Clearly a joke that left them in the aisles in 1922, but hers was not a name I was familiar with. My wife, given the name without context, thought she might have been be one of Yves St Laurent’s muses. Good guess, but wrong.
She was a dancer and and chanteuse and one of the most notorious stage presences of her day. The Madonna of the aughts and teens, making up for modest innate talent with colossal work ethic and a flair for publicity. A multi-millionaire at the time of her death, she hung her numerous hats on the Corniche (229 Avenue Kennedy, Marsailles) in the sort of place that might entice even Gerard Depardieu back to France. Continue reading