20 years on: Joan Collins
The pay cheques were as big as the shoulder pads, but Dynasty had to end.
The writing was on the wall long before shoulder pads went into cold storage (“They’ll be back!”I foretold accurately, and indeed massive shoulders have been all the rage at the Paris couture shows.)
At the end of the 1980s, when ABC execs told me they could no longer afford to pay my exorbitant salary — which had finally matched John Forsythe’s [he played Blake Carrington] — and therefore I would henceforth only appear in half the episodes of the season, I knew the gig was up. Granted, I was making wheelbarrows of money by 1980s standards.
But John Forsythe appeared in almost every episode and made twice what I made.
Heaven forfend that being a woman had anything to do with this. It was commonly believed in many businesses that women were disposable. “But, Dynasty with less Alexis, surely that’s network suicide?” a friend predicted. Sadly, she was right. The ratings for Dynasty, which ended in 1989, dropped dramatically each week as the producers brought in different actors and ridiculous scenarios to fill the gap. Sometimes angry fans would accost me, demanding to know why I hardly featured in their favourite show, as if it were my fault.
I was sad about this but also resigned, certain in my knowledge that it would never last for ever. Dynasty had been a hit — the biggest show of the mid-1980s — and had brought me fame and fortune to a staggering degree, but I could see the decade that greed begot was limping towards its end. Besides, let’s face it — there’s only so much “I hate you, Blake, I hate you and I’ll make you pay for this” one actress can convincingly spit out before it becomes ludicrous.
The flashy outfits, the outsize bling and the lifestyles that so many had attempted to emulate were no longer stylish or chic. They quickly became tacky and démodé as the world turned more casual and grungy. The ’80s had been the “me” decade — greed, grab and graft conspicuously seemed the modus operandi, and nothing anyone did, however outrageous, seemed out of place or shocking.
It was the decade of Concorde, that gorgeous, sleek supersonic jet that whisked you between two continents in less than four hours. Breakfast in London, a quick lunch meeting in NY and back for dinner in Paris — high-flying businessmen revelled in this new-found time travel, as more time meant more money. The bull market soared, the financial wizards and brokers came into their own, trading billions with the insouciance of Michael Douglas in the film Wall Street and sowing the seeds of the hedge-fund phenomenon of the 1990s and the apocalypse that now ensues.
Mrs Thatcher and President Reagan epitomised the new prosperity — in the ’80s the American dream came true for many, while the UK saw a renaissance of the British dream, soon to turn into a nightmare.
It was one long spending spree, and not just for me. Everyone, it seemed, was doing a Viv Nicholson and wanting to spend, spend, spend! I am much more frugal now than I was then.
The clothes budget on Dynasty was astronomical. Every leading actress wore between three and seven bespoke outfits each week, and most of those gorgeously beaded and decorated evening gowns cost upwards of $7,000. Luckily for us, when we had to attend various industry red-carpet functions, the producers would kindly lend us these dresses to wear. But we always had to return them under the beady eye of one of the producer’s wives.
It was party season all year round in London, Los Angeles and the south of France, and I was invited to fabulous events from Milan to Marrakesh, all expenses paid. Of course, things were much less expensive then. A ready-to-wear Chanel suit cost around $2,000, while today it’s over $5,000. And lunches and dinners at glamorous restaurants were at least half what they are now (£9 for a bottle of Evian in some boîtes — so ridiculous!).
I was always good with money in two ways: earning it and spending it. Saving was unfortunately beyond my ken — and I had to keep on earning.
We had great times in the ’80s, and partied like it was 1999, but 2000 came around and the world started to change. The 1990s saw the end of individualist entrepreneurship — instead we entered the era of the bloated multinational, which only survived by merging, acquiring and morphing until finally it got so greedy it exploded in one large, resounding and very final crack.