21 February 2005
Look at me, indeed
Someone asked for a Sandra Dee memory, and the one that jumps into my head most immediately is a scene from the otherwise-ghastly Doctor, You've Got to Be Kidding, in the beginning of which she is not only not lousy with virginity but is actually about to give birth, while three suitors beg for her hand in marriage. (In real life, this would exceed the expected number by about, um, three.)
The rest of the film is told in flashback, and at one point our heroine, putting her singing career on hold to the despair of her mother, has taken a secretarial job for a George Hamilton type, played conveniently by George Hamilton. While she takes dictation, we look over at George's desk, and we discover that the scuzzball has installed a mirror thereupon, and has trained it on Sandra's Certified Grade A legs. I need hardly point out that this was a traumatic experience for my thirteen-year-old Catholic-school self; between that and Goodbye Charlie, three years earlier, in which Debbie Reynolds plays a dead guy, it's a wonder I ever got through adolescence at all though, in my defense, I never actually sent letters to Brigitte Bardot or anything like that.