In order of appearance: Rhett Butler (played by Clark Gable) of 1939 film Gone with the Wind; Royal Tenenbaum (played by Gene Hackman) of 2001 film The Royal Tenenbaums; Baron Bror Blixen (played by Klaus Maria Brandauer) in 1985 film Out of Africa; Max Bialystock (played by Zero Mostel) in 1968 film The Producers; and Marceau the gamekeeper (played by Julien Carette) and Marquis Robert de la Cheyniest (played by Marcel Dalio) in 1939 film Rules of the Game.

Blow ended her life in 2007 by swallowing weed killer - a horrific yet poetic death. It’s amazing how someone can be so joyous and yet so dark - something that was often said of her protege Alexander McQueen following his 2010 suicide.  So many of my muses end badly.

Her ingenuity went far beyond color-coordinating fabrics: de Wolfe pioneered the wall light switch, invented the bed rest with arms and an armchair that transforms into a chaise longue, introduced drawers to vanity tables, and laid down the first parquet floors. She popularized chintz and pillows embroidered with sayings. 

She also hugely influenced how Americans entertained.  Many credit de Wolfe with inventing the concept of the cocktail party; at her own such fêtes, she served “Pink Lady” cocktails (1/3 gin, 1/3 grapefruit juice, 1/3 Cointreau).  Through columns in the Ladies’ Home Journal and her own book, The House in Good Taste (1914), she advised women that “plates should be hot, hot, hot; glasses cold, cold, cold; and table decorations low, low, low” - excellent advice to remember as we set our holiday tables this season. 

Even under extreme circumstances, ole’ Elsie found inventive ways to entertain.  For example, during World War II, de Wolfe—on a strict wartime budget—gave a celebrated dinner at the Automat, in which she covered the restaurant’s tables with her own linens, china, and silver.  Guests, of course, picked their own entrées. 

De Wolfe also popularized the “Take one thing off” rule,” meaning that she always used to make herself take one item off before she left the house: a bracelet, a necklace, whatever; it could have been a headband with a huge tulle bow in her case. Practice this sage approach as you dress for holiday parties this year—unless, of course, you are only wearing one thing to begin with.

Learn more about Elsie de Wolfe in Ms. Blume’s book Let’s Bring Back and her upcoming book about vintage cocktails.

Readers of my book Let’s Bring Back likely already know that I’m cuckoo about absurd old flea circuses, which regularly enthralled crowds until the 1930s.  At these sideshows, fleas performed (or appeared to perform) all sorts of circus acts; visitors peered down at these tiny performers through magnifying lenses. One of the most famous Victorian flea circus performances was the “Extraordinary Exhibition of the Industrious Fleas” by L. Bertolotto (sometimes described as the “Andrew Lloyd Webber of Flea-biz”). It featured fleas that danced, played instruments, and pulled tiny chariots.

The wife of one famous flea circus artist allegedly made him wear a flea collar to bed.

I wrote about the friendship between these iconic artists in my latest book, It Happened Here.  In the 1950s and ‘60s, Dali took residence in suite 1610 in New York City’s St. Regis hotel each winter.  There he and Warhol drank together at the King Cole Bar and presided over outlandish parties in Dali’s rooms.  At one riotous fete, Dali reportedly tied Warhol to a board, spun him around, and spattered him with paint - very Jackson Pollock-esque.

“I should never have switched from Scotch to Martinis.”