What is my favorite color?

People often ask me what my favorite color is. That’s a tough one. It reminds me of when I asked my mother, who was the favorite of her children, my brother, my sister or me? Of course, I was hoping it would be me! But she said, “I love you all very much, but I love you each differently.” And so it is with color.

If I’m in the Caribbean looking out at the crystal clear water, I am sure my favorite color is aqua. But then in the spring, when I look at my Palo Verde tree covered in bright yellow blossoms, I think it must be yellow.

But I must say I am partial to a red dress!

There are a couple of iconic red dresses that are burned vividly and indelibly into my brain, never to fade. One was designed by the wonderful Aggie Guerard Rodgers for “The Color Purple” (for which she was nominated for an Oscar Award). It was worn by Whoopi Goldberg as “Celie,” and in the scene, she was running along the road towards her house. An ominous gray sky was behind her, which made the dark red dress become so much more intense as it swirled around her, and the whole mood felt intense and slightly dangerous.

The very first costume I designed for a major client was red and was for Ann-Margret. It was for a disco number (yes, disco..... this was a while back!) for her big nightclub act at Caesars Palace, and later the number was used on a TV special. I had already designed the outfits for the male dancers, and now I got to create a dress for the star. The first time she emerged on stage wearing my red dress was a moment I will never forget!

But if I am to define red, in a perfect world, it would be a beaded gown by Giorgio Armani on exhibit in Rome at a retrospective of the fashion designer’s work. I was in Rome on holiday and read about the Armani exhibit mounted at the ancient Roman Baths of Diocletian.

We entered the exhibit, and the first cavernous room was exceedingly dark. I wondered who would be so perverse as to not light an exhibit so one could see it! But as our eyes gradually adjusted, we could begin to see display cases of the designer’s subtly colored and understated daywear emerging from the shadows. The shapes were uncluttered, slightly androgynous, and executed in his “greige” palette. But then we entered the next room, also dark. A single spotlight mounted up high shone onto a red beaded gown, and I gasped. The way our eyes had adjusted to the dim light in the previous room must have accentuated the brilliance of this dress. To me, it was the essence of red. The ultimate red. I shall never forget it.

Las Vegas, my kind of town!

It's hard to believe that when I first stayed at Caesar's Palace (working with Ann-Margret), it looked pretty much like this! Well, in 1974, there had been one extension of the original tower, but I stayed in the round building in the center.

My connection with Las Vegas started in 1961, with a 30-minute stopover in the downtown train station on Main Street at 2 am. I was a very young dancer with the "My Fair Lady" National Company, and we were traveling from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles. The 1970s, when I frequently visited for work with Ann-Margret, Raquel Welch, and Diana Ross, introduced me to the then-small town of Las Vegas in a proper fashion, and in 1980 and 1981, I spent a great deal of time here preparing the costumes for "Jubilee."

At that time, Las Vegas was still small. You could cross Las Vegas Boulevard directly; there were no overpasses. There was no 10 lane freeway running by it. The desert was a few blocks away. The airport was small. I don't even remember noticing the mountains all around...the focus was all on The Strip.

I wasn't prepared for the change when I returned in the late '80s. The airport had exploded! By this time, I was working full time as a costume designer for TV series and films in Hollywood and occasionally came up to Las Vegas to shoot on location. Las Vegas already felt somewhat like home.

And now it is home! As I was driving to the airport early this morning to drop off some friends, I admired the clear blue skies and the mountains on all four sides again. Do I pine for the old days? Absolutely not! So, there may be more cars. Still, my city is continually re-inventing itself with new hotels, stadiums, entertainment venues, and university buildings. And as I chronicle in my upcoming book, I too have had to re-invent myself several times….from ballet dancer to Broadway dancer to actress to costume designer. And now, author. Please watch for my book, coming out in the spring.

DIANA ROSS CONCERT IN CENTRAL PARK, 1983!

I recently did an interview with journalist Dustin Fitzharris (for The Huffington Post and The Village Voice) about my memories of the famed Diana Ross Concert in Central Park in 1983  that got seriously interrupted by a sudden storm. Those words barely cover the strength of the storm - I think of it as an almighty near-mythical "tempest"!!

The extraordinary thing, besides the concert itself, is the fact that some 30 years later people are seeking me and others out for our recollections of that night. The concert aired on PBS a few weeks ago, and   the DVD will be released for sale in May. Watching the PBS special I was taken right back to that first night.

July 21st, 1983 started out a hot and sunny day. I had been in New York for several days (from LA) to help with the wardrobe prep. Miss Ross (as we all called her) had a lot riding on this concert and had been working toward it for months. On the day of the concert we got to the staging area early and had rehearsals with the dancers, musicians and all departments. The show finally started on time, but a very strong wind came up and Miss Ross had a hard time keeping her hair out of her eyes. At first it was only annoying. No big deal. Except..... in the distance to the north east we saw a very dark cloud approaching fast and knew that something BIG was about to happen.

Diana was onstage in her skimpy orange lace body suit and as she battled the wind I thought how dramatic it would be if I could get her to put on the orange chiffon cape. The quick change room was right under the stage by the exit stairs, so I grabbed the cape, climbed up the stairs and crouched at the edge of the stage. Finally I got her attention and she beckoned to me to bring the cape to her. It was a struggle to get it on as the wind was so fierce. But before long she started "working it" and became like some magical spirit facing down the almighty storm. The cape streamed out behind her and was captured by the cameras, both video and still, and the amazing images would appear on the front page of newspapers and magazines all over the world.

Then the rain came. We were all drenched! I mean, really drenched. I lost my sandals and was ankle deep in mud. Water ran down the stage and into the quick change room and into my surge strip where I had appliances plugged in! But, soaking wet or not, Miss Ross went on singing and interacting with her adoring fans. She kept the audience calm and kept singing, though absolutely drenched. Eventually I brought her a white designer blazer (Versace I think) that covered her a little better. Park officials, the mayor, the fire department, and the president of Paramount Pictures all were trying to get her to stop the concert out of concern for safety, and eventually, once Miss Ross felt the crowds were calm enough, she finally and reluctantly the stage.

She went into the warmth of her trailer, and eventually into the limo that whisked her away. The director  Steve Binder and video people emerged from the warm dark video truck into the cold rain and almost seemed surprised that it was actually wet outside! The musicians left in their vans, and one by one the crew could do no more and also left.

But the wardrobe crew, me plus about 3 others, as I remember, were still there, gathering up Miss Ross' things when suddenly, ALL THE LIGHTS WENT OUT! There we were in the pitch-black wet muddy Central Park! I told my crew to find black garbage bags and make themselves ponchos, take a sip of some brandy we found, and get their sewing scissors out which they were to hold in their hands as weapons. Thus we walked out of a dangerous Central Park in the pitch black. Eventually we made it to Central Park South, and then to the upscale Parker Meridian Hotel  on 56th st. They had been told to give anyone a room who needed one, and they never looked down their noses at our bizarrely attired group!

The next day, when I saw Diana's photo on the front page of the New York Times I was thrilled! I called her, and she asked me to drive out to her house in Connecticut and gather up some new costumes and gowns as the show would go on again!

And it did! Another lovely sunny day, but this time no storm. Everyone was elated at the return of the thousands and thousands of fans,  and the concert was brilliant. We all felt we had been a part of history. Who knew, after thirty years, that maybe we were.

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!

And don't forget to visit me at http://hollywoodmentors.co