LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
PAST Out |
by David Bianco |
Believe it or not, the founder of the profession of interior decorating wasn't a gay man. That credit goes to Elsie de Wolfe (1865-1950), a lesbian who bounced back from a mid-life career crisis and was able to build a profitable business out of her fine taste and style. Raised in Manhattan, de Wolfe was like many other wealthy American girls of her timeeducated abroad, presented at Queen Victoria's court, and accustomed to a life of genteel idleness. After "coming out"into society, that isde Wolfe lived with her parents and spent her time performing in amateur theatrical productions. Her father died in 1890 with gambling debts which left the family in poverty. Faced with the prospect of marrying or supporting herself, de Wolfe chose to pursue acting professionally. It couldn't have been an easy decision, since, at the time, acting was considered a disreputable occupation for women. Still, it was probably the best decision the strongwilled young lesbian could make. By 1890, de Wolfe had already met the woman who would be her companion for the next 40 years. Like de Wolfe, Bessie Marbury was from the privileged class but had determined to remain unmarried and make her own way in the world. Over the next several decades, Marbury earned a prosperous living as a theatrical producer and agentshe was the first to come up with the idea of representing European playwrights for the American stage. Her illustrious client list eventually included George Bernard Shaw and J. M. Barrie, the author of Peter Pan. De Wolfe and Marburyaffectionately known in their circle of friends and acquaintances as "The Bachelors"set up housekeeping together on New York's Gramercy Park in 1892. They became well-known for their Sunday salons, where anyone from Sarah Bernhardt to Oscar Wilde was likely to show. Meantime, de Wolfe's stage career was not what she had envisioned, and critics agreed that she was not a gifted thespian. "Miss de Wolfe's treatment of the role has nothing to commend it but a sort of mute pathos," one reviewer remarked of her Broadway debut. What did make her stand out, however, was her great style. Recognizing her impeccable taste in clothes, producers let her choose her own costumes, which she purchased from Paris designers and wore with tremendous flair. Dressmakers attended her performances just to view the latest French fashions and then make knockoffs for American buyers. A review of one of de Wolfe's performances reported this "conversation" between two female theater-goers: Q: What did you think of Miss de Wolfe? A: I thought she was splendid in the second dress. At age 39, de Wolfe realized she would never be anything on the stage but a showpiece and decided to retire. Marbury suggested that she redecorate their home on Irving Place, and de Wolfe threw herself into it wholeheartedly. In what was considered a radical departure from Victorian style, de Wolfe had the dark wood paneling painted white, got rid of the heavy velvet curtains, made liberal use of light-colored cotton chintz fabric, and incorporated 18th-century French furniture, which she bought in Europe long before it was considered chic to purchaserather than inheritantiques. If she could do it for the home she shared with Marbury, why not for others? Aided by Marbury's contacts, de Wolfe received her first big commission to decorate the interior of the Colony Club, New York's first private clubhouse for women. When the building opened on March 12, 1907, de Wolfe became hotter than she had ever been onstage. More commissions quickly followed, and her greatest coupdecorating multimillionaire Henry Clay Frick's mansionmade her rich. Her simple and light decoration set the style for middle- and upper-class interiors for the next 50 years. Eventually, de Wolfe and Marbury grew apart, with de Wolfe spending more and more time in Europe and Marbury becoming actively involved in New York's Democratic Party. In 1920, they left their Gramercy Park house to move to a wealthy lesbian enclave on Sutton Place, where friends Anne Morgan and Anne Vanderbilt had already bought brownstones. Others soon followed and society gossip magazines reported the mass departure uptown by "a certain element of society women" created "an avalanche of controversy of a racy variety." In 1926, at the age of 60, de Wolfe shocked everyone, including Marbury, when she married Sir Charles Mendl, a British nobleman. There was a brief break with Marbury, but Mendl smoothed things over between the women when he assured Marbury that the marriage was purely one of convenience. Marbury proved to be an incredibly good sport about the marriage: When she died in 1933, she left her entire estate to de Wolfe. In 1935, de Wolfe published her autobiography, which obliterated her Sapphic past. In it, she fabricated a longterm heterosexual affair with an unnamed married European, calling him the great love of her life and the reason for her many unmarried years. As Lady Mendl, de Wolfe spent the next 25 years perfecting the role of hostess and teaching others, including the Duchess of Windsor, the art of entertaining. On July 12, 1950, de Wolfe died at her estate in Los Angeles; her final words were reportedly the outraged cry, "They can't do this to me. I don't want to go." David Bianco is the author of Gay Essentials ( www.alyson.com ), a collection of his history columns. He can be reached at DaveBianco@aol.com. |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 2, Mar. 10, 2000. |