What is Diana Ross really like, really?

One day, the phone rang in my bedroom very early, In fact my husband and I were still in bed asleep. He answered  the phone, and then turned to me wide-eyed, saying “it’s Diana Ross”!!. She was in Atlantic City,  was a week away from embarking on her European tour, and was short one wardrobe assistant. Bob Mackie had recommended me. Could I fly to Atlantic City tomorrow to meet with her?

And so I did. A ticket was sent, a car was waiting to pick me up at the airport, and I was brought directly to meet her backstage where she was appearing at one of the big hotels. Right away it was discovered that both of us having the same first name was not going to work, and since she obviously was not about to change her name, I was asked to quickly choose a name for myself that she could call me. On the spot, what name do you choose? Diane -- too close. Dinah - nah. Beatrice, my middle name? Quaint, but not right. So I settled on “Dee”, and that’s what I became for as long as I worked with her.

People often ask me what Diana Ross is like. The impression often is that she is a grand diva. But that’s not what I saw. I saw someone who was driven to be the very best she could be, but who at the same time was also very protective of her hard earned stardom. She made sure that she enjoyed the best for herself in hotels, dining, clothing, jewelry, private planes and limos. She adored the police escorts she sometimes got leaving a concert and heading for the airport. But she also treated her musicians and crew to the finest in hotels, the best catered meals, and private planes to transport us around. In return she expected 110% from all of us.

There was always a bit of a push-pull dynamic between her and her musicians and crew. She kept the line very clear between her as “The Boss” (in fact, we all had to call her Miss Ross). She was not our pal, our girlfriend, our drinking buddy. Not at all. But at the same time she considered us all her tour family, and took very good care of us.

She insisted on signing all the checks, since she felt that was the only way to keep an eye on and some control of the money. This however, sometimes could be a problem. If she was exhausted from flying around, performing  and doing press,  a huge pile of checks to be signed would pile up, and pay day was sometimes late. 

One concert venue gave me an interesting insight into her. We were playing an old arena (in Hershey Pa.) and the dressing room they had set up for her leaved a lot to be desired. She usually was quite demanding about the privacy, decor, and everything else for her dressing room, but it was obvious that in this particular arena, those usual needs were not going to be met.  I mentioned something in apology, and she said “Oh Dee, I have seen far worse than this in my touring days with the Supremes. If its honestly the best they can do, you just have to go with it”.  I had seldom heard her refer to Motown days or Supreme days, so this was an interesting revelation.

Other than her body guard, I was probably the one who was closest to her for most of the concert. I got to the venue early, was shown the room which would be her dressing room. I organized how it could be draped or reconfigured to meet her needs. I surveyed the food and drink that was ordered for her to make sure nothing was forgotten. I set out her make-up on the table for her, put the shampoo in the bathroom, lined up her shoes. Once we got close to show time, where she was preparing, I was even the gatekeeper! If there was a knock on the door and her musical conductor, Joe Guercio, or her lighting designer Allen Branton wanted to see her, they had to ask me. I would then ask her if she would see them.

I would also set up her quick change areas for those incredibly fast wardrobe changes. Even those had very specific requirements. There had to be four walls and a roof drape for total privacy,  enough light to see well, a good mirror, a chair for her to sit on to make a shoe change, and a pot of hot coffee, which I had to struggle to make the exact right temperature. As she came rushing off stage, I would strip off her gown, and help her into her next gown. The shoes were the worst -usually high strappy sandals which I had to wrap around her ankles and thread through the buckle as fast as I humanly could, fingers shaking or not! Once I did it in record time and without thinking I slapped her on the butt as if to say, go girl! Then I realized what I had done. But she was off and on stage singing, and I don’t think she noticed.

I was also with her at the famed Central Park Concert that got rained out....but I’ll save that for another time. It deserves a post of its own!

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