks everybody is better than she is. Do you know she was scared to death to tackle a dramatic part? And now, I believe that's the only kind she should go in for. Why, she was frightened stiff to act with Hepburn! Ginger is a square shooter. Give the other fellow a scene, and she practically turns her back.
You can notice this in 'Vivacious Lady.' When it was Jimmy's turn, the camera was his. But Ginger knew Hepburn is an actress with every trick up her sleeve and ready to use them all. She felt she never could stand a chance playing in the same picture with Hepburn weaving around her. She herself felt she was no match as an actress. But she has will power. So she went to it. It was her job and Ginger faced it. When it comes to her own faults I must say she is painstaking about trying to overcome them. She has more will power than anyone I ever saw."
And I thought to myself, no wonder, she comes by it naturally. For what other mother would have the nerve to walk out and just stand by while her chick fends for itself? Only one with tremendous will power of her own—one like Lela Rogers.


That had photos with it, but I couldn't ever get them to work.  Sorry about that!


Ginger Question of the Week:  Um....maybe I don't need to do this--I can't ever think of a question.  How about: If you could meet Ginger Rogers somewhere, where would you choose.  It could be anywhere from her soda fountain to the RKO lunch room.

Pinkie

Ginger Rogers answers, "Do I get what I want from life?"

Another interview I found....  This is Ginger's answer to the question, "Do I get what I want from life?"

"Yes, I get what I want from life," said Miss Virginia Rogers to me, "except---except for one thing---I want to go to college!"

"College?" I echoed stupidly, "you want to go to college?" I had expected anything but that. Some nostalgic reference, however, reticent, to the recently divided home of young Mr. and Mrs. Lew Ayres. Some faintly spoken regret, perhaps, for the mortality of young love....

But---Yes," laughed Ginger, laughing at me, not herself, "yes---why not? Lots of professional women do go, you know. Maybe I will, someday. There are so many things I'd like to learn. And would get so much out of college if I could go now---more than I would have gotten a few years ago. I'd know now what I want to study, what course I want to take. I've learned concentration---dancing teaches you that. I've learned patience, I think. I'd care more about learning than I would have cared a few years ago. I'd be able to choose what I want and to go after it.

"I really think that I only woke up four years ago. Before that I was asleep or numb, or something. Perhaps it's just that I've grown up. My ideas, like my face, are shaping differently, losing baby contours. I seem to see everything in sharper focus. I don't believe that I saw anything at all---not really---four years ago."
I had been watching Ginger and Fred rehearsing. Tirelessly. Almost religiously---over and over again, perfecting perfection. And watching Ginger, in pale yellow overalls, pale green polo shirt, red-gold hair flying...I'd thought: She has everything she or any other girl ever wanted from life. Yes, in spite of what may have grieved her and caused her separation from Lew. For she is young and famous and wounds heal swiftly for the young, and the rainbow is still arched and her dancing feet are only beginning the arc...She has youth and beauty and fame and jewels. She has riches. She has a mother who adores her. She has cars and friends and fine feathers. And she has Fred Astaire for a dancing partner. She is tops at the box office. There is nothing lacking---nothing that can be replaced or achieved. And then we sat down to luncheon in the RKO commissary and Ginger sipped iced tea and nothing else---because she was rehearsing again after luncheon and one can't rehearse on a full tummy. And I told her what I had been thinking, or some of it. I said: "You have got everything you ever wanted from life, haven't you? In spite of---" Ginger broke in, grinning, "But I never wanted very much. I never thought about it---"

No but---" I said, "all your dreams have come true, haven't they? All young girls of having fame and riches and---and love. And so you must have dreamed. And even if some dreams never stay true, forever, you've had them all, haven't you?"
And Ginger's pale young face, guiltless of any make-up, framed by that tawny silk hair sobered as she said: "Of course, I haven't got everything. No. Wait---I haven't got everything only because there is no such thing. I mean, there is no such thing as having everything. We are all mortal and being mortal means being limited, and so none of us has capacity for everything. No one can have everything. Because for every dream dreamed there arises another dream. For every hope hoped there emerges another hope." And I found myself thinking "And for every love does there arise another love to take the old love's place?" And Ginger replied: "It is an old saying and a true one---that the more we have the more we want. It's like eating---the more you eat the more can eat! 'Everything' is limitless, don't you see? There is no end to it."

"NO, NO, for anyone to make the boast that he or she has everything is like going to school and graduating and then saying: 'Well, now, I know all there is to know. I never need to read another book or hear another lecture or study another subject.' So stupid, that attitude. Because the thrill and the glory and the whole come-on of living is just because there are no limits. There is no saturation point. For every goal is, when you have reached it, only a sign-post pointing the way to the next goal. The end is never reached.
"I certainly never dreamed of being an actress, of all things! I never thought about having a lot of money. Mother earned what would be called a sensible amount of money as a newspaper women---enough to make us comfortable. The people I knew then all lived nicely, but modestly. I never thought about movie stars and their fabulous lives at all...but, if I had thought about them, I would have put them in the same fantastic category as Alice In Wonderland or something like that.

"I never thougt about having a lot of money because I really need so little. If I cared about the things that money can buy I wouldn't go about as you see me now, dressed in cotton overalls anda dollar sweat-shirt. Oh, I like to get all tricked out now and then and go out with a crowd and have fun. But I can live without expensive clothes and still be happy. I don't give a darn for jewels. My first ermine coat didn't make a different girl of me.

"When I was a little girl I only had one ambition that I can remember---I wanted to be a school-teacher. I think that was because I adored my English teacher. She lived at home with us for a term or two and I used to think that anyone so pretty and gentle and wise would be the perfect one to copy. I wanted to be just like her.
"NO, honestly, you can't have everything in a world so 'full of a number of things.' I'd like to go to college as I've said. I'd like to try to write. I don't know whether I could write or not, but I'd love to have the time to try. I'd like to compose music, too. I don't say that I could do that, either---though I have written a song or two.---but I would like the time to work at it. I'd like to have the time to be a little bit domestic. I think I really am a housewife at heart. Most girls are, if you strip off the cellophane wrappings of their professional lives, whatever they may be..." (And I found myself wondering whether this may be the Why Of It...whether the little housewife-at-heart who hasn't time to be a housewife might be the explantion of a little wife who doesn't perhaps, have time to be a wife? For Ginger is, I think, essentially whole-hearted. And where she couldn't give her whole heart and her whole time and her whole devotion she would rather not give at all...)

"You know," Ginger was saying, "I have to live in my own house as I would live in a hotel. I never get the time even to plan a menu. I never have the least idea what I'll have to eat from one meal to the next. I never have the least idea what I'll have to eat from one meal to the next. I never have time to count the linens, to arrange flowers, to fuss over things---and I'd love to. When the maid tells me that we need three more table-cloths, I phone a shop and tell them to send me three new table-cloths and then I never see them until they are on the table.
"I'd like to be able to go out more---to do silly, on -the-spur-of-the-moment things, like going on picnics and down to Venice to do the chute-the-chutes and things. But I'm usually too tired when I come home from the studio to do anything except fall into bed and to sleep. When I'm rehearsing I do go out now and then just to keep in step with life. But when we're in production it swallows us whole and we're seen and heard no more---save on the sound stages."

AND how would that go, I thought, with marriage...? Marriage and its multiple demands. The studio and its slavery.  I am afraid.

"So you see," said Ginger, "all of the many things I have---this 'everything' you speak of---I can't use. I remind myself of Midas---everything he touched turned to gold but what good did it do him? He couldn't eat gold. He couldn't inhale any fragrance from golden flowers. And when he turned the one object he loved more than anything or any person in the world, his little daughter, he could get no warmth or affection from her---for she, too, had turned to gold!"

(Perhaps, I thought, perhaps Ginger was saying more than she knew, revealing more than she thought...for may it no be that, here in Hollywood under the greedy grasp of the Studio...young, ardent, hopeful marriages, like Midas's daughter, also turn to gold?)
"I have things" said Ginger, "and more than just things, I know. I have clothes, but I have no chance to wear them. I'd like to do some personal shoping now and then. I'd like to window shop and hunt for bargains and try things on, the way girls like to do. I can't. When I need new clothes I phone again. I call a shop and tell them to send me three or four dresses and then I choose the most likely one and I can't wear them because I haven't been able to shop for the right accessories for them...."

Ginger paused for a moment and looked out the window...spread before her Irish blue eyes were the mammoth sound stages, the machine shops, the offices, the gardens, the whole vast body of the study where she reigns supreme---a star...and I wondered what she was thinking, what values she was weighing in her mind. She didn't say. I knew that she wouldn't say. For if she talked to one she would have to talk of all---and there are some matters even a star cannot be expected to discuss with all.

SHE said finally, "I'd love to have a baby. Of course, I would, naturally. I shall adopt one some day. It seems to me," said Ginger, her bright blue eyes wistful, as if asking a question, "that it is just as fine to adopt a baby as it is to have your own. Don't you think? To choose a baby beacause of all the babies you have see that baby is the one you want most? I sort of agree with Kathleen Norris when she said recently, that the real motherhood is to love every baby born and not only the babies born to you...
"Movie babies certainly cost a lot, too," Ginger laughed, her eyes coming back from Neverland. "I read in a recent article somewhere that a certain very big star's last baby cost her exactly $150,000---because of her having to be out of production so long. Time is very valuable to a movie star.

"You see, I am emphasizing the fact, now, that there is no such thing as having everything that meets the eye. I know that other girls must wonder wht there is left for me to want. That's what I'm trying to tell them. And I'm not disparaging the things I have. I not making light nor little fun of fame, so-called, of money and success and all that. Not for one minute. I'm happy. I wouldn't change places with little Susie Glutz who works in an office for anything. Even though Susie is probably just as happy as I and with just as good reasons. Even though Susie is certainly normal and I'm not. Because we are not really normal, not when we are 'movie stars.' We can't be. It is very much, I think, like running a temperature all of the time. And, after awhile, we get so keyed up that we couldn't live any other way. We would feel depressed and weak if we didn't hit high pressure every instant. I know that I work better, the harder the pressure. It is literally true that the less time I have, the more I can accomplish.

"I ENJOY 'fame.' I really love it. I get a kick out of being recognized and praised and spoiled. There are times when it is tiresome, of course. But there are times when everything is tiresome. There are also times, most times, when it is thrilling and satisfying to find my name in electric lights. I enjoy the fan letters and the compliments and the consideration of being a star. I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit it.
"But just because I do love it and value it, there is a drawback. I think it must be something like having a very beautiful and successful child for whom you have worked every night and day, whom you have watched grow and for whom you feel a great love, a great pride of possession. And just because you love it so much, that love is hot through with fear. For supposing anything should happen to it? Supposing that you should lose it.

"That's the way I feel about my work. Supposing something should happen---the industry or to my part in it? Of course I'd be hurt. Terribly hurt. I'd hate it. I'd be miserable. So that even when you do have everything, presumably, in the work you are doing, at any rate---even that is marred by the fear of loss, accident, of fate..."

In the doorway the assistant director was beckoning. Ginger waved a hand. "Time to go," se said to me. "I can't be five minutes late. I'm always late for everything, except my work. They've got me trained in the studio. So...I guess we can about sum it up like this: I get everything I want from Life except---TIME. Time to go to college, time to be a housewife, time to shop and play and experiment, time to have a baby, time to be normal..."

Can you read between these lines? I can.





I know that's a long interview, but it's a very fun read.  I have found more interviews, and I will eventually try to post all of them.




Pinkie

Truth or Consequences Interview with Ginger Rogers--Photoplay, July 1939

Truth or Consequences with Ginger Rogers
With Game Conductor Katherine Hartley
Photoplay, July 1939

So you thought you knew everything there is to know about Ginger Rogers! Well, this is no picture of a serious careerist, it's the fun-loving Ginger, who jumps into this old game of truth or consequences with the zest that makes her beloved by studio workers and stars alike. She coiled quits on six of the questions—the forfeits she paid an pictured on the opposite page
but think of all the fun in store for you imagining what her answers should have been.
Of what personal accomplishment are you most proud?
The sketch I did of Madame Maria Ouspenskaya is the one thing that really tickles me; it was one of the first sketches I undertook. I had seen her in a film with Garbo and had been interested by her face. I had never met her, but after I finished the sketch, working from a photograph—it took me three or four weeks altogether—I invited her to dinner so that she might see it, too. If she hadn't liked it as much as I did, I believe I would never have recovered from the disappointment.
In what other actress have you noticed a resemblance to yourself?
Just recently in watching Priscilla Lane on the screen I had the funny feeling that I knew her—there was something so familiar about her. I realized then that it was because we are somewhat alike; not our features particularly, but our expressions, mannerisms or something—just what it is, I can't explain.
What famous personality would you most prefer to meet and why?
There are so many I'd like to meet that I can't name them all here, but I believe I'd feel most honored to meet Leopold Stokowski and Professor Albert Einstein. I'm sure I would have nothing of interest to say to them, but if I could only listen in on a conversa- tion they might be having with some- one else, someone else who would know how to probe them intelligently, that would be wonderful!
Have you ever taken part in a blind date and what were the circumstances?
No. Mysteries of that kind don't interest me.
Do you ever read beauty articles, seeking some beauty secret for yourself?
I'm an easy mark for any and every advertisement which promises that a certain product will make me ravishing. If it's a lipstick, I promptly send for a half dozen and then, after trying them briefly, I invariably return to my original stand-by.
When have you ever consciously imitated someone?
Never consciously, but I always unconsciously pick up the accent or intonation of the person with whom I am talking. Just recently, at lunch
with an European, he accused me of making fun of him, saying, "You talk at me, like me." It took me twenty minutes to convince him that it was unintentional and that I was not ridiculing him. It's a very embarrassing
quality.
When you have a man opponent at some sport, tennis for example, do you ever deliberately throw a game his way, on the theory that men do not like to be beaten by women?
I should say not! I love to beat a man and I always play to win. I get a big kick out of it And if he doesn't enjoy it, so much the better! I'm for the woman-winner every time, in everything.
Which photographic angle of your face do you consider the best?
Do you mind if I say, "Behind the ears"? And I am not being facetious! I saw a rear view of my head for the first time on the screen just recently, and I couldn't help it, I thought that view of me was kind of cute.
What is your most successful disguise for avoiding recognition in public?
I've tried everything, but nothing is fan-proof. The only really sure way to avoid recognition is not to go out.
What was the most tomboyish physical feat of your childhood?
I was runner-up in a broad-jumping contest once. But my greatest dream was to become a champion pole vaulter, though I never got any farther at that than over the back fence on the prop-stick for the washline.
What has caused your keenest embarrassment?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Let us reproduce one of your drawings.)

Caption: Imagine asking a gal Question 11! Well, Ginger wouldn't answer—but she did let us print one of her drawings (top)—a sketch of Madame Ouspenskaya—good, too, we say.
Do you really enjoy opera, or do you go because it is the fashion?
I can't say I enjoy all operas, but I only go to those I really like. I have seen eighteen different operas, and while I wouldn't like to see all of those again, there are three of them which really appeal to me: La Tosca, Carmen and The Barber of Seville.
Are you a back-seat driver?
No, I'm as meek as a mouse because I know that most anyone drives better than I do.
With what man star, with whom you have not worked, would you most like to make a film?
Gary Cooper.
In what ways do you enjoy being "elegant"?
I enjoy having a fabulous amount of nice lingerie, and two clean changes a day make me feel very luxurious.
When have you ever been a wall-flower?
So many times you wouldn't believe it!
What other languages beside English do you speak?
Pig Latin! I took a postgraduate course from Jimmy Stewart who is a past master.
Who or what on the screen gives you the greatest pain?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Give us a picture of yourself showing how the well made up woman of 1939 does not look.)

Caption: Question 18 was another stopper, but the consequence really wasn't meant to frighten little children. It's how the well made up woman of 1939 does not look.
On a date, what typically feminine bluff have you indulged in recently?
Pretending to notice that I just that moment got a run in my hose when I knew that I had it an hour before.
In what difficult action shot have you recently used a double?
In "Carefree" a man double did some bicycle riding for me—not because I can't ride, but because the riding had to be done downhill over a bumpy terrace and end in a spill.
With whom have you had a long feud and why?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Let us print a photo from your vacation album—in a most unglamorous pose.)

Caption: Feuding is something Ginger doesn't talk about. Result: the forfeit on Question 21 is this unglamorous pose taken from her snapshot album.
When you are eating alone are you ever careless about your table manners?
Yes, I eat fast and furiously—but then my table manners are nothing to brag about even when I'm with others. When I'm hungry I like to eat, not
dawdle.
At what age, and in what circumstances did you have your first unrequited love?
He was in knee pants and I was still wearing socks.
If a surprise caller found you ungroomed, in old clothes, with your hair not fixed and your face not made up. Would you try to excuse yourself or pass it off with nonchalance?
I have done both. It all depends on the caller.
When a book is being discussed, have you ever pretended to have read it when you have not, and how did you bluff your way through?
I usually try to switch the conversation to some book which I have read—it's the safest way out.
With whom do you most enjoy going out?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Have a picture taken riding "no hands" on your bicycle.)

Caption: Rumor has it that there is only one answer to Question 26, but Ginger preferred to have a picture taken riding "no hands" on her bicycle rather than reveal her secret.
Do you notice men's clothes and do you consider smart dressing important for a man?
Yes—and definitely!
Are you a good speller?
I can't spell anything! I can't even write a letter without resorting to the dictionary.
Do risque jokes amuse you?
Very seldom, and I prefer not to be told them.
In what ways are you easily embarrassed?
When someone tries to tell me one.
What is your disposition when you get up in the morning?
Quietly grouchy.
Who is the best dancer with whom you have ever danced off the screen?
George Murphy. I have only danced with him once, but I believe he is perfect.
Have you any immediate plans to alter your marital situation?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Write something for us in Pig Latin.)

Caption: The example of Ginger's Pig Latin is her punishment for refusing to answer.
[Translation: Talking pig latin is a fine art... It is also fun because you can say what you want and people don't know what you say or do they?]
What kind of bridge player are you?
I have progressed beyond the auction stage.
How many song records made by yourself do you have in your own collection, and which is. your favorite?
I have them all, but none is my favorite. I only play the records to hear my mistakes— and then I always swear I'll never make another!
Are you subject to freckles?
Yes. Nice big fat ones, and what's more, I like 'em!
What early experience has most affected your life or philosophy?
Going into the movies!
What T.L (Trade Last) have you recently exchanged with a friend?
I can't remember, but I have one for Margaret Lindsay.
Are you a good loser?
Yes, I think I am. My friends tell me I am anyway.
In what ways are you stubborn?
I never say die on anything!
Are you the kind of reader who can't refrain from glancing at the end, before finishing a book?
I never do. I like to be surprised.
What subjects do you film most with your candid camera?
Sports events.

Do you dislike candid camera shots of yourself?
Yes. I feel that it is unfair for a photographer to take advantage of an actress by photographing her when she is not prepared—particularly if she is disheveled, as in the wind at a polo match—and I have on occasions tried to beg out of such shots. It's not a question of being a bad sport, because I feel the same way when a cameraman takes the same unfair advantage of other actresses, too. Showing an actress at her worst accomplishes nothing—and it disappoints the fans as well.
What household task do you usually perform?
As long as I must be honest, none. Not that I can't, but I don't have the time for it these days.
On what occasions do you drop your dignity and shout and yell?
At prize fights and wrestling matches.

At which do you think you are the greatest success, as hostess or as guest?
Hostessing doesn't seem to be in my line. I'm always a guest, even at my own parties.
Has any of your artwork ever been sold?
No.
Do you have any of your own art efforts displayed in your home?
I have two framed and hanging in the library; the sketch of Madame Ouspenskaya and one of Irving Berlin.
What unkindness have you ever done which you now regret?
I always regret having blamed somebody for something without waiting to hear both sides of a story. It's snap judgment, I suppose.
What curriculum did you follow in high school?
I was afraid you'd ask me that one—I never got to high school!
What small failing of your girlhood have you had to overcome?
Chewing my fingernails.
Now that Fred Astaire has left RKO, where you have made so many pictures together, do you believe that you will ever make another dancing picture?
I suppose so. I would like to concentrate on dramatic roles, but I am told that I shouldn't kill the goose that lays the golden egg—or something to that effect—so I won't be surprised, if I get a call for another dancing picture even before my legs and feet have rested up from the last one.
What extravagance might be called your weakness?
My weakness is nice hose and shoes, but it can't be called an extravagance because early in my career I waged a battle to have the studio supply me with them, since my dancing is so hard on shoes and stockings.
What things give you the jitters?
Hangnails and scraping sounds.
When you arrive at the age of thirty, will you be inclined to admit it, or will you hope to hide it?
I'll admit it I guess, but quietly. I don't see any reason for wearing it on my shirt front.
What slang phrase or exclamation is most characteristic of you?
There are two: "Oh gosh" and "For goodness sakes alive!"
Do you prefer men companions of your own age, or older, and why?
I like them about thirty; still young enough to be gay, yet old enough to be serious.
What one word would you choose to best describe your personality?
Miss Rogers took the consequences. (Write a limerick, using your own name Virginia, beginning "There was a young girl named Virginia.")

Caption: The limerick is forfeit on question 58.




Wow!  Two posts in one day!  That's pretty good for me!
I thought that interview was neat, so I had to share it with all of you guys.  Some of you have probably had already seen it before, but those of you who hadn't...I hope you enjoyed reading her answers!

Pinkie

My Favorite Photos of Ginger with Lew Ayres

That's at a barn dance...  Sorry--I know it's quite a bit blurry.  I have a better one, but I don't know what name I saved it under on the computer. 

A beautiful wedding cake!



Their Wedding Day :D  AWWW

At some Hollywood club

 That's not with Lew, but it does have something to do with him. 
That caption read, "Ginger Rogers is on the verge of tears as she files for divorce from her husband, Lew Ayres" 
This one doesn't really fall under my favorite category, but  it is about Lew.

Here she show up with ex-hubby Lew Ayres at a gathering.  That gave something for the reporters to talk about!

Just fishing together....they are so cute with each other!

 This is with mommy Lela.  I think this is when they finally announced their engagement.  I think they had kept it secret for a while.


Those are my favorites of them together.  They are not really all that "rare", but they're just my favorites.  Maybe I could do a post of just "rare" Lew and Ginger photos.  I found another one at the divorce proceedings, but I didn't want to have to more than one of that in this post.  I think it was rude for that reporter to take a photo of her crying, though.  That's just my opinion.
I found a really neat interview of Ginger, but I don't know how to do a link.  Do any of you know how to?  Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed the photos!

Ginger Question of the Week: um.....how about....What do you think Ginger's favorite ice-cream flavor was?

Pinkie

Storm Warning

Last night I watched Storm Warning.  It was a whole lot better thanI thought it would be.  I've never been a big fan of Ronald Reagan's acting ability, but I think this has been the best role he has had.  Ginger Rogers was beautiful in this film.  Not, as pretty as she was in The Major and the Minor, but still very beautiful.  The ending was a bit dissappointing, though.  I mean the very last scene was Ginger holding her dead sister, Doris Day in her arms.  Very sad ending!  I wish she could have pulled through.  I guess it was showing what would happen if you do not try to rid yourself of evil.  It was one of those type movies, where you are constantly thinking, "What would I do in this situation?"

That is definately my least favorite scene. 

That's a very interesting scene.  Good acting, but scary.  I do like how she finally stands up to him in that scene.  It REALLY shows his extremely bad character.

  Probably my favorite part of the whole movie.  She recognizes her brother-in-law as one of them.

That's just a colorized photo I found of it.

Overall, I do reccommend this film.  The plot is exciting, and keeps you were wondering, "What is going to happen next?  What will she do?  What would I do in this situation?"

On a different note, I finally bought Primrose Path!

A movie poster for it.  I'm not sure what is says, though...

 I am very excited about watching it.  She looks so cute in this one.  I'm sure it's going to be good.  The National Board of Review gave her best acting for this film.  I watched a scene of it off of the Warner Archives website.    I wish it would get here sooner, now! *sigh*

Ok...Ginger fans, I have seen other bloggers asking questions about their topic at the end of their posts, so I thought I might give it at try... 

Ginger Question of the Week: What was the first Ginger film you saw?  If it wasn't one that had Fred Astaire in it, do tell the first one you saw with them together in it, too. 
The first Ginger movie I saw was We're Not Married.  The first Astaire/Rogers musical I saw was Follow the Fleet.
Pinkie