This picture reminds me of when I was 15 and a Sophomore in high school (1981) and proudly brought my just-bought John Lennon solo album "Walls and Bridges" (from 1974) to school to show off to the few friends who were even mildly interested. (Maybe one girlfriend, and several guys who were either Stoners or on the Math Team.) During lunch, when I was excitedly showing off how the album art had strips that flipped over to show different views of Lennon's face, a 2nd-tier "popular girl" walked by my table and said, "How immature. You need to get a REAL boyfriend." That was initially deflating. In her eyes, being excited about a work of art was trivial and suspicious. Instead of admiring a 15-year-old boy from our school, I was admiring an older, far-away person's representation of himself via his music and accompanying album art and finding that art and vibe far superior and far more meaningful to ME.
Over 30 years later, I'm apparently still as "immature." I am deeply moved by both Joan Crawford's image and her art. Moreso than by the thought that I need to "get a REAL girlfriend." When someone in real life comes along on the John Lennon or Joan Crawford level of meaningfulness to me, perhaps I will.