Although fairies are usually cool toward women, for some reason they seem irresistibly attracted to comediennes. Perhaps being a comedienne is unnatural for a woman, like playing the bass fiddle or pole-vaulting, which may be the reason why they have such an attraction for the limp-wristed set. There always seems something terribly sad about many comediennes, for all their talent, as they are almost inevitably surrounded by these demimales. I once mentioned on such famous comedienne to a friend of mine. "She is terribly amusing," the friend said. Then he added, wistfully: "Of course, she has no alternative."

Once Wilson Mizner, the noted wit, was having lunch at a New York hotel with Marshall Neilan, the director. At an adjoining table were several fairies, giggling as gaily as four suburban housewives having butterscotch sundaes at Schraffts. Annoyed by the girlish carrying-on, Mizner began directing audible disparaging remarks at the group. The giggling died away and the group began to direct some cold glares at Mizner and Neilan. Still Mizner continued to aim his loud barbs until violence seemed imminent. Neilan suddenly became philosophical. "Wouldn't it be strange," he mused, "if on Judgment Day it turned out they were right?" I feel quite sure it won't - but that's their problem. I just wish they would leave show business alone, and stop leaping about with their balloons on television.

We occasionally have fashion shows on our program so I've had a chance to observe at firsthand the havoc that limp-wristed designers and hair dressers and make-up men have wrought upon once beautiful girls. When they finish accentuating the hollow cheeks, the pallor and the blue circles under the eyes, the models look less made-up than embalmed. One night a group of them trooped out modeling bathing suits and they were so skinny and unfeminine I thought it was the mile relay team from the YMCA. Gradually I've become so accustomed to seeing these bony, boyish figures that I was pleasantly surprised one night when one model appeared displaying a full-blown figure with ample curves. Later I commented backstage on how rare it was now to see a model with curves. Our wardrobe lady chuckled cynically. "When she took off that bathing suit and dropped it on the floor," she said, "it bounced for five minutes."

Another lovely girl who managed to escape the ministrations of the fairy Svengalis is the 1961 Miss Universe, Marlene Schmidt. She is a tall, ravishing blonde with a figure like God intended woman to have, without alterations by Slenderella or some delicate designer. I asked her measurements and she told me they were 95-45-95! This was in centimeters, it turned out, but even measured in inches her endowments were opulent. The reason she still possessed her naturally lovely figure and rosy-cheeked, healthy face, I discovered, was that she was a recent refuge from East Germany and our fairy fashion fraternity hadn't gotten their clutches on her yet. Because of all this I've started my campaign to save our starving models by sending them CARE packages. For Christmas I plan to send my friends cards with notes saying that donations in their names have been made to Jinx Falkenburg.

I hope that all red-blooded men will rally to my crusade to have girls look like girls again. If we show our determination I'm sure that women will throw off the tyranny of fairy designers. They have nothing to lose but their falsies. Meantime, I must go now and give a blood transfusion to Suzy Parker.

- Jack Paar, 1961, My Saber Is Bent - Chapter 14 - Fairies and Communists.