Tell us about your one-woman show, Broke and Alone.
Joan Rivers:
We started in Edinburgh. I wanted to see if people that didn’t know me would think I’m funny. You know, it’s easy for people who’ve known you 30 years to think you’re funny.
HS:
Didn’t you know you were funny?
JR:
Sure, but I got such amazing reviews in Edinburgh, that people from London started coming over. They insisted I come play the West End. So, I went and played the Royal Haymarket, and again got great reviews. So then we said, let’s take it to Australia. It was a love fest! Then we took it to L.A., and that worked out tip-top fabulous! So then we said, let’s go to New York. They’ll kill me there!
HS:
Do you ever get depressed when things slow up?
JR:
Yes, I do. I love a busy life and going through new doors. I literally gave up my daytime talk show because I just said, I don’t care anymore!
HS:
How were you brought up to have such a productive life?
JR:
First of all, I came from a family of achievers. My dad was an immigrant who worked his way through med school. So, I’ve been brought up to always be busy and to do things. I never take no for an answer!
HS:
You once told me your mother wore lipstick and high heels right to the grave. Are you like her?
JR:
Those were different days. My daughter, who’s doing so well with E!, and just signed with ABC, can’t wait to take her makeup off after a photo session! It’s a different generation. My mother always wanted to look her best for my dad. She did, till the day she died.
HS:
So, she inspired you?
JR:
Totally! I always try to look good. Also, when you’re a celebrity, you meet a lot of new people, and you have to look nice.
HS:
Isn’t that a lot of pressure?
JR:
Sure, but it’s nice. They can walk away and say, “I just met Joan Rivers!” And of course, someone’s going to ask them, “So, what did she really look like? What was she wearing?”
HS:
Tell me how your relationship to your daughter compares to your relationship with your mother.
JR:
My mother and I were very, very close. But there were certain things you just didn’t talk about. For instance, I never realized my mother didn’t have a happy life or a happy marriage until the last couple of years. She may have had an affair—I certainly hope she had an affair! Those things just weren’t discussed. They are now. My daughter and I talk about everything! We’re just as close.
HS:
I heard you weren’t always that close to Melissa.
JR:
Yes, there was that glitch. I always say, suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Suicide wrecks a family. My husband’s unnatural death did horrible things.
HS:
Did Melissa blame you?
JR:
Of course! Why didn’t I see it coming?, she’d ask. Why didn’t I do something? Of course, she was just a child. She had to work through her own demons—which she’s done.
HS:
I suppose “power moms” have special problems, wouldn’t you say?
JR:
You know what my psychologist said? You never get thanked for being a mother! She told me she had a five-year-old in her office once, very angry with her mother. The child blurted out, “I hate her because she did this—and she did that—and besides, it’s raining!” “Just remember Joan,” my doctor said, “It’s always raining. It’s always your fault.”
HS:
What does your two-and-a-half-year old grandchild call you? “Grandma”?
JR:
Exactly! And I want him to! The joke was when I said, “Call me ‘Nana New Face.’” He’s such a cutie-pie—which he wasn’t in the beginning, because, you know, babies are basically boring! Now he’s full of fun and he relates. He’s terrific!
HS:
What’s your take on straight women marrying gay men?
JR:
I think it’s fabulous! Of course, in the end, it really comes down to companionship, loyalty, friendship, and having a good time together—doesn’t it? Every couple starts out hot and heavy sexually; but you look at most relationships that survive for more than 15 years, and what’s the first thing those people say? “He’s (or she’s) my best friend!” If a woman can find a gay man who’s her best friend, well, how wonderful!
HS:
What if he still has relations with other men?
JR:
I guess that would bother me.
HS:
Is it true you had a tummy tuck and a hysterectomy simultaneously?
JR:
Absolutely! Why not?
HS:
I suppose it makes sense. Did you come up with that idea yourself?
JR:
Yes! And they just stared at me when I suggested it. That was 15 years ago.
HS:
Was that how you got started on plastic surgery?
JR:
I realize everyone thinks I’ve done it all; but actually, there wasn’t that much. I’ve had one major face lift, obviously—as every single woman reading this interview has, I’m sure! I’ve had my nose thinned. Now, I do a little—what I call “tune-ups”—every now and then. They go in and do a little pull here, a little tug there, a little Botox. But when I talk about it, everyone thinks, “Oh, my God!”
HS:
And you’re not afraid, at all?
JR:
Of course not! It’s no worse than having a tooth pulled!
HS:
Who, may I ask, is your plastic surgeon?
JR:
Steven Hoefflin, in L.A. I call him up after I’ve seen him, once a year or two, and ask, “So, what’s next?” He either says, “Nothing,” or “Maybe a little collagen,” or “Call back in six months.” He’s great! He’s an artist, and he’s been wonderful.
HS:
Do you go to the Hamptons often?
JR:
Mainly to visit friends. I’m lucky enough to get invited by Carroll Petrie. But I can be anybody’s houseguest in the Hamptons! I think it’s wonderful. But I also have a little hideaway in Connecticut.
HS:
Is that how you relax?
JR:
For relaxation, I paint. Or do nothing.
HS:
What do you paint?
JR:
Ugly paintings.
HS:
Think you’ll ever have a show?
JR:
Oh, God, no! Please! Trust me, they’re really ugly!
HS:
Think you’ll ever have a show?
JR:
Oh, God, no! Please! Trust me, they’re really ugly!
HS:
Then why do you paint?
JR:
After 9/11, I created a little studio in my apartment, and just went there to paint for two weeks straight. That’s how I coped.
HS:
Do you work out?
JR:
Every single day! My very attractive torturer, Francis, comes, and we work out every day. I run and do weights.
HS:
Who’s your favorite designer?
JR:
Whoever lends me the dress!
HS:
What was your happiest and saddest moment?
JR:
Happiest was Melissa’s birth. (Or maybe it was my grandson’s.) Don’t ask about the saddest. Too many to count.
HS:
Has sadness fueled your humor?
JR:
Totally! When I’m happy, I’m not funny.
HS:
You’re known as the “Chief of Fashion Police.” What’s the worst possible fashion faux pas—for celebs or non-celebs?
JR:
Vulgar sexiness. Really bad!
HS:
My pet peeve’s a young woman with her pregnant belly hanging out. What’s yours?
JR:
I don’t like that, either. But maybe it’s generational. My daughter couldn’t care less. To me, it looks like a watermelon’s about to burst. And why would they ever wear a bikini?
HS:
Did you watch the Tonys when the Hairspray lyricists, Marc Shaiman and Scott Wittman, who’ve been together for decades, kissed each other and professed their undying love on primetime TV?
JR:
I really hate public displays of affection, even at weddings. Why do we have to watch a bride and groom go at it at the alter? But it has nothing to do with gay or straight.
HS:
What do you look for in a man?
JR:
First of all, humor. No—take that back—first of all—is he breathing? He has to have a pulse! (Please don’t call if you’re dead.) I also like masculine men. And loyalty’s important.
HS:
Any advice to the lovelorn?
JR:
There’s always another streetcar. So, move on!
HS:
How old do you feel?
JR:
30, 31.
HS:
I thought you might still be in your terrible twos.
JR:
Everything is working. I can get up. On stage, I’m up and down, I’m this, I’m that. Everything is fine.
HS:
Do you ever interact with people that don’t “get” your humor?
JR:
Just the other night, I was at a dinner party talking to this man on my right. Three times between the appetizer and the main course, I had to say, “No! It was a joke!” Can you imagine? People can be so uptight! Don’t say this, and don’t do that. Please, already! I’m sure the secret of my success was I always told the truth onstage. It’s truth that makes things funny.
