William Haines was a Virginia native, Hollywood’s first openly gay movie star, and a popular interior designer. Learn more about his inspiring life.
The Golden Age of Hollywood served as the backdrop for numerous tales of scandal, intrigue, and history-making firsts. Throughout this period—the 1920s through 1960—actors who were successful during the silent film era transformed into bona fide movie stars with the advent of talkies, or movies that included sound. It was during this transition into the world of noise that actors were able to finely hone their craft and deliver performances that would cement their legacies in La La Land. In 1922, the first colorized feature film was made, “The Toll of the Sea,” starring the first Chinese American movie star, Anna May Wong. From there, a series of groundbreaking moments unfolded, though there’s one in particular we’ll be focusing on in this story.
In 1933, amid growing restrictions outlined in the infamous Hays Code (more on that later), studio heads were cracking down on what their contracted actors could and could not do in their personal lives. Virginia’s own William Haines, who had been a popular silent film star and was struggling to find purchase in the realm of talkies, was one of numerous individuals whose private affairs were called into question when the Hays Code was being strictly enforced.
Haines was openly gay and had been throughout most of his life. It was a fact he didn’t try to hide, and when MGM’s studio chief Louis B. Mayer called Haines into his office one day to try to persuade Haines into entering a lavender marriage to save Haines’s career, the Staunton native refused. He reportedly told Mayer, “I’m already married,” because, well, he was. Haines had been with his longtime partner, Jimmie Shields, since 1926, and was unwilling to forsake his relationship in order to save his career.
During a time when homosexuality was taboo, Haines lived with a sense of pride about who he was and who he loved. He was Hollywood’s first openly gay movie star, and he went on to become one of the most in-demand interior designers following his break with MGM. But before he captured the hearts of Americans through his on-screen personas and his off-screen wit, Haines was a young man growing up in a conservative town who desperately yearned to create a life for himself that was free, prosperous, and enriching. By many accounts, his family accepted his sexual orientation, a rare luxury for people back then and, unfortunately, still to this day. He first sought freedom in Richmond and Hopewell, then moved to New York City and eventually to Los Angeles.
As he continuously challenged and remade himself, one thing about Haines always remained the same: He was unwilling to live in shame, and chose instead to celebrate every aspect of his personality. In sharing his story, we hope to continue that celebration in our own small way.
Haines’s early life in Virginia, New York, and California
Charles William Haines was born in Staunton, Virginia, on January 2, 1900, to Laura Virginia Haines and George Adam Haines. His father made cigars for a living, and his mother was a dressmaker. Two of William’s older siblings died when they were infants. After his birth, his parents went on to have four more children—his sisters Lillian and Ann, and his brothers George Jr. and Henry.
According to Hollywood Crime Scene, William was reportedly close with his mother, and he fell in love with fashion and design through watching her work. It was also during his Virginia upbringing that he first developed an interest in films, as he would frequent nearby theaters to catch the latest silent movies. When he turned 14, he decided that he’d had enough of the conservative-minded small town where he was being raised, and he ran off to Richmond with a young man who he had introduced to his family as his boyfriend.
William and his companion (who has not been publicly identified) quickly moved from Richmond to Hopewell, where they first worked at a DuPont factory before opening their own dance hall. William’s biographer, William Mann Jr., notes that “dance hall” was often used as a code for “brothel” back in the 1900s. Regardless of what business William and his boyfriend had in Hopewell, the two were successful in their endeavors, and William sent money home to his family in Staunton to help support them.
In 1915, much of the city was destroyed during the Hopewell Fire, so William set his sights on New York. He moved by himself to Greenwich Village in 1919—it’s unclear what happened between him and his boyfriend, or what his boyfriend did following the Hopewell Fire—and it was actually a moment of fate that led William to leave New York City for Los Angeles.
In 1922, while he was working as a model and Wall Street office boy, Haines won a contest run by Goldwyn Pictures (the precursor to MGM) titled “New Faces.” After a talent scout declared him the winner, Haines moved out to Los Angeles to sign a contract with MGM that would earn him $40 per week. In today’s money/adjusting for inflation, that would be about $770 a week, which is quite the impressive chunk of change.
Haines was only offered smaller parts in his first film appearances, but in 1926, his life and career changed forever with the premiere of “Brown of Harvard,” in which he played the starring role. He was launched into superstardom, and in 1927, he earned the coveted right of having his name appear above the movie’s title on promotional posters—an honor that was only offered to Haines and six other MGM actors at the time. In 1930, he became Hollywood’s biggest box office earner, as he starred in over 50 silent films throughout this stretch. He was in the process of earnestly transitioning into talkies when his career was unfortunately dealt a fatal blow by the Hays Code.
Relationship with Jimmie Shields and introduction of the Hays Code
Before we dive into the Hays Code and how it impacted the way movies were made for decades, let’s take one step back to 1926, when William Haines’s career was taking off following the premiere of “Brown of Harvard.” While he was visiting New York City, Haines met Jimmie Shields. The two quickly hit it off and fell in love, and Haines invited Shields to move back to Hollywood with him. Shields and Haines would remain together for 47 years until Haines’s death in 1973, and they were commonly referred to as Hollywood’s first openly gay married couple, even though they were not legally allowed to wed.
Now, back to the infamous Hays Code. In 1930, William Hays was the president of the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America. He was unofficially in charge of the movie industry’s morality after several high-profile scandals (including the Fatty Arbuckle sexual assault and manslaughter case) altered people’s perceptions of Hollywood. In an effort to appease audiences and the more conservative tendencies of the time, Hays drafted a Production Code, which is commonly referred to as the Hays Code for the man who authored it. When the censorship tactic was first announced, Hays said, “The code sets up high standards of performance for motion-picture producers. It states the considerations which good taste and community value make necessary in this universal form of entertainment.”
In essence, the rules—which were voluntary at first and then became mandatory a few years later—stated that movies should not “lower the moral standards of those who see it,” and “the sympathy of the audience shall never be thrown to the side of crime, wrongdoing, evil or sin.” And what exactly was “sinful” in the eyes of Will Hays? Well, suggestive dancing, nudity, and “sexual perversion,” AKA homosexuality, and interracial relationships, all of which were outright banned. He deemed acts of violence as somehow less offensive, and those were only restricted, not prohibited. By creating a code that was so obviously influenced by the homophobia, racism, and misogyny present in Hollywood and beyond, Hays inadvertently forced countless movie stars into lives of suppression, where they were forced to hide their true identities in an effort to save their careers.
Many people entered lavender marriages, or marriages of convenience that were designed to hide people’s homosexuality from the public, at the urging of studio heads. For Haines, though, the idea of marrying a woman to cover up his partnership with Shields was ultimately not an option. You Must Remember This reported that he did propose to fellow actor and close friend Anita Page, who was aware of his relationship with Shields, but Page ultimately turned him down. Once this happened, Haines made up his mind to stick to his convictions regardless of whether it would cost him his livelihood. It was an impossible decision he should not have had to make, and the repercussions of the Hays Code were felt far and wide for decades afterward.
It was in 1933 that Haines had his aforementioned conversation with MGM studio head Louis B. Mayer in which Mayer tried to force Haines into marrying a woman to cover up his partnership with Shields. Haines reportedly told Mayer, “I’ll be glad to give him up just as soon as you give up your wife,” after which Mayer tore up Haines’s contract and kicked him off the studio lot. Though the interaction marked the end of the Virginia native’s successful Hollywood endeavor, it also served as the beginning of a new business venture that would prove to be even more fruitful.
Haines became a wildly popular interior designer
Undeterred by his firing—he was quoted as saying, “It’s a rather pleasant feeling of being away from pictures and being part of them because all my friends are. I can see the nice side of them without seeing the ugly side of the studios,”—William Haines dove into pursuing his life’s other great passion: interior design. He completed an array of projects for notable stars like Joan Crawford, Douglas Fairbanks Jr., Frank Sinatra, Carole Lombard, William Powell, and Barbara Stanwyck, for whom he designed dressing rooms and homes. His selections, according to Lisa Eisner, a popular Hollywood designer, were “the most iconic—I don’t know who else compares,” she said during a New York Times interview in 1999.
Haines earned the nickname the “King of Hollywood Regency” for his refined style and taste. Christie’s, the world-renowned auction house, had this to say about Haines and his eye for interior design: “Haines’s genius was to look beyond the dark, Spanish-influenced, neo-colonial interiors that were typical of the silent-movie era, and to introduce a lighter, prettier look based on 18th-century English manor houses in its place. The aesthetic proved popular and was quickly adopted by major film industry players such as director George Cukor and studio boss Jack Warner, among many others.” The organization added, “Key Hollywood Regency ingredients included hand-painted, restored or specially commissioned Chinese floral wallpapers, fine English furniture such as Chippendale chairs of the George III era, and chinoiserie, such as George Cukor’s wall-mounted aquarium in a chinoiserie frame.”
He maintained this lucrative enterprise until the 1970s, when he developed lung cancer, which he subsequently died of in 1973.
Haines and Shields died within months of each other
William Haines died at the age of 73 at Santa Monica’s St. John’s Hospital on December 26, 1973. Jimmie Shields, bereft at the loss of his partner of 47 years, died by suicide three months later. Shields wrote that he was struggling to find comfort after Haines died, and that he found it increasingly difficult to be alone. The two were buried side by side at Woodlawn Memorial Cemetery in Santa Monica.
William Haines’s name isn’t spoken as often now as it was even 30 years ago, but in taking the time to read this story, you’ve given life to his memory once again. He was many things to many people—a son, partner, friend, colleague, movie star, designer, wisecracker, and pioneer. He lived as an openly gay man during a period when both society and Hollywood wanted people to pretend that homosexuality didn’t exist.
Haines’s dedication to remaining true to himself, and to the man he loved, is a true testament of bravery and courage. May we all find inspiration from this Virginian who refused to make himself smaller for someone else’s benefit.
