Clara Bow: The Girl Who Had “It” Before Hollywood Knew What “It” Was
SilverScreen Legends
Before Marilyn Monroe stood over a subway grate, before Jean Harlow became Hollywood’s Platinum Blonde, and decades before celebrities became “famous for being famous,” there was Clara Bow.
She didn't need a catchphrase.
She didn't need a carefully manufactured society image.
She didn't even need to speak.
Clara Bow walked onto a silent movie screen, smiled, tossed her bobbed red hair, and somehow made an entire country feel as though she were letting them in on a private joke.
Hollywood eventually gave her a name for this mysterious quality.
“It.”
The phrase became so closely associated with Bow that nearly a century later we still call someone with irresistible star power an “It Girl.”
But Clara Bow was far more interesting than the nickname.
Behind that mischievous smile was a Brooklyn girl who grew up in poverty, survived an extraordinarily difficult childhood, won a magazine contest that changed her life, became one of the biggest movie stars in America, helped define the flapper generation, survived Hollywood gossip at its ugliest—and walked away from the screen before she was thirty.
She wasn't simply the face of the Jazz Age.
For a few extraordinary years, Clara Bow practically was the Jazz Age.
Before Hollywood, There Was Brooklyn
Clara Gordon Bow was born on July 29, 1905, in Brooklyn, New York.
The glamorous Hollywood legend began about as far from glamour as one could imagine.
Bow grew up in poverty in a troubled household. Her father was frequently absent, and her mother suffered serious emotional and psychological problems. Clara's childhood could be frightening and lonely.
Movies became an escape.
She loved going to the pictures and became fascinated by the people on the screen.
And here is one of those details that makes her story sound like something Hollywood would invent later:
Clara Bow actually entered a movie magazine contest—and won.
The “Fame and Fortune” contest promised the winner a chance at motion pictures. Bow submitted photographs, competed against other young hopefuls, and eventually came out on top.
She had found her doorway into the movies.
There was only one small problem.
Hollywood initially didn't seem particularly interested in opening it.
Her first movie was Beyond the Rainbow, filmed in 1921 and released in 1922.
Clara's scenes were cut.
Imagine winning a national contest to become a movie actress, finally getting into a movie, gathering everyone you know to watch it—
and discovering that Hollywood had removed you.
Not exactly the triumphant debut one dreams about.
Fortunately, Clara Bow was not particularly good at accepting defeat.
After she became famous, Beyond the Rainbow was reissued with her deleted scenes restored and—because Hollywood has always appreciated irony—her name prominently advertised.
Clara Didn't Look Like a Movie Star. That Was the Point.
Hollywood actresses of the early 1920s could often seem polished, distant, elegant, and slightly untouchable.
Then Clara Bow showed up.
She was energetic.
Impulsive.
Funny.
Flirtatious.
Athletic.
Unpolished.
She moved like somebody who had somewhere to go.
She didn't seem like a marble statue posing for the camera.
She seemed alive.
Contemporary observers noticed immediately that she was different. Early newspaper coverage described the young Brooklyn actress as ambitious, independent and more “rough and tumble” than the usual screen newcomer.
That quality became her secret weapon.
Clara Bow didn't look as though she had descended from some Hollywood cloud.
She looked like the girl who might live down the street.
Except the girl down the street probably couldn't command a movie screen by raising one eyebrow.
She Could Cry on Cue—With a Little Help From a Lullaby
Here is a wonderful Clara Bow detail that doesn't get mentioned nearly enough.
On silent movie sets, musicians were sometimes employed to play during filming to help actors find the emotional mood of a scene.
When Clara needed to cry, she reportedly requested one particular song:
“Rock-a-Bye Baby.”
It worked.
Apparently the lullaby could bring her to tears.
So while audiences watched Clara Bow sob beautifully on screen, somewhere just off camera a small orchestra may have been playing a children's bedtime song.
Old Hollywood was magnificent.
Today an actor might request quiet, mood lighting, an acting coach and fifteen minutes alone.
Clara Bow apparently needed somebody to start playing:
“Rock-a-bye baby…”
…and she was ready for the close-up.
Then Hollywood Discovered She Had “It”
By 1926, Bow had become a major attraction at Paramount.
Then came It in 1927.
The movie was based loosely on the concept popularized by British novelist Elinor Glyn.
What exactly was “It”?
That was part of the fun.
“It” meant magnetism.
Sex appeal.
Confidence.
That mysterious quality that makes everyone in the room suddenly notice one particular person.
In other words:
Nobody could properly define it, but everybody knew when Clara Bow walked into the room.
Paramount recognized an extraordinary marketing opportunity.
The studio reportedly paid Elinor Glyn $50,000, purchased the rights to the concept, put her into the movie in a cameo, and promoted Clara Bow as the living embodiment of “It.”
It worked spectacularly.
Clara Bow became:
The It Girl.
And an expression born in the 1920s never really disappeared.
We still use it today.
Every generation has its “It Girl.”
But Clara Bow was the original.
And the Movie Called It Is Much Sweeter Than You Might Expect
Considering the reputation surrounding the movie, people sometimes expect It to be scandalous.
It really isn't.
Clara plays Betty Lou Spence, a working-class shopgirl who develops a crush on the wealthy manager of the department store where she works.
Betty Lou doesn't sit around hoping destiny notices her.
She decides she wants the man.
Then she goes after him.
There is something wonderfully modern about her.
She is playful, determined, resourceful and thoroughly unimpressed by social rules that suggest a shopgirl should know her place.
One title card has Betty Lou look at the man she wants and essentially ask Santa Claus to deliver him.
Subtle?
No.
Effective?
Very.
The real attraction isn't the plot.
It's Clara.
When Bow appears on screen, you understand immediately why an entire marketing campaign could be built around a quality nobody could quite explain.
1927 Was a Very Good Year to Be Clara Bow
As though It wasn't enough, Clara Bow also appeared that year in Wings.
If that title sounds familiar, it should.
Wings became the first film ever to receive the Academy Award for Outstanding Picture, the honor that eventually became known as Best Picture.
The film is remembered for its extraordinary World War I flying sequences and stars Charles “Buddy” Rogers and Richard Arlen.
There is also a young actor named Gary Cooper who appears briefly and somehow manages to make people notice him.
Gary Cooper would eventually become one of Hollywood's greatest stars.
At the time?
Clara Bow was the attraction.
The Library of Congress lists Wings as part of the National Film Registry, preserving Clara's place in one of the most historically important films of the silent era.
So in one year Clara Bow starred in the film that made “It Girl” part of our vocabulary and appeared in the first Best Picture winner.
Not bad for the Brooklyn girl whose first movie appearance had been cut out.
She Was Paramount's Gold Mine—But Hollywood's Math Was Interesting
By the late 1920s, Clara Bow was one of Paramount's most valuable stars.
A fascinating 1927 Hollywood trade publication reported that producer B. P. Schulberg sold his personal contract with Bow to Paramount for $100,000.
Clara herself was reportedly earning $1,500 per week under that arrangement.
The publication actually questioned whether that was particularly fair considering how valuable she had become to the studio.
Old Hollywood lesson number 437:
If the studio calls you priceless, check your paycheck.
Bow was generating enormous interest, selling tickets, appearing in magazines and becoming one of the most recognizable women in America.
Yet like many early stars, the business around Clara Bow was often making considerably more money from Clara Bow than Clara Bow was making from being Clara Bow.
Hollywood Loved Clara Bow—Until It Loved Gossip More
There was another side to her fame.
The press became obsessed with Clara's private life.
Who was she dating?
Who had she dated?
Who might she date next Tuesday?
Was she engaged?
Was she secretly engaged?
Was she secretly not engaged to someone she had supposedly secretly been engaged to?
Newspapers treated her romantic life as though national security depended on it.
Some stories were true.
Others were exaggerated.
Still others were complete nonsense.
But once a celebrity gets turned into a symbol, reality becomes inconvenient.
Clara had become the “It Girl,” so newspapers increasingly portrayed her as if she were personally responsible for everything reckless about the 1920s.
She wasn't allowed merely to be a young woman having relationships.
She became a morality play.
The same media culture that had eagerly built her up discovered that tearing her down sold newspapers too.
Hollywood has changed tremendously since 1927.
That particular business model has aged remarkably well.
The Secretary, the Trial, and a Public Feeding Frenzy
One of the ugliest episodes came when Bow's former secretary, Daisy De Voe, was accused of stealing money and property from her.
The resulting 1931 trial became a sensation.
Instead of remaining simply a case about alleged theft, the proceedings exposed personal information about Clara's finances, relationships and private life.
Newspapers feasted on every detail.
De Voe faced numerous charges but was ultimately convicted on one grand-theft count involving $825 taken from Bow.
Clara, meanwhile, was being publicly humiliated while supposedly being the victim in the case.
The pressure was enormous.
The scandal contributed to an emotional collapse, hospitalization and the unraveling of her relationship with Paramount.
There is an uncomfortable lesson buried inside Clara Bow's story.
Celebrity culture didn't need television.
It didn't need TMZ.
It didn't need Twitter.
Give 1931 enough newspapers and a courtroom, and it could destroy somebody perfectly well on its own.
Did Clara Bow's Brooklyn Accent Kill Her Career?
This is one of the biggest myths surrounding Bow.
The familiar story goes something like this:
Silent movies ended.
Clara Bow opened her mouth.
A Brooklyn accent came out.
Career over.
It's a neat story.
It is also far too simple.
Clara was genuinely nervous about sound.
Microphones in early talkies were technically difficult, acting styles were changing rapidly, and Bow was self-conscious about her voice.
Her first talking film was The Wild Party (1929), directed by Dorothy Arzner.
Audiences rushed to hear the famous It Girl speak.
And the movie was successful.
So much for instant disaster.
The real problem wasn't simply Clara's accent.
She was under extraordinary personal and professional stress. Sound filmmaking made her anxious, scandals surrounded her, the press was relentless, and years of exhausting production schedules were catching up with her.
TCM's account notes that Bow was given only about two weeks to prepare for her sound debut, yet The Wild Party still drew audiences eager to hear her voice.
Sound didn't simply kill Clara Bow.
Life became heavier than the movies were worth.
And Yes, Clara Bow Had to Sing
Because apparently early sound technology had not frightened her enough.
In Love Among the Millionaires (1930), Clara Bow sang.
This was a woman who had built one of the greatest silent-screen careers of the 1920s and suddenly found herself confronting microphones, dialogue and musical numbers.
It is worth remembering how bizarre that transition must have felt for silent stars.
Imagine being one of the world's greatest professional race-car drivers.
Then one morning your boss says:
“Wonderful work. Starting Monday, the car flies.”
Some actors adapted beautifully.
Some didn't.
Clara could make sound films.
The question was whether she still wanted the life that came with them.
Clara Bow Walked Away at Twenty-Eight
After leaving Paramount, Bow made two films for Fox:
Call Her Savage (1932)
and
Hoop-La (1933).
Then she was done.
Twenty-eight years old.
Think about that.
Many Hollywood stars haven't even reached their most famous roles by twenty-eight.
Clara Bow had already gone from Brooklyn poverty to international celebrity, helped define the flapper era, become the original It Girl, appeared in the first Best Picture winner, survived one of Hollywood's ugliest gossip machines, transitioned into sound—
and retired.
She married Western actor Rex Bell and moved away from Hollywood life to a ranch in Nevada. They had two sons.
After years of being treated like public property, Clara wanted something private.
Something real.
One can hardly blame her.
Clara Bow Wasn't the Flapper. She Was What the Flapper Represented.
When we picture a 1920s flapper today, the image can become almost a costume:
Bobbed hair.
Short dress.
Long beads.
Rolled stockings.
Cigarette holder.
Charleston.
Done.
But Clara Bow represented something deeper.
She represented a young woman who didn't wait politely for life to happen.
Her characters worked.
Flirted.
Made mistakes.
Chased men.
Changed their minds.
Got jealous.
Had fun.
Wanted things.
And most dangerously of all for the era—
they didn't always apologize for wanting them.
Bow's appeal wasn't simply sexual.
It was energetic.
She looked free.
For women who had grown up under stricter Victorian expectations, there was something thrilling about watching Clara Bow run across a screen as though nobody had remembered to tell her what a respectable young lady was supposed to do.
One of Her Best Films Is Called Mantrap—Which Sounds About Right
Before It, Bow starred in Victor Fleming's Mantrap (1926).
The title alone sounds like someone sat down and said:
“What should we call the Clara Bow movie?”
“Mantrap?”
“Perfect. Lunch.”
But the film became important in establishing her screen personality.
Bow plays Alverna, a flirtatious young woman whose energy completely overwhelms the men around her.
The film did strong business, received good notices and helped Bow secure a long-term Paramount contract with a greatly increased salary.
If you want to understand Clara Bow before the words “It Girl” permanently attached themselves to her, Mantrap is a very good place to start.
The camera loved her.
More importantly, Clara seemed to love the camera back.
Another Clara Bow Surprise: Hula
Then there is Hula (1927).
Clara plays the free-spirited daughter of a Hawaiian pineapple plantation owner.
During the movie she rides a horse, rescues a dog, dances and famously goes skinny-dipping.
Because apparently Clara Bow's contract included a clause requiring at least three scandals per reel.
The Library of Congress has preserved and screened the film, which remains a wonderful example of the sheer physical energy Bow brought to the screen.
Watch her closely.
She doesn't merely stand in front of the camera and look beautiful.
She is constantly doing something.
Reacting.
Moving.
Watching.
Thinking.
Teasing.
Clara Bow understood the camera almost instinctively.
And Tragically, Some Clara Bow Films Are Gone Forever
Like so many silent stars, Clara Bow has another enemy besides time.
Film decomposition.
Many of her movies are lost.
The Library of Congress has documented the staggering loss of American silent feature films, and several Bow pictures disappeared along with thousands of others.
One particularly painful example is Ladies of the Mob (1928).
It gave Bow an opportunity for a more serious dramatic performance.
The film is now considered lost.
In fact, all four features Bow made in 1928 are reported lost.
That is why film preservation matters.
We don't merely lose entertainment when a silent film disappears.
We lose performances.
Faces.
Sets.
Fashion.
Street scenes.
Gestures.
Pieces of people's lives.
Somewhere Clara Bow gave performances that no living person may ever see again.
That makes the films we still have considerably more precious.
Clara Bow Died Long Ago. The “It Girl” Never Did.
Clara Bow died on September 27, 1965.
She was sixty years old.
By then Hollywood had gone through several generations of new stars.
Garbo.
Dietrich.
Harlow.
Hayworth.
Monroe.
Taylor.
Yet the phrase associated with Clara remained.
It Girl.
We still say it.
Nearly a hundred years later.
That's an astonishing cultural footprint for a woman whose greatest films contained no spoken dialogue at all.
Why Clara Bow Still Matters
Clara Bow deserves better than being remembered as a cute photograph of a flapper with bobbed hair.
She was one of the performers who helped teach movies how to feel modern.
She didn't appear to be acting at the audience.
She seemed to be sharing something with them.
There was mischief in her face.
Vulnerability too.
She could be sexy without seeming calculated, funny without begging for laughs, and emotional without turning every scene into a theatrical performance.
Most of all, Clara Bow felt real.
Perhaps that is what “It” actually was.
Not beauty.
Hollywood had plenty of beautiful women.
Not sex appeal.
Hollywood certainly had plenty of that.
“It” was the strange electricity that happens when the camera finds somebody it cannot ignore.
Clara Bow had it.
Paramount knew it.
Elinor Glyn knew it.
Millions of moviegoers knew it.
And almost a century later, watch Clara Bow smile into a silent movie camera and something remarkable happens.
You know it too.
Clara Bow didn't simply become the first It Girl.
She became the reason we're still looking for the next one.
Explore More Clara Bow
Want to see Clara Bow beyond the photographs and the legend of the “It Girl”? Explore some of her surviving work and discover why audiences found her impossible to ignore.
Call Her Savage (1932) – Clara Bow Pre-Code Drama DVD
One of Bow’s later films and a strong dramatic showcase, filled with the energy, vulnerability, and rebellious spirit that made her famous.
50 Silent Film Classics – Leading Ladies of Silent Cinema
A celebration of silent cinema’s greatest women, featuring multiple Clara Bow films along with other legendary leading ladies of the era.
Essential Silent Film Collection – 50 Movies
Explore a wider journey through silent film history, including Clara Bow and other stars who helped shape the movies before Hollywood ever learned to talk.
Clara Bow may have been called the original “It Girl,” but her films show there was far more to her than a nickname. Nearly a century later, the camera still seems to light up whenever she appears.