Down the Rabbit Hole - Holly Madison

industry bigwigs who were all there to toast my debut. Josh and Angel helped me laugh off the mean
text from Criss’s girlfriend. And despite the lift debacle, my reviews were glowing and advance
ticket sales skyrocketed—making for some very happy producers. Planet Hollywood even blacked
out the “Wood” on the hotel’s giant neon sign so it read “Planet Holly” for the night. Was I dreaming?
Or did this somehow really become my life?
RIGHT AROUND THE TIME of my arrival, Planet Hollywood announced an upcoming auction of some of
Marilyn Monroe’s personal belongings, which would be put on display throughout the casino. When I
was asked to model them for an upcoming magazine feature, I couldn’t believe my luck.
Beyond honored, I modeled many of Marilyn’s personal items, which I recognized from famous
photos of the star: a white terry cloth bathrobe, an orange Pucci top, a curve-hugging fuchsia day
dress, etc. I was fascinated with the quality of the pieces—things were constructed with so much
more care back in Marilyn’s time! Even her causal wear was of the highest quality.
A few items from Marilyn’s movies were in the collection, too. Flushed with excitement, I tried
on the original custom-tailored piece intended for her “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend” number
—a costume that was deemed too risqué and was eventually replaced in the film by the iconic pink
gown. Much has been said about Marilyn’s figure, and, like many women, her weight fluctuated over
the years, but this circa-1953 costume fit me like a glove. The flesh-toned leotard was covered with a
light fishnet, creating the illusion of being completely nude under the netting. The piece was so well
built, the boning carved out my waist without feeling heavy or tight, like a typical corset. A handful of
rhinestones glittered across the bust, creating a sparkly, “nude” look. It was hard to imagine that any
other garment could make me feel sexier.
There was one more piece that made a lasting impression on me. After donning a strapless
cream-colored cocktail dress and gorgeous amber necklace from Marilyn’s personal collection, I was
handed a kimono wrap to complete the look. There was no mistaking the frilly, violet and pink
Edwardian-style confection. It was a piece Marilyn wore in The Prince and the Showgirl—the same
kimono wrap depicted in my beloved Marilyn Monroe paper doll set all those years earlier.
Twirling around in front of the mirror like a little girl, I understood what Cinderella must have
felt like when her Fairy Godmother waved her magic wand and produced the most perfect ball gown.
I was in absolute awe—it was surreal to imagine that she had worn these very same pieces, decades
before me, and how, as a little girl, I shut my eyes and dreamed about what it would feel like to be
her for just a moment.
And now I knew. Like me, Marilyn had suffered at the hands of some not very nice men. She was
used, unappreciated, and struggled to find herself. She worked her way up in Hollywood with stars in
her eyes and a kind heart, but found that Hollywood wasn’t always as kind in return. She may have
been publically adored, idolized, and lusted after, but she often felt alone and trapped. Those dark
demons eventually got the best of Marilyn. Part of me knows that could have easily been my fate had I
not chosen to take care of myself. I only wish poor Marilyn could have done the same.