my life with the Gabors

Flippin’ the Script #1

It's 1965. The neon lights of the Peppermint Lounge blur as you stumble onto the sidewalk, your ears still ringing with the echoes of "The Twist." As you catch your breath, a familiar Hungarian lilt cuts through the New York night. "Dahling, I am a marvelous housekeeper. Every time I leave a man, I keep his house." You turn, and there she is — a vision in mink. The audacious quip, delivered with a mischievous wink, could only belong to one woman: Zsa Zsa Gabor.

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This imagined encounter captures the very essence of why, since childhood, I've been enthralled by the Gabor sisters — those sparkling sirens who conquered Hollywood with breathy "dahlings." Zsa Zsa and Eva, with their platinum blonde manes and oversized jewels, are icons of campy glamour. Lurking in the rhinestone-studded shadows was Magda, the brunette eldest sister whose story remains mostly a mystery.

And you’re probably thinking, “Caroline, what is this? What could you possibly have in common with these larger-than-life mavens?”

Rude but fair.

But more than you might think. Their tale of reinvention, of crafting an identity as bold and glittering as their diamonds, speaks to something deep within me – and perhaps, within all of us.

Eva, Magda, Zsa Zsa

My Gabor obsession traces back to the eclectic seniors who nurtured me in my youth. With working parents, I was often in the care of two couples: my grandparents, Janie and Mel, and our neighbors, G and Bob. These four unwittingly bestowed upon me a unique cultural education through their stubbornly narrow TV preferences.

The Game Show Network sparked my admiration for Arlene Francis, while the Westerns Channel painted my imagination with sepia-toned vistas. But it was TV Land that introduced me to my first Gabor — Eva starring as Lisa Douglas in Green Acres. Her cotton-candy coiffure defied gravity. Her wardrobe, a confection of fabrics, whispered of worlds beyond Louisiana. And as the rocks of her rings scattered prismatic light across the screen, her laugh — a melodious, carefree sound — filled the room. I had no choice but to fall enchanted.

Now, when the world weighs heavily, I find solace in those old episodes. In watching Eva engage in earnest conversations with pigs and chickens — a surrealistic escape. It's more than mere nostalgia; it's a portal back to the tranquility of my early childhood years. In those moments, the boundaries between the absurd and the profound blur. It’s bliss.

This unlikely combination — the loving presence of my caretakers and the technicolor world of classic television — created a kaleidoscope of memories that still tints my worldview. And at the heart of it all, stand those Gabors…

(top) Eva in a publicity still for Green Acres. (center) The original Kris Jenner, Jolie Gabor, with Eva and Zsa Zsa.(bottom) Zsa Zsa being Zsa Zsa.

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Time has stripped away my childlike wonder, revealing these sisters in startling clarity. These women, I now realize, were architects of their own mythos — master illusionists crafting a dazzling façade. Their platinum locks? Bottled. Those perfect noses? Sculpted. Yet herein lies their genius — they never pretended otherwise. The Gabors weren't selling authenticity; they were selling a dream.

Because beneath the glamour lurked a darker truth. These flashy personas were armor, forged in war-torn Europe. They were the creations of young women who had stared into the abyss of global conflict, who had felt the ground shake beneath their feet, and who emerged determined to control their own narratives. But the Gabors didn't just remodel themselves; they rebuilt themselves from the ground up. This polished guise concealed remarkable stories: Magda's heroic efforts in helping Jewish families escape Budapest during Hitler’s reign of terror, Zsa Zsa's harrowing experience of being forcibly hospitalized by her second husband, or the fact that "Zsa Zsa" wasn't even her given name. Instead, what we see is exactly what they wanted us to see — a reinvention as quintessentially American as Jay Gatsby or Coca-Cola.

Like Gatsby, the Gabors crafted larger-than-life characters, blurring the lines between reality and fiction in pursuit of their own “American dream.” They understood, as Fitzgerald's tragic hero did, that one's past could be rewritten, one's identity reshaped. And like Coca-Cola, they became a brand unto themselves — instantly recognizable and symbolizing a particular kind of excess. The Gabors bottled their charisma and sold it to the public, representing an idealized, unrealistic, but utterly intoxicating version of the American experience.

And in doing so, they birthed themselves anew.

What seemed manufactured to outsiders was, paradoxically, the most pure expression of who they wanted to be. And maybe that's the crux of my enduring fascination with them. Their journey resonates with my own desire to embody whatever feels most genuine to me, irrespective of my past selves or others' judgments. The Gabors remind me that authenticity isn't about adhering to who I once was, but about becoming who I want to be. About seeking alignment.

This realization has been liberating. You see, I’ll always carry old Caroline with me, but she doesn't need to be on display. She doesn’t need to be the weight pulling me against the current.

And the opinions or mockeries of others become irrelevant in the face of personal freedom.

While the Gabors were often the butt of jokes, what if their seemingly outrageous behavior was never meant for our entertainment? What if their multiple marriages, provocative statements, and "mad" antics were simply expressions of their own desires and agency?

Because while society scrutinized their choices, they lived lives brimming with experiences, each marriage and headline-grabbing moment a chapter in their self-authored stories.

I won't say that I think the Gabors are particularly good role models, but that's not the point of this reflection. Their lives were complex, often controversial, and not without their share of problematic aspects. However, their unapologetic approach to voluntary reinvention and their determination to live on their own terms offers value.

And all I know is, that like Zsa Zsa, I aspire to a life so rich and unpredictable that I have no choice but to grow old and “pen” a memoir titled One Lifetime is Not Enough. (An unhinged, hilarious read. 10/10).

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As I reflect on the Gabors' legacy, I hear Zsa Zsa saying, "I tell you, in this world, being a little crazy helps to keep you sane." This sentiment perfectly encapsulates their approach to life — a blend of flamboyance with an underlying wisdom that’s often dismissed. And in a world that demands conformity, the Gabors' brand of "crazy" was their way of maintaining their sanity, their sense of self, and their joy in the face of life's challenges.

Their “crazy” was a gift!

And it’s equally a gift, that my childhood fascination has blossomed into an appreciation for nuance. An appreciation for what they represent: the power of self-definition, the courage to live, and the audacity to laugh at themselves.

As I navigate my own winding path, I hope to carry this duality: lessons from my steadfast, nurturing childhood elders and the Gabors' bold, unflappable spirit.

And with these lessons, I can craft a life as colorful, daring, and truthful as the ones the sisters created for themselves. And in doing so, perhaps I can transform my own history into a story worth telling — one feathered boa and witty quip at a time.

News Alert #1: This exploration of the Gabor sisters kicks off my new monthly series, "Flippin' the Script." Here, I'll shed light on women — real and fictional — often viewed through a narrow lens. By peeling back the layers of these complex figures, from the Gabors to other misunderstood women in history and pop culture, I aim to challenge our preconceptions and uncover gritty truths. Together, we'll explore how these often dismissed or oversimplified women offer valuable insights into our own lives and the world around us. Join me each month, alongside my usual writings, as we embark on this journey of rediscovery and reinterpretation.

News Alert #2: I’m taking a break for the rest of July! My brother is visiting next weekend and I have an impromptu work trip the following. I’ll see you back here on August 3rd. BIG, BIG LOVE, always!

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