DOLLY PARTON, 1946-2026
Dolly Parton was good at everything.
Singing, of course. Guitar-playing? You bet. Songwriting? She figured she wrote more than 3000.
She was also a successful actress, a brilliant businessperson, and a global philanthropist.
But what she was truly great at was being a star.
That’s a different job than being an entertainer, or even a celebrity. Being a star — a genuine, old-fashioned, shining icon — requires projecting an image, 24/7. It means having an immediately recognizable, public persona — but one so rooted in your own personality that it never feels fake, or forced.
And it means always still being honest with yourself and your fans — while carefully keeping some things private, for yourself.
People were genuinely shocked when Parton died recently, at 80 — although there had been a few vague stories of health problems, and cancelled appearances, she never revealed how sick she was. But then Dolly wasn’t one to overshare. Appearing on the cover of People, or in a TikTok clip, to detail a health crisis, or personal struggle? Not her style, darlin’.
She protected her secrets and, in a way, she protected her fans, too. She knew what people needed to know, and what they didn’t.
Just what did she think about Donald Trump — or Kamala Harris, for that matter? What were her feelings on the war in Ukraine, or in Iran? Or about global warming, or Democratic Socialism, or Mideast violence and a possible path to peace?
I have no idea, and that’s just the way she wanted it.
Which isn’t to say that she didn’t care deeply about the struggles of the poor, or working families, or gay people, or women. She didn’t need to give speeches for her feelings to be known or her allyship to be present, in her work and how she lived.
Dolly Parton in the 1980 movie, “9 to 5.”
Listen to the songs she wrote, like “9 to 5,” or covered, like Woody Guthrie’s “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos).” Read the lyrics she sang, about male chauvinism and sexual double standards. Remember her true support of, and comfort around, her gay fans (she once quietly entered a “Dolly Parton look-alike contest” — and genuinely loved it when she lost to a drag queen).
And marvel at how her Dollywood theme park not only provided thousands of jobs in Tennessee, but made sure they were truly good jobs, paying double the state’s minimum wage and providing a host of benefits from health care to college tuition — to every employee, from day one. How she personally funded research to develop the COVID vaccine, and got hundreds of millions of free books into the hands of children.
She wasn’t loud about her convictions. She simply lived them.
Of course, her approach isn’t the only one. Many people, once they become famous, realize that they have a platform — one that they can use to advance personal causes. Robert Redford promoted environmentalism, and independent filmmaking. Gary Sinise has worked tirelessly on behalf of veterans.
And of course, other stars have taken on more controversial issues, showing up on picket lines and protests, aligning themselves with various you’re-either-with-us-or-against-us issues. Becoming famous doesn’t mean you give up the right to have an opinion — although it doesn’t mean your opinion is more right than anyone else’s.
Dolly, however, felt that her real platform was the stage, and her true talent was using it to bring people together. She was enormously generous when it came to actual charities. She was happy to endorse acceptance, kindness, generosity. But she had no interest in endorsing political parties, or candidates.
Dolly Parton on the cover of her 1974 album, “Jolene.”
Nor in accepting awards, just to bolster her own ego. She turned down two Presidential Medals of Freedom when offered by Trump — and then, just to avoid partiality, turned down another one when offered by Biden. When she was nominated for The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2022, she begged off, saying she hadn’t earned it. (The Hall kept her on the ballot and she was voted in, anyway.)
But her refusal to campaign for prizes didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate them, or love walking the red carpets that often led to them. She understood that was all part of the job of being a star, and she labored at every part of it.
She knew that “Dolly Parton” wasn’t just a person, but a character, and that came with a uniform — big blonde wigs, dangerously high heels, and every inch in between bejeweled and bedazzled. That was what fans expected, and like an old-time star from Hollywood’s golden age, Dolly was determined to give it to them.
The paparazzi might snap photos of younger singers in yoga pants and flip-flops, toting around a take-out coffee. Never Dolly. Pose for one of those “Stars Without Makeup” magazine spreads? Are you out of your ever-lovin’ mind? (She did, very rarely, go out dressed down and unwigged, but only on secret road trips with her husband, when she wanted no one to recognize her.)
And while sophisticates might snicker at her style and fashion sense. Dolly didn’t care. She honestly thought it was pretty. And — even more important — she knew that plenty of women, getting by on home perms and sales at Kmart, did, too. Irony — wasn’t that something you did on wash day? Dolly was too genuine for camp, and her fans’ love was genuine, too. Yet unlike some stars, she never turned into a diva, ordering underlings around, snapping at co-workers, forgetting where she came from.
Dolly Parton in the 1989 movie “Steel Magnolias.”
As hard as she worked for what she had, she never took it for granted, or counted herself as anything but lucky. Once, on the set of “Steel Magnolias,” co-star Julia Roberts complained about the heat, and wondered why Dolly wasn’t whining, too, like the rest of the cast.
“When I was a little girl, I wanted to be famous and I wanted to be rich, and now I’m both those things,” Parton told her. “I’m not going to complain about it.”
It is easy to say that Dolly Parton’s greatest work of art was Dolly Parton, but that implies it was a character she played, a disguise she slipped on and off, or changed according to the era. But Parton wasn’t like Madonna, or David Bowie. She wasn’t like anyone else. She was just … who she was. And brave enough to be just that.
We should all be so real.
____________________________
CONTRIBUTE TO NJARTS.NET
Since launching in September 2014, NJArts.net, a 501(c)(3) organization, has become one of the most important media outlets for the Garden State arts scene. And it has always offered its content without a subscription fee, or a paywall. Its continued existence depends on support from members of that scene, and the state’s arts lovers. Please consider making a contribution of any amount to NJArts.net via PayPal, or by sending a check made out to NJArts.net to 11 Skytop Terrace, Montclair, NJ 07043.
