By People Staff
December 15, 1975 12:00 PM

Kiss, Kiss

A health spa called Anatomy Asylum, with an adjoining salad bar, Ruffage, is where the Beverly Hills element is dining and whining these middays. Such diverse physical specimens as Sally Struthers, Woody Allen, Diana Ross, Natalie Wood, Perry (Mandingo) King and Cher have been lured by the 75-minute, $4 exercise classes; the $2.75 luncheon salad featuring gobs of mushrooms, peppers, cauliflower and cucumbers; and the bonhomie laid on by co-owner Richard Simmons, who is wont to greet special female clients with busses on their tushies.

The Hissperjet

Alexander Calder’s airy “mobiles” often seem to fly, and two years ago his art really soared when he splattered a Braniff jet with his colorful swirls. So pleased were airline officials that they asked Calder to create a special Bicentennial design. But when the paint dried, there amidst the stars and stripes was a bright red-winged snake writhing on an engine pod. Before the plane’s recent unveiling in Washington, D.C., uptight executives had Calder’s so-called “ani-mule” pod replaced. Was the artist upset? Not at all—in fact, Calder, who collected a $100,000 fee for the job, attended the ceremony with his wife, Louisa. Besides, with the christening over, the ani-mule will soon be restored.


It may seem like from here to eternity since Marilyn Monroe stood over a subway grating clutching vainly at her billowing skirt, but she filmed The Seven Year Itch—and vamped for those famous publicity stills—only 20 years ago. Unless one believes James Jones. Unlike that other great American novelist who made his name with a WW II book, Jones has never cashed in on Monroe. But he insists that because “Marilyn was infrequently on time for work,” stand-in Gloria Mosolino modeled for some of the shots, including one used in promoting the film. How does he know? Gloria’s been Mrs. Jones for 19 years. But can he be sure? Says Jones, “That’s Gloria’s ass, all right.”

There’s Soup in My Girl

As proof that the legit theater’s where the action is, consider the road company of Absurd Person Singular. In Chicago, co-stars Judy Carne and Betsy von Furstenberg were already feuding when, in the middle of Act III, Betsy, unscripted, slowly emptied a glass of water (representing gin) down Judy’s back. TV’s “Sock-it-to-me” girl shortly retaliated by dashing some back in von Furstenberg’s face. As the curtain fell, admits Judy, “I went for her throat,” and cast members had to pull the two apart. To Carne, it was all “a bloody nightmare. I’ve never lost my temper before onstage. Sure, things happen in the wings. I’ve had my eyelashes pulled off, and I have beaten the hell out of a couple myself.” Betsy now laughs that “it’s all water under the bridge,” but Judy is still unamused. “At Laugh-In I took four buckets a week in the face,” she snaps. “Nobody gets away with throwing water at me.”

Fortunate Cookie

Maman can stop worrying over Princess Caroline of Monaco, 18, or at least that was the message of Paris fortune-teller Mme. Mafalda. On a visit to the gypsy’s Left Bank parlor, Caroline learned that she is “a girl in a hurry” but will live to 90. Marriage? Within five years to an “important man [who] has not appeared on the scene yet—he is very rich, has influence and is somewhat artistic.” Postmaritally, Mafalda foresees “one amorous adventure, but never divorce.” A massive financial coup is also in the cards. In sum, the Princess “will succeed because she is courageous, and will smile often” even though “sometimes in her heart she is not laughing.”


•”An historic moment,” declared Dennis (McCloud) Weaver in handing over his Screen Actors Guild presidency. That it was. Kathy Nolan, a star on TV’s old The Real McCoys and a runaway winner over four other contenders including character actor Whit Bissell and Claude (Movin’ On) Akins, became the union’s first female head at a challenging time—85 percent of the aptly acronymed SAG is unemployed.

•”It’s not that I don’t like it,” says the subject of the new Hollywood biography Lemmon, “I’m just bored by it. I can’t see why anyone would be interested in reading about the life of Jack Lemmon.”