In the 1980s how did you know a book was huge? Mini-series! And what could be more made of awesome than a Jackie Collins novel turned mini-series Hollywood Wives? The actual book itself because no matter how talented Candice Bergen is, the Elaine Conti (long suffering wife of fading movie star Ross Conti) is not an elegant second generation Hollywood royalty blonde beauty. And Angie Dickinson as Sadie La Salle? On what planet was the lush 1980s Angie Dickinson a plain, short woman with flashing dark hair and liquid black eyes? And the final nail in the coffin of the could have been, should have been awesome of the Hollywood Wives minseries, no sane network could put the full, no holds barred story on television. Sure now in the 2010s, Hollywood Wives could be put on HBO or Showtime with nary a bink, but back in the 1980s? No way!

And what makes Hollywood Wives classic, in the Jackie Collins canon? Hmm, let’s see. It was the spark that spawned Hollywood Husbands, Hollywood Kids, Hollywood Wives: The New Generation and Hollywood Divorces. It’s a perfect glimpse into a world of glamor, power and celebrity that we’ve lost in our Internet age. It’s Beverly Hills, Rolls Royces and champagne. And there’s a fading movie star with a winkie so huge that even Tigger would be all shy. (Yes I said winkie! I could have said “jingle and the bits”, “meat and two veg”, “trouser snake”, etc…deal with it!). And his Hollywood royalty piece on the side Karen Lancaster who freaky nipples (according to the book huge, brown, like radio dials) still creep me out over 25 years after I first picked up the paperback as a very young Gwen at Bradlees. Sure Jackie Collins isn’t Jane Austen but I sure can remember things like Karen Lancaster’s nipples and the Neil Grey/Gina Germaine incident (and it stays “incident”! you want to learn more, you march into Barnes & Noble or Borders and read what happens on page 316 & 317!) better than that whole “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” (that I had to look up at Yahoo! Answers). And that my friends is writing.

Hollywood Wives is Jackie Collins coming out of the 1970s and fully into the 1980s. The worst thing that you can catch from the luscious piece you’ve picked up as you cruise down the road in your Rolls, Maserati or Ferrari? Maybe the clap? But who cares, you’re a star and there’s a doctor who can take care of whatever you need discreet as can be. And if you’re not a star…oh well…

So what about the Jackie Collins usual suspects?

The exotic dark beauty who loves Al Green? One Montana Gray, writer of the could be classic Street People, wife of director Neil Gray. Doesn’t take any bullshit from anyone…

Aging movie star/legendary stud? It’s hard to know what’s bigger, Ross Conti’s fame back in the day or his…um….well….okay I can do this…deep breath…you are a grown-up…WINKIE!

Hot guy on the make? Who is Buddy Hudson? One smoking studmuffin with liquid black eyes, a dangerous walk, an innocent wife and a not so innocent past.

Angelic blonde? Mrs Buddy Hudson aka Angel. So pure and sweet and untouched your teeth will hurt like you’ve eaten a can of frosting (not like I ever did that!)

Slutty blonde? Gina Germaine, a walking, talking blow up doll of a movie star who eats men alive…think I’m joking…HELLO PAGE 316 & 317 my friend!

Washed up Englishman? Director Neil Gray, husband of Montana Gray. Played by Ciaran Hinds or Alan Rickman in my head.

Big Party? Shoplifting Elaine and cheating on Elaine with her best friend Ross Conti’s bash for the Lancasters. Oh things go do my friends. Things GO DOWN! There’s fights, a director caught with his pants down but not in the way you’re thinking!, reunions, exposures and more drugs and champagne then you can shake a stick at. People would kill and have screwed anyone to get to this party.

Damaged individual? Let’s face it. Just about every character is this book has some deep dark secret except for boring Angel Hudson. A little being groped by her landlady Daphne on a Hawaiian vacation is nothing compared to the things that oh her husband Buddy (coughcoughrentboypartyboyfortheladiesonlycoughcough) or Bibi Sutton (coughcoughfrenchcallgirlwhosnaggedheramoviestarcoughcough) or Sadie La Salle (coughcoughrosscontibabymamacoughcough) have endured. But the winner of the damaged individual award is one Deke Andrews. And oh man…he was chilling over 25 years ago and he’s still chilling even in our beyond jaded to violence times.

Sex? Excuse me? Do I EVEN HAVE TO ANSWER THIS? IT’S A JACKIE COLLINS NOVEL. PEOPLE NOT HAVING S-E-X IS SHOCKING.

Druge? See above. Switch out s-e-x for drugs and/booze.

Scandal? Cut me a break! Okay okay okay…how about cheating spouses, on the ho stroll, pictures that belong in Hustler and videos that Vivid Video would kill to release, drugs, murder, and shoplifting…is that exciting enough for you?

So crank up that charge card, pop open the champagne, lay out a rail or seventeen of cocaine, get some girls from room service and party. Or if you’re me, crack out the diet ginger ale, snatch your bag of Hershey Kisses from the freezer, curl up on Mr Couch and enter a time machine set for HOLLYWOOD circa 1983. Either way enjoy the ride!