Joan Collins: My family values
The actress talks about her showbusiness family, her five husbands and why she never ignores her sister Jackie!
Joan Collins: 'My mother was sweet and placid, just what the perfect wife was supposed to be – and I was determined not to be.' Photograph: Ken McKay/Rex Features
I blame my grandmother for encouraging me to become an actress. She taught me to sing, tap dance and even do the splits – which I can still do. "Oh, Grandma, what bendy legs you have!" I squealed when, at Christmas at the Collins abode, she performed her famous splits to a packed room. It was a trick she had learned as a dancer and soubrette while touring the capes of South Africa with her two sisters, entertaining troops on leave from the Boer war. My father, Joe, followed her into the business and became a successful variety agent – our house was always full of performers. But he strongly discouraged me from becoming an actress and warned I would be washed up by 23.
My grandmother spoiled my father rotten and he grew up expecting women to do whatever he wanted. When he married my beautiful mother, Elsa, he expected her to give up her career as a champion ballroom dancer and become a good wife and mother, which she dutifully did. He loved us dearly, but was quite dismissive of my sister Jackie and me. He never cuddled or kissed us, rarely played with us and never helped with homework. But he taught me to be tough and self-reliant.
My mother was a domestic goddess and Mother Earth figure. She was sweet and placid – just what the perfect wife was supposed to be and I was determined not to be. She was also extremely naive. She never told me about menstruation, so it came as a huge surprise. And I had no idea about sex. Her death from cancer in 1962 came as a big shock. My father was so emotionally overwhelmed when she became seriously ill that if anyone inquired about her health, he refused to answer. When she died, he was grief stricken.
I married my first husband, Maxwell Reed, who was 14 years older than me, on my 19th birthday. He was a film star and I had been one of his biggest fans. But technically he raped me on our first date and because I had "done it", which nice girls never did in the 50s, I tried to wipe it from my mind and started dating him! The rot set in swiftly after the marriage, but the crunch came when a Middle Eastern gentleman offered Max ten grand if he would let me sleep with him. To my horror, he wanted to close the deal. "He'll even let me watch," he hissed.
After the divorce, I started to become broody and found an unlikely father figure in the actor and singer Anthony Newley, though he admitted he had never been faithful. It was foolish to ignore the warning because he had quite a few children in and out of marriage. But I got what I wanted: two beautiful babies, Tara and Sacha.
My third husband, Ronald Kass, a recording executive and film producer, was one of the few people who matched my physical energy, and we had a daughter, Katyana. The marriage ended when he became addicted to cocaine and, later, heroin. However, the problems with my previous husbands paled in comparison with my fourth – Peter Holm, a fading Swedish pop singer, who was a mixture of obdurate dullard and calculating sociopath. We married at the height of my Dynasty fame, but I came home early from work one day and found him in bed with another woman. Our marriage was a sham, and I was his meal ticket.
Jackie understands me more than practically any of my friends, and I have ignored her advice at my peril. She thought I was mad when I married Peter Holm and didn't approve of my relationship with the art dealer Robin Hurlstone, so we were not as close then. Thankfully, she adores my husband Percy, so now we're having the best of times.
I had no intention of marrying again. What changed? Percy Gibson. We met in New York in 2000 shortly before I was due to tour in a play. Percy was to be the producer. He was kind, loving and funny, and eventually we began a passionate affair. I was in my 60s and he was in his 30s, but the age difference never posed a problem. We talked it through and he didn't want children. He adores my children and grandchildren. We've been married for 11 years, but when I look at him across a room, my heart still skips. I don't think about the future and we never discuss what might happen in 20 years. If he dies, he dies!
• Passion for Life by Joan Collins is published by Constable & Robinson
My grandmother spoiled my father rotten and he grew up expecting women to do whatever he wanted. When he married my beautiful mother, Elsa, he expected her to give up her career as a champion ballroom dancer and become a good wife and mother, which she dutifully did. He loved us dearly, but was quite dismissive of my sister Jackie and me. He never cuddled or kissed us, rarely played with us and never helped with homework. But he taught me to be tough and self-reliant.
My mother was a domestic goddess and Mother Earth figure. She was sweet and placid – just what the perfect wife was supposed to be and I was determined not to be. She was also extremely naive. She never told me about menstruation, so it came as a huge surprise. And I had no idea about sex. Her death from cancer in 1962 came as a big shock. My father was so emotionally overwhelmed when she became seriously ill that if anyone inquired about her health, he refused to answer. When she died, he was grief stricken.
I married my first husband, Maxwell Reed, who was 14 years older than me, on my 19th birthday. He was a film star and I had been one of his biggest fans. But technically he raped me on our first date and because I had "done it", which nice girls never did in the 50s, I tried to wipe it from my mind and started dating him! The rot set in swiftly after the marriage, but the crunch came when a Middle Eastern gentleman offered Max ten grand if he would let me sleep with him. To my horror, he wanted to close the deal. "He'll even let me watch," he hissed.
After the divorce, I started to become broody and found an unlikely father figure in the actor and singer Anthony Newley, though he admitted he had never been faithful. It was foolish to ignore the warning because he had quite a few children in and out of marriage. But I got what I wanted: two beautiful babies, Tara and Sacha.
My third husband, Ronald Kass, a recording executive and film producer, was one of the few people who matched my physical energy, and we had a daughter, Katyana. The marriage ended when he became addicted to cocaine and, later, heroin. However, the problems with my previous husbands paled in comparison with my fourth – Peter Holm, a fading Swedish pop singer, who was a mixture of obdurate dullard and calculating sociopath. We married at the height of my Dynasty fame, but I came home early from work one day and found him in bed with another woman. Our marriage was a sham, and I was his meal ticket.
Jackie understands me more than practically any of my friends, and I have ignored her advice at my peril. She thought I was mad when I married Peter Holm and didn't approve of my relationship with the art dealer Robin Hurlstone, so we were not as close then. Thankfully, she adores my husband Percy, so now we're having the best of times.
I had no intention of marrying again. What changed? Percy Gibson. We met in New York in 2000 shortly before I was due to tour in a play. Percy was to be the producer. He was kind, loving and funny, and eventually we began a passionate affair. I was in my 60s and he was in his 30s, but the age difference never posed a problem. We talked it through and he didn't want children. He adores my children and grandchildren. We've been married for 11 years, but when I look at him across a room, my heart still skips. I don't think about the future and we never discuss what might happen in 20 years. If he dies, he dies!
• Passion for Life by Joan Collins is published by Constable & Robinson
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