Picture it: Hollywood, California, sometime in 1997. I'm a tourist on my first trip to the iconic Walk of Fame on Hollywood Boulevard. Me and my boyfriend take a detour into a little autograph and memorabilia store called STARWORLD. Although they have an impressive array of signed, framed photos on the walls, my eye is drawn to a little box on the floor marked “Clearance.” I crouch down and leaf through the glossy 8 by 10s in the box, seeing a bunch of has-beens, never was-es and forgotten child actors from the ’70s and ’80s. Near the bottom, however, I spy a diamond in the rough—an autograph from my favorite “dumb blonde” of Hollywood’s Golden Era, Joyce Compton. In the photo, she is wearing a chiffon dress with a spray of fake lilacs on the bodice, a lacy negligee partically obscured by sheer layers of gown fabric. Joyce’s curly handwriting matches her blonde hair, and it matched the images I recalled from old movies—cute and bubbly. Priced at seven dollars, it became my first ...
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