Let's get this straight from the jump: Mercedes de Acosta fucked. She didn't just fuck—she bedded the most beautiful, talented, and famously untouchable women in the world during Hollywood's Golden Age. While studio executives were busy crafting fake heterosexual romances for their stars and America was pretending queer people didn't exist, this audacious Spanish-American poet, playwright, and costume designer was busy seducing Greta Garbo, Marlene Dietrich, Isadora Duncan, Eva Le Gallienne, and a goddamn constellation of other luminaries who fell under her spell.
Born in 1893 to wealthy Spanish aristocrats in New York City, Mercedes wasn't just ahead of her time—she existed in a reality entirely of her own making. In an era when most lesbians lived in terrified secrecy, she strutted through life in men's clothing, openly pursued the women she desired, and kept hundreds of their love letters as trophies. When asked about her sexuality, she famously remarked: "I can get any woman away from any man." Not exactly subtle, was she?
But Hollywood history has done its damnedest to erase her. Why? Because Mercedes de Acosta refused to play by the rules of discretion that protected the film industry's carefully constructed images. She not only lived her truth—she documented it, preserved it, and eventually published it, forcing America to confront the reality that their screen goddesses weren't all straight, wholesome role models after all.
"I Can Get Any Woman Away From Any Man": The Conqueror of Hollywood Icons
Mercedes de Acosta wasn't conventionally beautiful—but holy shit, did she have game. Standing 5'4" with sharp features and an athletic build, she cultivated a distinctive androgynous style decades before it was acceptable. She wore men's suits tailored to her frame, slicked back her dark hair, and carried herself with the swaggering confidence of someone who knew precisely what she wanted and how to get it.
"There was something magnetic about Mercedes," recalled director George Cukor. "She wasn't beautiful in the traditional sense, but she had this hypnotic quality. When she focused her attention on you, it felt like nothing else in the world existed."
This magnetic quality helped her seduce an absolutely staggering roster of famous women. We're not talking about minor celebrities here—we're talking about the biggest fucking stars of the era:
Greta Garbo, the notoriously reclusive Swedish goddess who famously "wanted to be alone"—except, apparently, when Mercedes called. Their intense relationship lasted on and off for nearly thirty years, with Garbo sending de Acosta over 100 letters and telegrams, some addressing her as "my dear one" and signing off "I miss you."
Marlene Dietrich, the sultry German star known for her sexual ambiguity, fell hard for Mercedes in the 1930s. Their affair was passionate and tumultuous, with Dietrich writing fevered notes like: "I can't wait to be in your arms again. The nights without you are unbearable."
Isadora Duncan, the revolutionary modern dancer, became infatuated with de Acosta after meeting her at a party. They traveled together through Europe, with Duncan claiming Mercedes had "the most beautiful hands I have ever seen."
Actress Eva Le Gallienne had such an intense relationship with Mercedes that when it ended, she suffered a nervous breakdown. Tallulah Bankhead, Alla Nazimova, Katharine Cornell, and Ona Munson—all successful actresses—also succumbed to Mercedes' charms.
What made her so irresistible? By all accounts, it wasn't just sexual magnetism (though she clearly had that in spades). Mercedes offered these closeted stars something precious: complete acceptance and understanding. In an industry that forced them to hide their true selves, Mercedes represented freedom. She didn't just want to sleep with these women—she wanted to know them, to celebrate them, to help them embrace parts of themselves that Hollywood demanded they suppress.
"Mercedes made me feel seen in a way no one else ever had," one actress (who remained anonymous even decades later) confessed to a biographer. "In her eyes, the thing the studios told me to hide became my most beautiful quality."
The Garbo Obsession: "I Was Yours From the Moment I Saw You"
Of all Mercedes' conquests, none was more significant—or more career-defining—than her decades-long relationship with the enigmatic Greta Garbo. Their connection began in 1931 when Mercedes spotted Garbo in a car on a Hollywood street and literally chased the vehicle down. Most people would have received a restraining order for such behavior, but Mercedes got a dinner invitation instead.
What followed was a complex relationship that defied simple categorization. Were they lovers? Unquestionably, at various points. Were they also friends, confidantes, and spiritual seekers? Absolutely. Their bond evolved over three decades, with passionate periods followed by long separations, only to reignite when they reconnected.
In her controversial memoir "Here Lies the Heart," Mercedes described their first meeting:
"It was as if we had known each other forever. The first time I spoke to Garbo, I asked her how old she was. '17 and 3/4,' she answered. 'I asked to see your movies when I was 17 and 3/4,' I said. We both laughed, but somehow, it was as if destiny had brought us together."
Garbo, famously private and enigmatic, let her guard down with Mercedes in ways she rarely did with others. They took extended trips together to Silver Lake and hiked in remote areas where Garbo could escape the public eye. In letters, Garbo called Mercedes "my bird" and signed off with phrases like "I miss you" and "wish you were here."
What made their relationship so enduring—and so volatile—was that Mercedes couldn't seem to distinguish between loving Garbo and possessing her. She collected Garbo's letters, photographs, and personal items with an obsessive fervor that eventually contributed to their final fallout.
"Mercedes didn't just love Garbo—she worshipped her," explained biographer Hugo Vickers. "And while Garbo needed Mercedes' unwavering adoration, she also resented being made into an idol."
The relationship reached a breaking point after Mercedes published her memoir in 1960, which—while not explicitly detailing sexual relationships—made it clear that they had shared profound intimacy. Garbo, who had spent a lifetime protecting her privacy, never spoke to Mercedes again.
Dietrich and Beyond: "Too Much Woman for Anyone"
If Mercedes' relationship with Garbo was characterized by spiritual connection and possessive adoration, her affair with Marlene Dietrich was pure fucking fire. These two strong-willed, sexually confident women created sparks that practically burned down Hollywood in the mid-1930s.
Unlike the ethereal, elusive Garbo, Dietrich wore her sexual ambiguity as part of her allure. She had affairs with men and women both before and during her marriage. When she met Mercedes at a party in 1932, the chemistry was immediate and explosive.
"Mercedes and Marlene together was like watching two expert fencers," recalled a producer who knew them both. "Each constantly trying to gain the upper hand, each enjoying the battle immensely."
Their affair burned hot but relatively briefly. Dietrich, who compartmentalized her lovers with surgical precision, eventually relegated Mercedes to the category of "former conquest." Mercedes, however, kept every letter, every photograph, every telegram—her obsessive record-keeping becoming both her signature and eventually her downfall.
What's remarkable isn't just the list of famous women Mercedes bedded—it's how openly she lived her life during an era when such honesty could destroy careers. While her lovers maintained careful public personas, Mercedes dressed in men's clothing, spoke frankly about her attractions, and made little effort to hide her relationships.
"Mercedes was too much woman for anyone to handle," director Dorothy Arzner (herself a lesbian) once remarked. "She didn't give a damn what society thought. In another era, she'd have been burned as a witch. In Hollywood, she was both feared and secretly admired."
Beyond the Bedroom: The Artist They Tried to Erase
Here's where we need to set the record straight: Mercedes de Acosta wasn't just a legendary lesbian lothario. She was a legitimate artist—a poet, playwright, costume designer, and novelist whose work has been systematically erased because history decided to define her solely by her sexual conquests.
Before she ever set foot in Hollywood, Mercedes had established herself in New York literary circles. She published three volumes of poetry, had several plays produced on Broadway, and wrote two novels. Her literary salon in New York attracted luminaries like Gertrude Stein, Alice B. Toklas, and Ernest Hemingway.
Her costume designs showed genuine innovation, particularly her work for Ina Claire and Ona Munson. She wrote screenplays that, while never produced due to their controversial subject matter, demonstrated genuine talent. Her play "Jacob Slovak" received serious critical attention, with the New York Times praising its "burning sincerity."
Yet today, when Mercedes is remembered at all, it's almost exclusively as "the woman who slept with Garbo and Dietrich." This reduction of a complex creative person to merely her sexual conquests is not just misogynistic—it's a deliberate erasure of the artistic contributions of a queer woman who refused to be silenced.
"They couldn't handle that Mercedes was both openly homosexual and genuinely talented," argues cultural historian Lillian Faderman. "It was easier to dismiss her as a predatory lesbian than to grapple with her artistic legacy."
Mercedes understood this reduction even in her lifetime. In a bitter letter to a friend in the 1950s, she wrote: "They will remember who was in my bed but forget what was in my books. Such is the price women pay for honesty about desire."
The Price of Truth: From Celebrity to Poverty
Mercedes' refusal to live in the closet—and her insistence on documenting her relationships—eventually cost her everything. By the 1950s, as McCarthyism swept America and homosexuality was increasingly viewed as not just immoral but a national security threat, Mercedes found herself essentially blacklisted from Hollywood.
Former friends stopped taking her calls. Job opportunities dried up. The women who had once shared her bed now crossed the street to avoid being seen with her. While actresses who maintained plausible deniability about their sexuality continued to work, Mercedes—who had always been too proud, too honest, and too fearless to hide—found herself isolated and increasingly impoverished.
By the late 1950s, she was nearly destitute. The woman who had once lived in luxury, traveled the world, and moved through the highest circles of artistic society was reduced to selling her possessions to pay rent on a small apartment in New York.
In this desperate situation, she made the decision that would permanently rupture many of her remaining relationships: publishing her memoir "Here Lies the Heart" in 1960. Though tame by today's standards—there are no explicit descriptions of sex, and she never directly "outs" anyone—the book made clear the nature of her relationships with women like Garbo, Nazimova, and Duncan.
The backlash was swift and brutal. Garbo never spoke to her again. Other former lovers publicly denied their relationships. Critics dismissed the book as the delusional fantasies of an aging lesbian.
"I told the truth, and for this, I am being punished," she wrote to her sister Rita. "But what good is a life lived in shadows? I would rather be poor and honest than wealthy and a liar."
"I Want History to Know We Existed": The Ultimate Act of Resistance
The final chapter of Mercedes' life reveals perhaps her most radical act of resistance. As her health failed and her financial situation became increasingly dire, Mercedes received offers from collectors and archivists to purchase her extensive collection of letters, photographs, and memorabilia from her relationships with Garbo, Dietrich, and others.
She could have solved her financial problems instantly by selling these materials to private collectors who would have buried them to protect the reputations of the stars involved. Instead, in 1960, she donated over 2,000 items—including 55 letters from Garbo—to the Rosenbach Museum and Library in Philadelphia, with the stipulation that they be sealed until ten years after her death.
"I want history to know we existed," she explained in a letter accompanying the donation. "These women were not just great artists—they loved and desired and lived full lives that included relationships with other women. The world should know this truth."
When Mercedes died in 1968, impoverished and largely forgotten, few realized that she had planted a time bomb set to explode and challenge Hollywood's carefully constructed heterosexual mythology. When her collection was opened to researchers in 1978, it provided irrefutable evidence of the queer relationships that had existed amid the glamour of old Hollywood.
"What Mercedes did was ensure that these women couldn't be straight-washed by history," explains film historian Robert Aldrich. "She knew exactly what she was doing—creating an archive that would make erasure impossible."
Beyond the Scandal: Understanding Mercedes' Real Legacy
It's easy to sensationalize Mercedes de Acosta as simply a lesbian Don Juan who collected famous conquests like trophies. But that narrative—which has dominated most discussions of her life—misses the radical nature of her existence and her work.
In her poetry, plays, and prose, Mercedes consistently explored themes of spiritual seeking, female power, and the transcendence of social constraints. Her 1937 novel "Wind Chaff" features a thinly veiled portrait of a Garbo-like character seeking meaning beyond fame. Her play "Jehanne d'Arc" reimagines Joan of Arc as a feminist revolutionary rather than a religious martyr.
Throughout her work runs a consistent theme: women claiming power, defying expectations, and seeking spiritual and sexual fulfillment on their own terms. She wasn't just living radically—she was creating art that envisioned radical possibilities for women.
"Mercedes wasn't just ahead of her time in how she lived—she was trying to write new possibilities into existence," argues literary scholar Catherine Hollis. "Her work imagines women's lives without the constraints of compulsory heterosexuality decades before such ideas entered mainstream feminist thought."
This aspect of her legacy—her artistic vision of female liberation—has been almost entirely obscured by the focus on her sexual conquests. Yet it may be her most significant contribution.
Rewriting the Narrative: "I Loved Magnificently"
Near the end of her life, broke and forgotten, Mercedes reflected on her extraordinary journey in a letter to a friend:
"They will say I was a predator, a collector of famous women. But I loved—magnificently, wholly, with every fiber of my being. I loved women when the world said such love was impossible or shameful. I saw the divine in Garbo, the fire in Dietrich, the genius in Duncan, and I worshiped at these altars not just with my body but with my soul. If that is my sin, I die unrepentant."
The tragedy of Mercedes' legacy is not just that she died in poverty while many of her former lovers renounced her to protect their reputations. It's that her story has been reduced to lurid gossip rather than recognized for what it truly was: a radical act of resistance against a culture determined to deny the existence of queer love.
In an era when LGBTQ+ history is under renewed attack, when books about queer lives are being banned from libraries, when right-wing politicians claim that acknowledging LGBTQ+ existence is "grooming," Mercedes de Acosta's insistence on documenting and preserving her relationships takes on new significance.
She understood what many still fail to grasp today: that visibility matters, that history can only erase what isn't documented, and that telling the truth—even at tremendous personal cost—is an act of revolution.
"I Regret Nothing": Why Mercedes Matters Now More Than Ever
In the last letter she wrote before her death, Mercedes reflected: "I regret nothing. Not the loves, not the losses, not the poverty, not the scandal. I lived while others merely existed. What greater victory could there be?"
As contemporary LGBTQ+ people fight for the right to exist openly and honestly, Mercedes de Acosta's life offers both inspiration and warning. She paid a devastating price for her refusal to hide, for her insistence on documenting queer love in an era that demanded silence. Yet that same refusal ensures that her story—and the stories of the women she loved—cannot be erased from history.
The next time someone claims that LGBTQ+ people are a modern phenomenon or that Hollywood's Golden Age was a bastion of traditional values, remember Mercedes de Acosta—the woman who loved Garbo and Dietrich, who dressed as she pleased, who loved without apology, and who made damn sure that history would have to acknowledge the truth.
In her defiance, her artistry, her passion, and her determination to preserve the reality of queer love against all odds, Mercedes de Acosta didn't just live ahead of her time—she created a blueprint for resistance that remains relevant today.
"They wanted me to disappear," she wrote in her final unfinished poem. "Instead, I became immortal."
References
Schanke, R. A. (2003). "That Furious Lesbian": The Story of Mercedes de Acosta.
Vickers, H. (1994). Loving Garbo: The Story of Greta Garbo, Cecil Beaton, and Mercedes de Acosta.
De Acosta, M. (1960). Here Lies the Heart: An Autobiography.
Faderman, L. (1991). Odd Girls and Twilight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth-Century America.
McLellan, D. (2000). The Girls: Sappho Goes to Hollywood.
Swenson, K. (1997). Greta Garbo: A Life Apart.
The Mercedes de Acosta Collection, Rosenbach Museum and Library, Philadelphia.
Bach, S. (2011). Marlene Dietrich: Life and Legend.
Stern, K. (2009). Queers in History: The Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Historical Gays, Lesbians and Bisexuals.
Another one that I had never heard of before. Similar to her story I believe they are out to erase our history again along with eradicating us too.
More than “like “ this piece. It is a pure and simple triumph on many levels of evaluation. Congratulations. And regards.