"How Sandra Has Changed"



This article, written by Troy Donahue, appeared in Movieland & TV Time Magazine April, 1960
I have known Sandra for three years and I can truthfully say she isn't the girl she used to be.
In a way, this isn't surprising. Between the ages of 15 and 18 a girl probably changes more than she does through any years before or after. And some of the changes are obvious ones.
Sandra has become more sophisticated. She wears more grown-up clothes. She fills out a sweater more nicely than she used to--yet she's earned wolf whistles since I first met her. What is so delightful is her new reaction toward these signs of appreciation by members of the opposite sex.
Three years ago, when a boy whistled at her she would turn slightly red, and try hard not to show her embarrassment.
How differently she reacted not long ago when we went for a walk together, and passed two sailors who quite naturally showed their appreciation through good-natured whistles. Having done so myself, I couldn't get offended--yet I did feel a bit uneasy about its possible effect on Sandra. To my surprise----and I must say delight----she turned and winked at them. I've never seen two more awed faces than those of the sailors!
I can also feel the change in Sandra by the way she accepts compliments now compared to the way she used to.
We first met at the Universal-International make-up department when Bud Westmore introduced us to one another. "Someday," he said, pointing at Sandra, "this young girl will be your leading lady." And then he pointed at me and assured Sandra that someday I would be her leading man. Neither one of us could have had the faintest idea at the time that we were to co-star two years later in "A Summer Place."
I didn't get to know Sandra very well at the time, and while I considered a 15-year-old a mere child and certainly wouldn't have had any romantic intentions, I would have been blind not to notice how beautiful she was. And I told her so.
"You're kidding," she laughed, not taking me seriously for a moment although I'm sure she had been told the same thing a million times before. She simply couldn't bring herself to take flattery with any degree of seriousness.
I told her the same thing a few weeks ago, on our way home from our date. She turned to me with a very pleased, serious expression on her face. "Thank you for saying so, Troy," she said seriously. I could tell she was deeply touched. Hers was the reaction of a mature, grown-up young woman.
The change in Sandra is evident in so many ways.
Even a year ago when I took her out and asked her where she wanted to go, invariably she cried out "POP." P.O.P. are the initials for Pacific Ocean Park, an amusement place in Santa Monica. We'd take in all the rides, have hot dogs and candy, and invariably end up munching cotton candy.
How differently she reacts today. She enjoys good restaurants. She likes to be alone with me, whereas she used to prefer parties with a lot of people around us all the time, who would entertain her. She enjoys serious conversation.
Her new grown-up mannerisms are equally evident in the sense of humor she has developed. Nowadays I can say things I could not have told her before, if for no other reason than she wouldn't have understood them!
I can see how much more grown up she is even in the way she kisses or maybe I should say--particularly in the way she kisse.
The first time I kissed her goodnight, she was not sure of herself. And it showed. Nowadays I can tell that she enjoys it and that she is a great deal more experienced than the first time I hesitantly gave her a friendly peck on the cheek.
Don't get me wrong. Sandra and I are not a romantic item. We don't kiss like boy friend and girl friend. But neither do we kiss like a man kisses his best friend's wife when he comes over for dinner. I would say our relationship is somewhere in between.
Her new attitude toward marriage shows her maturity as well.
A year ago she never even considered it, seriously. Today she and I are pretty much in the same position. We think about it. Yet I can tell when Sandra is with me--or for that matter with any fellow--she looks at him as a potential husband, and evaluates him accordingly.
I'll never forget the evening we came back from a premiere. Usually she chatters a mile a minute, and I have a hard time getting a word in edgewise. But all of a sudden she became very quiet.
At first I thought she was tired, and said nothing. But then I couldn't help noticing how she was studying me out of the corner of her eye. It didn't take me long to realize what was going on in her mind. "If you and I were married," I laughed, "we'd both be miserable."
I haven't managed to shock her often. I certainly did this time.
"What do you mean, if you and I were married?" she cried out.
"Isn't this what you were thinking about?" I came back.
She hesitated, then burst out laughing. "Okay, so I was. But mind you, there was nothing personal about it."
"Nothing personal," I agreed.
"But what do you mean, we'd be miserable with one another?"
"Can you imagine two prima donnas like us spending the rest of our lives with one another?"
"I sure couldn't," she agreed.
But she really isn't a prima donna. In fact, I've never met a girl so pretty yet so unspoiled, by comparison.
Sandra's new self-assurance is evident as well in her relationship with her mother.
While Mary Douvan and Sandra appear to be more like sisters than mother and daughter, Mrs. Douvan has kept a pretty close eye on her daughter. She always knew where she was, and without saying so, I knew that she expected her to be home at a certain time. And I could tell that about midnight, Sandra was getting rather uneasy about staying out longer. And so we went home.
Today she doesn't worry about it so much, although I've never brought her home later than 1:30 in the morning.
I can see her new self-assurance even in regard, to her career. A year ago I doubt that she would have made any professional decision without consulting her agent or her mother. Today I think it is Sandca who has the final word.
As recently as last year, Sandca used to fall in and out of love like a chameleon changes color. And she didn't even have to meet the man to fall in love with him.
The first time she saw Cary Grant in the Universal-International commissary, she decided there was no one in the whole wide world quite like him. For the next week she compared everybody with Cary. And believe me, it wasn't easy to live up to such competition!
And how I used to kid her about it. One afternoon we went to Wil Wright's, for an ice-cream soda. While we were waiting for our orders, I suddenly nodded at the table behind her. "There's Cary Grant," I said casually.
Her eyes grew big and her mouth dropped open.
"WHERE? she whispered so loudly, it could have been heard a block away.
"Right behind you," I said indifferently. Her eyes grew bigger. "Where . . . WHERE . . . WHERE..." she repeated excitedly.
"I told you right behind you," I insisted. "Why don't you turn around?"
She wanted to, so badly, but she didn't dare.
"I'm afraid he's leaving now," I said as someone walked out through the door.
Finally she turned around and stared at the empty table. "You were kidding me, weren't you, Troy?" she demanded to know.
"Kidding you?" I cried out. "If you'd turned around you would have known I was telling the truth."
Of course I wasn't. In fact, I pulled this Cary Grant gimmick at least a dozen times in the next 10 days. And while she rationalized each time that I was telling a fib, she had such a crush on him that in her mind she wondered if maybe I might be telling the truth.
Sandra still falls in and out of love, but not as often as she used to, which I think is another sign of growing maturity.
Offhand I can think of only one disadvantage to the new Sandra. Like all girls who grow more conscious of their appearance, she takes more time to look her best or at least to look what she thinks is her best. As far as I'm concerned, she's perfectly beautiful without any make-up or lipstick whatsoever. And so I have to wait a little longer for her to get ready each time I call on her.
The last time I waited nearly a half hour before she showed up in the living room. But I didn't mind. First of all, she had a charming mother to keep me entertained. Secondly, when she came out of her bedroom, beautifully dressed, exuberant, and with the biggest smile on her face--how could I be annoyed?
Undoubtedly Sandra has changed a great deal since I first met her three years ago. Undoubtedly she will change a great more in the years to come. All I can say is that if she changes in the same wonderful manner she has in the past--I can hardly wait to see how she turns out!

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