David Niven, one of the men Barbara Hutton dated, described her in his memoir as a "petite snub-nosed blonde, very pretty American girl with the smallest feet I had ever seen...She was gay, a sparkling creature, full of life and laughter." Her closest friends called her a woman of charm, sensitivity, wit, dignity and taste, but her female friends thought that she lacked self-esteem and self-control. This was the image of young Barbara Hutton. As she began to marry and divorce men, life took a toll on her personality. Cary Grant, her third husband recalled that she had interest in poetry, spirituality and dance, and used as an expression that her life didn't provide. Grant cared for Barbara and also her son Lance, which none of her spouses or boyfriends provided. After she was finished with Cary, she stopped finding the right man and started to lead life as it came. She was always on the gossip columns of major newspapers by her extravaganza life styles and care free spending on men of her life. She surrounded herself with a consortium of fawning parasites; European titles, a maharaja or two, sheikhs, and swarm of gays. Cary Grant once said if one phonier Earl had entered the house he would have suffocated. Men were chief stimulus for Barbara Hutton; she bought and sold them, bartered them or replaced them in much the same way a stockbroker operates in the Exchange. She was always in love with several men but real love was her greatest rarities. She divided men into two categories; those she loved and those she took to bed. Her marriages were essentially sexless (sleeping in two separate bedrooms) and her affairs were bereft of love. Her inability to combine the two forces in one man kept her going from one husband to another. Philip Reed, one of the struggling actors she dated, claimed that Barbara Hutton was incapable of sustaining a relationship; that sooner or later she became bored and restless and wanted to leave the relationship yearning for anther man's love. In later part of her life, she became restless and an insomniac. She wrote poetry incessantly or called friends in NY, LA, London, or Tangier, whatever the local time is at these places. Her moods changed from good to bad instantly and haunted her friends. At this time she started developing severe dependency on prescription drugs and controlled substances. At one time her doctor confirmed that she was suffering from anorexia nervosa. Once on her trip from Mexico to NY, she tried to force open the emergency exit and hurl herself out of the airliner. She had difficulty remembering the names of all her husbands and once she said that she doesn't like to walk (for exercise) because she can afford to pay others to do her walking!
Barbara Hutton eventually moved to Beverly Wiltshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, California. At this stage she was like a dead matter; her lawyers, doctors and business advisors had swindled her to the last few dollars. Barbara's personal business counselor Mattison was on the top of the list in misappropriating her inheritance. She still wanted to invite friends for a meal but no one wanted to know her. Every gigolo and a fortune hunter in town learnt of her routine of going to the hotel bar until 3 AM and she was subjected all kinds of tricks from guys to lure her into bed and access to her fortune. On top of that a steady flow of 19 year old beach boys were paid $1,000 a night to keep her company in her hotel bedroom. At the time of her death at 66, she had $3,500 in her checking account.
There were many good sides to Barbara Hutton. She knitted sweaters and socks to raise money for the rehabilitation of disabled French soldiers during WWII and made donations to recruit volunteers to fly war missions for England against German war machine. She was an outspoken advocate of American intervention in the war and did active telephone campaign and took newspaper ads to raise money for contributions to British war chest. She was poetess in her own right, and her first volume, "The enchanted" was published and contained 79 poems. She found solace in the poetry of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. In spite of hundreds of men in her life, the great folly was that she could sense the future but she did nothing to change it. The author has done a marvelous job of narrating her tragic life.
Barbara Hutton eventually moved to Beverly Wiltshire Hotel in Beverly Hills, California. At this stage she was like a dead matter; her lawyers, doctors and business advisors had swindled her to the last few dollars. Barbara's personal business counselor Mattison was on the top of the list in misappropriating her inheritance. She still wanted to invite friends for a meal but no one wanted to know her. Every gigolo and a fortune hunter in town learnt of her routine of going to the hotel bar until 3 AM and she was subjected all kinds of tricks from guys to lure her into bed and access to her fortune. On top of that a steady flow of 19 year old beach boys were paid $1,000 a night to keep her company in her hotel bedroom. At the time of her death at 66, she had $3,500 in her checking account.
There were many good sides to Barbara Hutton. She knitted sweaters and socks to raise money for the rehabilitation of disabled French soldiers during WWII and made donations to recruit volunteers to fly war missions for England against German war machine. She was an outspoken advocate of American intervention in the war and did active telephone campaign and took newspaper ads to raise money for contributions to British war chest. She was poetess in her own right, and her first volume, "The enchanted" was published and contained 79 poems. She found solace in the poetry of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. In spite of hundreds of men in her life, the great folly was that she could sense the future but she did nothing to change it. The author has done a marvelous job of narrating her tragic life.
Reference: Poor Little Rich Girl, by C. David Heymann
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