On Not Being Peggy Lipton
By Michele Willens
I remember her picture on the cover of TV Guide as if it appeared yesterday. That flawless, sweet face, the long blonde straight hair. She was everything I was not.
I have often written about those we assume have what psychiatrists call a “soft ride.” Peggy Lipton surely qualified. She came from a nice, well-to-do family, and likely never went through the chubby, acne period. Or had trouble finding a date for the prom. She started modeling, moved to Hollywood, was discovered quickly, married a powerful music man, and gave birth to accomplished attractive children. Of course, no one’s ride is forever soft, and even she had to face things like divorce, and ultimately, that beauty-blind foe, cancer.
I can’t think of many others — excluding Harper Lee and Margaret Mitchell, of course — who were remembered so vividly for basically one artistic venture. And in Peggy Lipton’s case, not even a great one. We are talking about a TV series whose run was relatively brief, and did not make any “Best” lists. Yes, it was notable for offering a mixed-race cast, and featuring some issue-oriented flavor. Though these were nice hippies, rebels without cause, on the good side of the law. Still, we remember them well… more accurately, we remember her.
Aside from the fact that she and I were raised in upper-class Jewish homes, (and our fathers, both named Harold, knew each other) I could not have felt less Lipton-like. An insecure, curly haired brunette, my idols, from childhood on, changed annually. I went from Annette’s mouse ears to Gidget’s swimsuits, to Hayley’s short bob. Later, I picked up a guitar to try being Joan and, finally. as I turned to the profession of writing, (including cover stories for TV Guide) I imagined being the next Nora. Still, when Peggy Lipton had her moment, so many of us saw that face, that hair, and felt lacking all over again.
It’s interesting that the day after Peggy died, Doris Day also left us. While their careers were hardly comparable, they were bookends of a sort. Doris ended her illustrious run just about when Peggy was beginning hers. The former had been the biggest box office draw in the country, but she was savvy enough to see that times were a changing. Peggy, in some ways, represented that change. Both women chose to leave the limelight and find other lives.
It is disturbing that looks so define us: creating envy on one side, and, yes, resentment on the other. One thinks of gorgeous Hedy Lamar, whose other assets, like helping to discover radar during World War Two, were virtually ignored. I will always be jealous of Peggy Lipton, but I like to think ’twas more than beauty that has made her so memorable.
Michele Willens is a bi-coastal journalist, a theatre critic for an NPR affiliate, editor of “Face It: What Women Really Feel As Their Looks Change,” and co-writer of the “Now…and Then” column for The Wrap.