Part Two - “Hey kids, let's put on a show in Palm Springs!”

Over months of constant communication, Andrew and I became friendly, and I was invited to join the team to realize the goal of a traveling exhibition of Travilla’s film and fashion career. The Palm Springs exhibit opened the first week of January 2009 and I arrived in the second week intending to sort through, organize, and add to the exhibit where possible. Thirty minutes after my plane landed, I was shown around the exhibit was set up in a former department store in the now vacant Desert Fashion Plaza.  On a shoestring budget within a week, Silva and Hansford, assisted by a crew of volunteers, transformed the cavernous space into a visual delight of art and couture.

A large version of Travilla's signature painted by Dimakis greeted visitors at the entrance. On a nearby wall, he displayed his paintings over a few comfortable chairs, and nearby was a television that played films featuring Travilla’s designs.

A frieze of costume sketches lined the perimeter walls above smaller exhibits devoted to Valley of the Dolls, Dallas & Knots Landing, Evita, Joanne Woodward, and fashions influenced by his African travels. Two opposing walls displayed glamourous gowns and unknown film costumes. A third was covered with photographs of Travilla’s wife, actress Dona Drake, and others from his early career and travels. A vertical case held his two Emmys, his Oscar, and various other awards and commendations. 

Single mannequins scattered about the room displayed gowns worn by Whitney Houston, Dionne Warwick, and others. But the star of the show was Marilyn. Headless mannequins stood on five-foot square cubes to protect the garments from grubby hands (and close inspection.) Added to the group was a white version of the “Diamonds” gown worn by Monroe to several public events. I'd helped by traveling companion try on that dress during our 2007 visit, so I was familiar with it. Andrew had moved the tire-smudged and salmon-ruffled dresses and sketches onto the floor behind ropes. 

In the backroom is what I was here to work on. Hundreds of sketches haphazardly filled a dozen large plastic tubs—a few held photographs and scrapbooks. Far less than I figured would result from such a long career. A windowless room upstairs held two overflowing metal clothing racks surrounded by boxes, large plastic tubs, and black garbage bags filled with tangled clumps of gowns, dresses, and jackets. The lack of care for what remained of the Estate befuddled me.

Arriving early each morning, I organized the sketches into film and fashion by decades; Andrew concentrated on the clothes, untangling and steaming them into displayable condition while working the door for the few visitors that wandered in. We’d stay until it got dark, and Greg came to take us back to his house for the night.

I was surprised at the poor attendance, considering the promotion in the local newspapers and magazines, including the exclusive monthly magazine Palm Springs Life. One night, Silva, Hansford, and I visited a local radio station to be interviewed about the exhibit and veered off-topic to how Marilyn died. While entertaining, it resulted in a poor response. Over the five days I was there, perhaps forty people showed up. With an admission of ten dollars, not much was being made.

With it just the second week, word might still need to spread. But I could see several reasons the California response was lukewarm versus England. It was the only open location in a soon-to-be-demolished mall with no exterior indication of what was inside but for a small, portable sign and a large, hulking, black limousine, “supposedly” used by Monroe, parked on the sidewalk. I heard an oft-repeated comment: "I didn’t know this was here.” Plus, on-street parking on the main drag in downtown Palm Springs was difficult. 

The exhibit's issues included a lack of proper signage, poor flow, and little cohesion with the layout and displays, making it look like an abandoned department store. I offered a few suggestions from my experience in events and venue decoration, but I mainly focused on organization.

I accomplished a lot in the five days and returned home with a large stack of photographs to research and digitize. The next three months went quickly as I immersed myself in all things Travilla. I returned in April when the exhibit ended to help disassemble the collection for temporary storage. 

The tour website announced plans for a show in Atlanta on May 31, where Travilla and Sarris would be given an award. Tickets included a private tour with Andrew sharing “unheard stories and anecdotes relating to Marilyn Monroe” along with a fashion show. Unfortunately, it didn't happen, but Andrew pressed forward with plans for the touring exhibition.

We were super stoked as Joshua Greene, son of photographer Milton Greene, who'd known and partnered with Monroe on two of her films, was brought aboard to help with merchandising through his company. Greene spent a weekend photographing many of the film sketches to take to his Oregon studio to work with. Among other projects, a line of prints and stationary from non-Marilyn film and fashion sketches were discussed. At the same time, inquiries had been made to tour the collection in a series of casinos in the Dakotas. Sarris' wish was going to come true.