Bettie Page

On the south wall of the hallway of La Casa del Terror, there are four framed black & white photographs, all of the same woman in various outfits and states of undress, but all with the same sexy, welcoming, playful, unintimidating smile. In the dining room are two statues in her image, and in the living room is an action figure with that same warm smile.

She was a pinup model in the 1950s who had become a cult figure by the time comic book artist Dave Stevens used her face for the main character's girlfriend in The Rocketeer. Subsequently, she became a pop culture icon, with that face emblazoned on everything from lunch boxes to coasters, from statues to posters.

Stevens died earlier this year. And now, we've lost the lady herself--Bettie Page.

Unlike many cult figures who didn't survive to see and enjoy the appreciation of their ever-expanding fanbase, Bettie lived more than long enough to enjoy the attention, even if, by her own admission, she never fully understood it. She did, however, recognize her influence on society, on attitudes toward nudity and sexuality, and even on fashion--In Bettie Page: The Life of a Pin-up Legend (a lavish coffee-table book, whose very existence testifies to her popularity and cultural importance), she commented on the similarity between the bondage gear she wore in the '50s and the concert outfits worn by Madonna.

A few years ago, that book figured into one of my best, sneakiest gift-giving schemes ever. For her 24th birthday, I gave my friend and fellow pop-culture junkie Red Secretary a Britney Spears tour bus, rescued from the discount bin at KB Toys. (She already had the Brit-Brit doll to go with it.) She thanked me for the present, and I suggested that she take the tour bus out of the massive box to make sure nothing was broken or missing. Inside the box, wrapped in appropriate leopard-print paper, was a hardcover copy of Bettie Page: The Life of a Pin-up Legend. (I'd picked up a copy off of eBay days before, but the seller was, it turns out, a heavy smoker, so the book reeked of nicotine; I kept that one and gave RS my own copy instead.) RS, herself a huge Bettie fan, was thrilled: "I almost peed my pants!" she later exclaimed while we walked to the Penny Lane Lounge, where her friends toasted her for many hours. That? Was a good day.

Bettie Page had recently been hospitalized for pneumonia and was about to be released when she suffered a heart attack that put her in a coma. She never woke up and, last night, passed away. She was 85.

That's not how Bettie wanted to be remembered, though--The Life of a Pin-up Legend book contains no contemporary images of her as an elderly lady, and she allowed no more than her hands signing autographs to be photographed. She wanted her many fans to remember her as she was, eyes and smile sparkling eternally, soft curves proudly arched in the sun, the very vision of sexy, flirty fun.

And so we will.