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Women I've Undressed: A Memoir
Found in a pillowcase, the fabulous long-lost memoirs of a legendary Hollywood designer - and a genuine Australian original.
Orry-Kelly created magic on screen, from Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon to Some Like It Hot.
He won three Oscars for costume design. He dressed all the biggest stars, from Bette Davis to Marilyn Monroe.
He was an Australian. Yet few know who Orry-Kelly really was - until now.
Discovered in a pillowcase, Orry-Kelly's long-lost memoirs reveal a wildly talented and cheeky rascal who lived a big life, on and off the set.
From his childhood in Kiama to revelling in Sydney's underworld nightlife as a na�ve young artist and chasing his dreams of acting in New York, his early life is a wild and exciting ride.
Sharing digs in New York with another aspiring actor, Cary Grant, and partying hard in between auditions, he ekes out a living painting murals for speakeasies before graduating to designing stage sets and costumes.
When The Kid from Kiama finally arrives in Hollywood, it's clear his adventures have only just begun.
Fearless, funny and outspoken, Orry-Kelly lived life to the full.
In Women I've Undressed, he shares a wickedly delicious slice of it.
Orry-Kelly created magic on screen, from Casablanca and The Maltese Falcon to Some Like It Hot.
He won three Oscars for costume design. He dressed all the biggest stars, from Bette Davis to Marilyn Monroe.
He was an Australian. Yet few know who Orry-Kelly really was - until now.
Discovered in a pillowcase, Orry-Kelly's long-lost memoirs reveal a wildly talented and cheeky rascal who lived a big life, on and off the set.
From his childhood in Kiama to revelling in Sydney's underworld nightlife as a na�ve young artist and chasing his dreams of acting in New York, his early life is a wild and exciting ride.
Sharing digs in New York with another aspiring actor, Cary Grant, and partying hard in between auditions, he ekes out a living painting murals for speakeasies before graduating to designing stage sets and costumes.
When The Kid from Kiama finally arrives in Hollywood, it's clear his adventures have only just begun.
Fearless, funny and outspoken, Orry-Kelly lived life to the full.
In Women I've Undressed, he shares a wickedly delicious slice of it.
Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2015
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About the author
Orry-Kelly
1 book1 followerBorn Orry George Kelly, Orry-Kelly originally left his native Australia for New York to become an actor. Instead, he became one of Hollywood's most noted costume designers. Orry-Kelly worked at Warner Brothers from 1932 until 1944. Thereafter, he designed for films from RKO, 20th Century Fox, Universal, and MGM. In all, he designed costumes on more than 300 films.
Orry-Kelly won three Oscars for Best Costume Design (An American in Paris, Cole Porter's Les Girls, Some Like It Hot). He was nominated for an Oscar for Gypsy, but didn't win.
Other notable films on which Orry-Kelly worked were Casablanca, 42nd Street, The Maltese Falcon, Oklahoma!, Harvey, Arsenic and Old Lace, The Man Who Came to Dinner, Sweet Bird of Youth, All This and Heaven Too, Dark Victory, The Corn Is Green, Angels with Dirty Faces, Mother Wore Tights, and Auntie Mame.
Orry-Kelly won three Oscars for Best Costume Design (An American in Paris, Cole Porter's Les Girls, Some Like It Hot). He was nominated for an Oscar for Gypsy, but didn't win.
Other notable films on which Orry-Kelly worked were Casablanca, 42nd Street, The Maltese Falcon, Oklahoma!, Harvey, Arsenic and Old Lace, The Man Who Came to Dinner, Sweet Bird of Youth, All This and Heaven Too, Dark Victory, The Corn Is Green, Angels with Dirty Faces, Mother Wore Tights, and Auntie Mame.
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Displaying 1 - 21 of 21 reviews
June 12, 2016
I read Women I’ve Undressed: A Memoir by Orry-Kelly for the Out of the Past Classic Film Blog - 2016 Summer Reading Classic Film Book Challenge. I’ve long been a fan of the Hollywood Studio System era. Everything from the stars, publicity photography, films, studio politics and fashion styles, and especially the costumes and costume designers. You can pick out which studio made a film by its production value, style, stars, and costume design. There were many costume designers, but the big five were Adrian, Travis Banton, Bernard Newman, Edith Head, and Orry-Kelly. This memoir is Orry’s attempt at an autobiography.
2015 was a big year for the somewhat forgotten Australian Orry-Kelly. The Australian Centre of Moving Image launched very successful Orry-Kelly exhibit titled “Dressing Hollywood”, Australian director Gillian Armstrong released an Orry-Kelly documentary titled Women He’s Undressed, and Orry-Kelly’s long lost memoir was published, after it was found wrapped in a pillowcase in a cupboard of one of his relatives. Unfortunately, I didn’t see the exhibit and was disappointed in the documentary, and now after reading it, I can say I’m also disappointed in the book.
Unlike the documentary, the book is largely still in draft form, which I’m not knocking in the slightest, but it would have benefitted greatly from some tightening up by a publisher, which it would have been if it had been published in his lifetime. Women I’ve Undressed starts strong with his childhood in Kiama, New South Wales, and his life in the theatre in Sydney before he moved to New York City in 1922. His time in New York, in the theatre and with fellow actor Cary Grant are well remembered and written. Once Orry-Kelly moves to Hollywood and becomes the chief costume designer at Warner Bros. the memoir becomes a mishmash of rambling gossip anecdotes. He loses his direction and the text falls into an unsettling and disjointed rhythm. At times, I had no idea who or what he was talking about, and towards the end I gave up trying to figure it out. Orry-Kelly tries to come back to centre at the very end with some reflections that are nice and well laid out, but it doesn’t help overall.
The most disappointing thing about the book is that he doesn’t talk about any of his work! All he gives Casablanca is a five line paragraph. Not once does he talk about the motivations for his designs, the designs themselves, any collaboration or workflow of his wardrobe department within the greater context of the studio. The book also suffers from an unfortunate design by the publishers. No glossy pages or photographs, but instead we get garish multi-coloured framed pages on matte paper that are much better suited for books targeted at toddlers. If you love Hollywood gossip coupled with a slice of detective work then this one’s for you.
2015 was a big year for the somewhat forgotten Australian Orry-Kelly. The Australian Centre of Moving Image launched very successful Orry-Kelly exhibit titled “Dressing Hollywood”, Australian director Gillian Armstrong released an Orry-Kelly documentary titled Women He’s Undressed, and Orry-Kelly’s long lost memoir was published, after it was found wrapped in a pillowcase in a cupboard of one of his relatives. Unfortunately, I didn’t see the exhibit and was disappointed in the documentary, and now after reading it, I can say I’m also disappointed in the book.
Unlike the documentary, the book is largely still in draft form, which I’m not knocking in the slightest, but it would have benefitted greatly from some tightening up by a publisher, which it would have been if it had been published in his lifetime. Women I’ve Undressed starts strong with his childhood in Kiama, New South Wales, and his life in the theatre in Sydney before he moved to New York City in 1922. His time in New York, in the theatre and with fellow actor Cary Grant are well remembered and written. Once Orry-Kelly moves to Hollywood and becomes the chief costume designer at Warner Bros. the memoir becomes a mishmash of rambling gossip anecdotes. He loses his direction and the text falls into an unsettling and disjointed rhythm. At times, I had no idea who or what he was talking about, and towards the end I gave up trying to figure it out. Orry-Kelly tries to come back to centre at the very end with some reflections that are nice and well laid out, but it doesn’t help overall.
The most disappointing thing about the book is that he doesn’t talk about any of his work! All he gives Casablanca is a five line paragraph. Not once does he talk about the motivations for his designs, the designs themselves, any collaboration or workflow of his wardrobe department within the greater context of the studio. The book also suffers from an unfortunate design by the publishers. No glossy pages or photographs, but instead we get garish multi-coloured framed pages on matte paper that are much better suited for books targeted at toddlers. If you love Hollywood gossip coupled with a slice of detective work then this one’s for you.
December 14, 2015
This is a large heavy book which I initially had me excited as I have a huge interest in costumes and dress making.
This is not that kind of book. It is a book of gossip.
It starts with Sydney and some interesting stories of time back then. It paints a picture of a Sydney I am not familiar with (being Australian) and I found it very interesting.
Then we move to the U.S. Here I expected more detail about actual design and how a gown is put together and such. But it is more gossip.
Some insight into Cary Grant which I did find interesting. And that's it really.
Mr Kelly unleashes all the pent up gossip he held onto for years in a snarky tome. In fact the last quarter of the book I skimmed over as I had had enough.
There are quite a few pictures of gorgeous stars in dresses but they are not glossy pictures. It would have been nice for Orry to describe his talent and the processes he used and how he actually decided on costumes and the methods he used for each star etc.
but never mind. I am proud he was an Australian and I am flying to Melbourne see the collection of gowns he designed that are currently touring the globe.
This is not that kind of book. It is a book of gossip.
It starts with Sydney and some interesting stories of time back then. It paints a picture of a Sydney I am not familiar with (being Australian) and I found it very interesting.
Then we move to the U.S. Here I expected more detail about actual design and how a gown is put together and such. But it is more gossip.
Some insight into Cary Grant which I did find interesting. And that's it really.
Mr Kelly unleashes all the pent up gossip he held onto for years in a snarky tome. In fact the last quarter of the book I skimmed over as I had had enough.
There are quite a few pictures of gorgeous stars in dresses but they are not glossy pictures. It would have been nice for Orry to describe his talent and the processes he used and how he actually decided on costumes and the methods he used for each star etc.
but never mind. I am proud he was an Australian and I am flying to Melbourne see the collection of gowns he designed that are currently touring the globe.
December 22, 2019
There are some great gems in this book (he was fond of Bette Davis, Roz Russell, Kay Frances and had a complicated relationship with Cary Grant which threads through the book). I had expected more details on the fashions and costuming processes than was there. Still, worth reading if you're interested in Old Hollywood.
December 31, 2025
Orry-Kelly was synonymous, in old Hollywood, with Oscar winning costumes and career-long close working affiliations with icons like Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, Olivia de Havilland, Barbara Stanwyck, Ava Gardner, Kay Francis, Dolores del Río, Ann Sheridan and Merle Oberon.
A plucky gay kid from the New South Wales township of Kiama, he was born in 1897 and sent to Sydney at seventeen to study banking. Defying his parents' plan for a respectable career, he instead became a small time stage actor.
Using the great city Down Under as a springboard to the wider world, he landed in New York earning a crust however he could: painting scenery, wheeling and dealing, blocking handmade ties, getting nowhere on stage but sharing crumby rooms and friendships with other struggling performers, some to become legends, others fading into obscurity.
Here he established friendships with upcoming or newly established Broadway headliners like Fanny Brice, George Burns and Mae West. He also took under his wing the nay too talented but fast-learning young Englishman Archie Leach, later carved into legend as heart throb Cary Grant.
Having almost inadvertently landed on his feet as a costumier, with zero training or qualifications, he grabbed an offer in Hollywood in 1932 and stayed, we assume abandoning his own ambition of performing, knowing a good thing when he was onto it.
He was Warner Bros' chief costume designer until 1944, later designing for Universal, RKO, 20th Century Fox, and MGM. He also spent a stint in the US Army Air Corps in WWII before being discharged with alcohol issues.
Kelly's stylistic instinct defied the lure of glitter and sequins we associate with Hollywood's golden age, instead going firmly with understated elegance, gaining him the unswerving loyalty of great leading ladies who knew a good thing when they wore it on screen.
With "networking" a phrase long yet to be coined, Kelly's "who-you-know" personal survival technique resulted in close lifelong bonds with the likes of Ethel Barrymore and their ilk. We sense him sniffing out the influential and using a blend of sycophancy and crafty haggling to forge vital allegiances.
His movies included classics like 42nd Street, The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca, Arsenic and Old Lace, Harvey, Oklahoma!, Auntie Mame, and Some Like It Hot.
By the late 1950s and early 1960s, with several hundred movies under his belt, power dynamics had reversed and he became an authority to be reckoned with, famously dressing down Marilyn Monroe after one of her on-set flare ups.
A chronic alcoholic, he died of liver cancer in 1964, aged 65, and was interred in the Hollywood Hills. His pallbearers included Cary Grant, Tony Curtis, Billy Wilder and George Cukor and his eulogy was read by Jack L. Warner
His unpublished memoir was found by a relative, in a pillowslip, where it had stayed until half a century after his death, when Gillian Armstrong's TV documentary on him, Women He's Undressed, triggered its erstwhile unlikely unveiling.
Some argue the piece had never been published because of his open sexuality being too taboo at the time of its penning, with others insisting his priceless anecdotes would have insulted too many esteemed Hollywood insiders.
I sense that a more accurate explanation is its unfinished condition. Yes, he had reached the end of his tale in this raw draught he left us, but the work is far from crafted to the finished state such a perfectionist would have required. He indeed opens with a thinly veiled disclaimer along the lines of 'people say I talk in circles', admitting, towards the end, of also having hired a ghost writer to rework it, but having thrown away that product, which he believed entirely erased his personality.
Whatever the reason, I find it inconceivable he would have wanted this to be the draft we all read, hence it being hidden away for so long. A character as determined as he would have seen it published in his lifetime had he thought it ready for print. Whilst his flighty personality remains indelibly intact here, this glowing authenticity is the price of his narrative being, for the most part, an impenetrable and irritating rant, skipping back and forth like the proverbial twittering budgerigar. This tipsy dinner-party type rambling, with its apparent petty score-settling, I despaired of.
Though it took every ounce of patience not to throw the hefty item across the room, I persevered, purely to devour each last golden anecdote. For although an award-winning designer does not a great writer make, here is a fidgety but irresistible raconteur whose priceless content far outweighs his tacky, exasperating style.
The superb photographic content is sadly misplaced, inset among a brash and flippant page design I despised, with its nauseatingly coloured chapter graphics quite at odds with the understated style of Kelly's famous costumes (though perfectly as one with his brassy, undisciplined dialogue). The cumbersome dimensions of the 432 page, 7.7 x 1.7 x 9.4 inch hardback is like trying to hold up an oversized stone house brick to the bedside lamp. I recommend the Kindle or audio editions for all but professional weightlifters.
Not a person I could bear to sit long with, Kelly's stories nevertheless deserve such preservation, despite their raffish form. I only wish more editing had been utilised for such an important book, to neaten things up and inject readability; but then considering it was published in 2015, so many decades after the narrator's demise, one must appreciate the impossibility of consultation with him over such matters.
For Australians interested in their national history there are fascinating and extensive passages on early twentieth century Sydney, including the brothels and backstreets of Darlinghurst.
Imperative reading for those drawn to behind-the-scenes Hollywood, here is a time capsule of inestimable value for any showbiz historian. Just conjure up every last ounce of patience for the precariously skittish and roundabout manner of storytelling.
Highly recommended if you live well with the longwinded chaos of the otherwise supremely talented.
A plucky gay kid from the New South Wales township of Kiama, he was born in 1897 and sent to Sydney at seventeen to study banking. Defying his parents' plan for a respectable career, he instead became a small time stage actor.
Using the great city Down Under as a springboard to the wider world, he landed in New York earning a crust however he could: painting scenery, wheeling and dealing, blocking handmade ties, getting nowhere on stage but sharing crumby rooms and friendships with other struggling performers, some to become legends, others fading into obscurity.
Here he established friendships with upcoming or newly established Broadway headliners like Fanny Brice, George Burns and Mae West. He also took under his wing the nay too talented but fast-learning young Englishman Archie Leach, later carved into legend as heart throb Cary Grant.
Having almost inadvertently landed on his feet as a costumier, with zero training or qualifications, he grabbed an offer in Hollywood in 1932 and stayed, we assume abandoning his own ambition of performing, knowing a good thing when he was onto it.
He was Warner Bros' chief costume designer until 1944, later designing for Universal, RKO, 20th Century Fox, and MGM. He also spent a stint in the US Army Air Corps in WWII before being discharged with alcohol issues.
Kelly's stylistic instinct defied the lure of glitter and sequins we associate with Hollywood's golden age, instead going firmly with understated elegance, gaining him the unswerving loyalty of great leading ladies who knew a good thing when they wore it on screen.
With "networking" a phrase long yet to be coined, Kelly's "who-you-know" personal survival technique resulted in close lifelong bonds with the likes of Ethel Barrymore and their ilk. We sense him sniffing out the influential and using a blend of sycophancy and crafty haggling to forge vital allegiances.
His movies included classics like 42nd Street, The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca, Arsenic and Old Lace, Harvey, Oklahoma!, Auntie Mame, and Some Like It Hot.
By the late 1950s and early 1960s, with several hundred movies under his belt, power dynamics had reversed and he became an authority to be reckoned with, famously dressing down Marilyn Monroe after one of her on-set flare ups.
A chronic alcoholic, he died of liver cancer in 1964, aged 65, and was interred in the Hollywood Hills. His pallbearers included Cary Grant, Tony Curtis, Billy Wilder and George Cukor and his eulogy was read by Jack L. Warner
His unpublished memoir was found by a relative, in a pillowslip, where it had stayed until half a century after his death, when Gillian Armstrong's TV documentary on him, Women He's Undressed, triggered its erstwhile unlikely unveiling.
Some argue the piece had never been published because of his open sexuality being too taboo at the time of its penning, with others insisting his priceless anecdotes would have insulted too many esteemed Hollywood insiders.
I sense that a more accurate explanation is its unfinished condition. Yes, he had reached the end of his tale in this raw draught he left us, but the work is far from crafted to the finished state such a perfectionist would have required. He indeed opens with a thinly veiled disclaimer along the lines of 'people say I talk in circles', admitting, towards the end, of also having hired a ghost writer to rework it, but having thrown away that product, which he believed entirely erased his personality.
Whatever the reason, I find it inconceivable he would have wanted this to be the draft we all read, hence it being hidden away for so long. A character as determined as he would have seen it published in his lifetime had he thought it ready for print. Whilst his flighty personality remains indelibly intact here, this glowing authenticity is the price of his narrative being, for the most part, an impenetrable and irritating rant, skipping back and forth like the proverbial twittering budgerigar. This tipsy dinner-party type rambling, with its apparent petty score-settling, I despaired of.
Though it took every ounce of patience not to throw the hefty item across the room, I persevered, purely to devour each last golden anecdote. For although an award-winning designer does not a great writer make, here is a fidgety but irresistible raconteur whose priceless content far outweighs his tacky, exasperating style.
The superb photographic content is sadly misplaced, inset among a brash and flippant page design I despised, with its nauseatingly coloured chapter graphics quite at odds with the understated style of Kelly's famous costumes (though perfectly as one with his brassy, undisciplined dialogue). The cumbersome dimensions of the 432 page, 7.7 x 1.7 x 9.4 inch hardback is like trying to hold up an oversized stone house brick to the bedside lamp. I recommend the Kindle or audio editions for all but professional weightlifters.
Not a person I could bear to sit long with, Kelly's stories nevertheless deserve such preservation, despite their raffish form. I only wish more editing had been utilised for such an important book, to neaten things up and inject readability; but then considering it was published in 2015, so many decades after the narrator's demise, one must appreciate the impossibility of consultation with him over such matters.
For Australians interested in their national history there are fascinating and extensive passages on early twentieth century Sydney, including the brothels and backstreets of Darlinghurst.
Imperative reading for those drawn to behind-the-scenes Hollywood, here is a time capsule of inestimable value for any showbiz historian. Just conjure up every last ounce of patience for the precariously skittish and roundabout manner of storytelling.
Highly recommended if you live well with the longwinded chaos of the otherwise supremely talented.
June 24, 2021
Tantalising, garrulous, fascinating.
April 21, 2017
My interest in this book came from my interest in Hollywood. Add to that the fact Orry-Kelly was born in the New South Wales bush and I knew this book was going to be interesting. There aren't many stories of us Australians making it in the Golden age of Hollywood.
The book definitely delivers on the Hollywood insider front. There's a name dropped every second paragraph, and Kelly talks at length about famous friends such as Cole Porter, Fanny Brice, and Bette Davis. Cary Grant or Archie Roach as he was known to Kelly when they were "friends" in New York in their younger years also features heavily.
Kelly's Hollywood years are fascinating, but while it's interesting to hear from someone who worked in one of the movie industries less discussed profession, the fact still remains that there are a lot of Hollywood memoirs out there. Kelly's earlier years working in and around the New York vaudeville scene, and his even earlier years living and working with Sydney's low-life are far more interesting in comparison.
Kelly brings up his supposed lack of intelligence, and poor writing skills a few times throughout the book, but he sells himself short. He tells a great story and comes across very knowledgeable in regards to both high culture and pop culture. For me the books main flaw was that it sometimes lacked direction, and jumped around a bit too much towards the end. In saying that however this memoir was discovered after his death and I can understand an editor not wanting to tamper with it too much.
The book definitely delivers on the Hollywood insider front. There's a name dropped every second paragraph, and Kelly talks at length about famous friends such as Cole Porter, Fanny Brice, and Bette Davis. Cary Grant or Archie Roach as he was known to Kelly when they were "friends" in New York in their younger years also features heavily.
Kelly's Hollywood years are fascinating, but while it's interesting to hear from someone who worked in one of the movie industries less discussed profession, the fact still remains that there are a lot of Hollywood memoirs out there. Kelly's earlier years working in and around the New York vaudeville scene, and his even earlier years living and working with Sydney's low-life are far more interesting in comparison.
Kelly brings up his supposed lack of intelligence, and poor writing skills a few times throughout the book, but he sells himself short. He tells a great story and comes across very knowledgeable in regards to both high culture and pop culture. For me the books main flaw was that it sometimes lacked direction, and jumped around a bit too much towards the end. In saying that however this memoir was discovered after his death and I can understand an editor not wanting to tamper with it too much.
July 26, 2020
Beautiful pictures, a beautiful book in and of itself as an aesthetic item to have on your shelves, but a little disappointing all in all in terms of content.
To describe this somewhat bizarre publication succinctly, it reads like a collation of years of diaries, with all the associated gossip, irrelevance and inconsequence that comes in our personal diaries.
Since it was published posthumously, I guess (presume?) they wanted to be respectful of his draft, but it really did need editing. Orry-Kelly was a fantastic designer, but in no way was writing his strong suit.
It was also rather bitchy, which for a tome that big got rather boring after a while.
While there were fantastic pictures and photos, I had expected more about the actual design process in the films - what inspired him to pick such-and-such fabric or design with such-and-such hemline for some of his proudest and career-advancing pieces. There’s not really any of that at all, so don’t make the mistake I did and go into it thinking that there would be.
Not really a worthwhile read, but is lovely to flick over the beautiful photos of Bette Davis, Ingrid Bergman, Ethel Barrymore et al. That’s really its only saving grace.
To describe this somewhat bizarre publication succinctly, it reads like a collation of years of diaries, with all the associated gossip, irrelevance and inconsequence that comes in our personal diaries.
Since it was published posthumously, I guess (presume?) they wanted to be respectful of his draft, but it really did need editing. Orry-Kelly was a fantastic designer, but in no way was writing his strong suit.
It was also rather bitchy, which for a tome that big got rather boring after a while.
While there were fantastic pictures and photos, I had expected more about the actual design process in the films - what inspired him to pick such-and-such fabric or design with such-and-such hemline for some of his proudest and career-advancing pieces. There’s not really any of that at all, so don’t make the mistake I did and go into it thinking that there would be.
Not really a worthwhile read, but is lovely to flick over the beautiful photos of Bette Davis, Ingrid Bergman, Ethel Barrymore et al. That’s really its only saving grace.
August 11, 2016
i love this era of Hollywood so was looking forward to hearing of the life of this basically forgotten Australian. I found the most interesting of this long lost biography were his early days in Sydney. After that it was all over the place, needed a much firmer editor I think. Possible more context was required. would have been a much better book if Orry-Kelly diary entries were only part of a larger story. A bit disappointed in the end.
November 3, 2015
A great insight in the world of Hollywood in the 30-40s, the writer didn't document much about himself, it was all about who he was meeting and the parties he went to. A very discreet book.
February 15, 2021
What a mess of a book. It's not even a proper book, it's just a collection of pointless ramblings. Orry Kelly may have been a charming man, but that charm did not translate into print for me. There is not one bit of consistency, not even from paragraph to paragraph, let alone from chapter to chapter. Kelly jumps back and front in time, relating random incidents or impressions he had of this or that. I'm all for the "train of thoughts" style of writing, but this is just bad. We never get anything resembling a narrative. I finished this book with the same amount of knowledge of Orry Kelly as I did when I started to read it.
Also-I understand that being a designer means having a different relationship with women's bodies than most men, but the way he casually talked about women's breasts-whether they were saggy or not- is still unsettling and not to mention irrelevant. But this whole book is full or irrelevant observations about random Old Hollywood people so I guess that fits the theme.
Reading this book felt like I got trapped into a corner by the intoxicated old creepy man at the party and he just rambled on and on about random stuff and I just sat there, nodding and pretending to listen because I was too polite to interrupt him.
The only reason to buy this book is because it looks pretty and has many sketches and pictures of fabulous costumes.
Also-I understand that being a designer means having a different relationship with women's bodies than most men, but the way he casually talked about women's breasts-whether they were saggy or not- is still unsettling and not to mention irrelevant. But this whole book is full or irrelevant observations about random Old Hollywood people so I guess that fits the theme.
Reading this book felt like I got trapped into a corner by the intoxicated old creepy man at the party and he just rambled on and on about random stuff and I just sat there, nodding and pretending to listen because I was too polite to interrupt him.
The only reason to buy this book is because it looks pretty and has many sketches and pictures of fabulous costumes.
March 13, 2022
This is a gorgeous looking book, full of fabulous pictures of Hollywood stars in beautiful gowns. Unfortunately the writing doesn’t match the visuals as Orry Kelly’s sprawling, undisciplined text is dull, facetious and tepid.
It’s roughly autobiographical, but there’s very little about his actual work in costume design - the pictures do the talking in this respect. Instead he’s more interested in gossiping about all the famous folks he knew, without divulging anything about his own private life. Reading between the lines, he obviously had a drink problem, which explains the thinning out of his film credits after the 1940s. But he’s never honest enough to talk frankly about himself, his problems, his romantic relationships, but everyone else is fair game. His bitchy sniping about Cary Grant throughout the book says more about Kelly than it does about Grant. And the constant name-dropping of film stars and celebrities gets very tedious.
Ethel Barrymore did him, and us, no favours when she advised him against seeking help from a ghost writer to pull these memoirs into shape. I gave it 3 stars for the gorgeous photos and illustrations, but zero for the writing.
It’s roughly autobiographical, but there’s very little about his actual work in costume design - the pictures do the talking in this respect. Instead he’s more interested in gossiping about all the famous folks he knew, without divulging anything about his own private life. Reading between the lines, he obviously had a drink problem, which explains the thinning out of his film credits after the 1940s. But he’s never honest enough to talk frankly about himself, his problems, his romantic relationships, but everyone else is fair game. His bitchy sniping about Cary Grant throughout the book says more about Kelly than it does about Grant. And the constant name-dropping of film stars and celebrities gets very tedious.
Ethel Barrymore did him, and us, no favours when she advised him against seeking help from a ghost writer to pull these memoirs into shape. I gave it 3 stars for the gorgeous photos and illustrations, but zero for the writing.
July 7, 2022
A great incite into Sydney followed by New York in the roaring 20s. The 20s colloquialisms are a bit hard to follow as are the famous names of the time he drops with great abandon. Some of his comments are very scathing and witty, at least I think they are as they too are full of very dated references. This is not criticism as such, it’s just a sign of the times, how some things travel well and others not so much. His gowns were gorgeous, his gossip juicy. I understand why he did not discuss his sexuality as it just wasn’t done at the time, which is sad. He lived a full life that’s for sure.
June 21, 2018
What an amazing life this man had! This was a great read from start to finish. I admit I started it for the Hollywood insight but I was quickly entranced by his unique voice and the stories of his life in Sydney and New York were equally fascinating.
August 21, 2018
Orry Kelly is a goddamn treasure und sein Weg aus dem australischen Hinterland nach Hollywood, mitten ins verruchte goldene Zeitalter des Films und schließlich zum ins Vertrauen gezogene Kostümbildner ist ein Traum für alle, die altes Hollywood, Glamour, Fashion und guten Gossip mögen.
September 16, 2020
This is a beautifully presented book. The dust jacket alone entices you to pick it up. A real treasure-trove of old Hollywood with background stories and interesting and elegant photos. A must-have for lovers of Hollywood gossip, trivia and design.
January 6, 2022
Captivating
November 8, 2020
Not as engaging as I hoped.
I was inspired by the movie of the same name to search for the book. However, once found, I only managed about a quarter of it, before losing interest. Mainly due to the language, which is from a time even before the 40s/50s, I found it dated and hard to follow sometimes.
This is one rare time when, for me, the movie was better than the book.
I was inspired by the movie of the same name to search for the book. However, once found, I only managed about a quarter of it, before losing interest. Mainly due to the language, which is from a time even before the 40s/50s, I found it dated and hard to follow sometimes.
This is one rare time when, for me, the movie was better than the book.
September 27, 2024
They made this into a documentary. Watch the documentary. Don't waste your time on this book.
This book desperately needed the hand of a very strict editor to both radically reorganise it and also to trim out every time Kelly wanders off on a tangent that becomes a vague history lesson or events that he was absolutely not present for and have no relevance to his actual life.
Also, you get this feeling with a lot of documentaries, but it feels egregious in this one... when he just recite a laundry list of names that mean absolutely nothing to the reader and that have nothing to do with what he was talking about two sentences before... but also the likelihood that Person X said this thing to him at a certain time and place that just happened to be Very Important Later. It feels like large stretches of this are definitely exaggerated bordering on pathological lying.
And, not surprisingly, given that he died in the 60's, but he straight-washes his own life, removing the reasons behind events that are clearly because him and the man in question were fucking.
I skimmed through more than a few chunks of this book just because it was both boring and badly written.
Honestly, just watch the documentary.
This book desperately needed the hand of a very strict editor to both radically reorganise it and also to trim out every time Kelly wanders off on a tangent that becomes a vague history lesson or events that he was absolutely not present for and have no relevance to his actual life.
Also, you get this feeling with a lot of documentaries, but it feels egregious in this one... when he just recite a laundry list of names that mean absolutely nothing to the reader and that have nothing to do with what he was talking about two sentences before... but also the likelihood that Person X said this thing to him at a certain time and place that just happened to be Very Important Later. It feels like large stretches of this are definitely exaggerated bordering on pathological lying.
And, not surprisingly, given that he died in the 60's, but he straight-washes his own life, removing the reasons behind events that are clearly because him and the man in question were fucking.
I skimmed through more than a few chunks of this book just because it was both boring and badly written.
Honestly, just watch the documentary.
Want to read
December 5, 2015Long-lost memoirs of a major film costume designer & former lover of a pre-fame Cary Grant. Yes, please, and thank you! From a review in The Australian: "There is much to enjoy in his Hollywood tales, but the book’s most deeply felt and vividly recalled sections relate to the streets of east Sydney and New York during and after the World War I, when the young Orry-Kelly was living by his wits, befriending prostitutes, gamblers and bootleggers (he briefly ran a speakeasy) while trying to find his way as an artist."
April 25, 2017
I found this a really interesting book but it could have done with some tighter editing as it was very disjointed in parts. I listened to the audiobook but then went & bought a hard copy so I could see the pictures!
December 17, 2015
Beautiful illustrations and pictures but the text left a bit to be desired.
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