Lance Avery Morgan
Considered The Most Beautiful Actress In Her Day, She Defined The Era’s Top Films
In the glittering annals of Hollywood, Houstonian Lois Chiles wasn’t just a beautiful star—she was the blueprint for glamour in the 70s and 80s. Dive into her reel life with our cinephile-in-chief, Lance Avery Morgan, as he unveils her journey from bright-eyed ingénue to the epitome of Bond Girl chic.
Born Lucky
Long before algorithms decided who was famous, there was Lois Chiles—a woman whose face could launch a thousand magazine covers and whose onscreen presence lit up some of the biggest cinematic jewels of the 1970s. Raven-haired, coolly glamorous, and armed with a Texas twang softened by modeling, Chiles had that most elusive of Hollywood traits: the ability to be both relatable and unattainable at once.
From megahits like The Way We Were to Moonraker, Lois Chiles didn’t just act—she floated through the frame like a screen siren reincarnated for the jet-set era. She sparred with Redford, shared eyeliner tips with Barbra, went toe-to-manicured-toe with Bette Davis, and even tangled with Roger Moore’s ever-quipping Bond. If you watched movies in the 70s or flipped through Vogue, Bazaar, or any of the other mega glossies of the time, then odds are, you saw Chiles—perched on yachts, swathed in silk, or fleeing murder in a Nile-side resort.
But her backstory? It’s the kind of Texas-to-Tinseltown tale that would have made even Truman Capote put down his martini and listen.
The Oil Heiress Who Slipped Into Hollywood
Born in Houston and raised in Alice, Texas—a town better known for oil rigs than red carpets—Chiles came from a family where the only drama was boardroom-level. Her uncle, Eddie Chiles, was a big deal in the Texas oil biz and famously launched the “I’m Mad Too, Eddie!” bumper sticker campaign that captured the frustration of gas-guzzling patriots everywhere.
“I grew up in a place with one movie theater that only showed Roy Rogers films,” Chiles once said, as if explaining her cinematic naïveté when she landed in the Bond universe. “When I got the role in Moonraker, I hadn’t even seen a James Bond movie.” Classic Chiles—stunning, understated, and just slightly amused by the circus that unfolded around her.
And how did she snag the coveted Bond Girl gig? Not in an audition room, but on an airplane. Director Lewis Gilbert happened to be seated next to her mid-flight. By landing that seat, she landed the role. Only in Hollywood, kids.
From Glamour Girl To Jet-Set Muse
Her career might read like a casting director’s fever dream. In The Great Gatsby, she floated through East Egg with icy elegance as Jordan Baker. In Coma, she played a doctor caught in a conspiracy deeper than her cheekbones. And in Death on the Nile, she held her own amid a star-studded cast and more costume changes than a Diana Ross concert of the era.
But even before Hollywood noticed, Glamour magazine did. A chance encounter with an editor launched her modeling career straight from the University of Texas in 1965—by way of a cruise ship romance with a Princeton boy she ultimately didn’t marry (thank goodness, or this story may have ended with her running a garden club meeting, not dodging bullets in a Bond film).
Her look—blue eyes like swimming pools and hair that belonged in a Revlon ad spread—graced every major magazine cover of the era. Designers adored her. Photographers chased her. And Hollywood? Well, it just made sense as the next step.
Keeping The Lights On
Like many stars of the analog era, Chiles navigated the tricky shift from cinema grandeur to the small screen’s glittering grit. She joined Dallas (where else?) to romance J.R. Ewing, made guest appearances on Hart to Hart, L.A. Law, and other glossified dramas of the day. She popped up in Broadcast News and Say Anything, proving that if anyone could glide from 70s sleek chic to 80s shoulder pads, it was Chiles.
Along the way, she collected directors like souvenirs—Sydney Pollack, Cameron Crowe, Quentin Tarantino. Name a guy with an Oscar, and chances are, he’s directed her. Or at least wanted to.
Love, Lois Style
With bone structure like that, it’s no surprise her love life had a few headlines of its own. There was a long romance with fellow native Texan Don Henley (yep, that Don Henley), which ended when the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle lost its sparkle. Later came Bill Paley, CBS’s media magnate, whose advanced age made gossip columnists swoon. Ultimately, she married philanthropist Richard Gilder, a man as passionate about history as she was about art. Their love story lasted until his passing in 2010.
Paint, Profess, Repeat
In true Texas fashion, Chiles eventually boomeranged back to her roots. She joined the University of Houston as a professor in 2001—teaching aspiring actors how to command a screen without spilling their cocktail. (We assume.) Her return brought her full circle, from the oil fields of Alice to the halls of academia, with a few champagne flutes and Oscars along the way.
Now, she splits time between Houston and New York, wielding paintbrushes instead of scripts. Her art—primarily portraits of women—features bold colors, thoughtful eyes, and moods that say, “I’ve lived a little.” She took up painting seriously later in life, though rumor has it she’s always sketched, even on the back of scripts and cocktail napkins.
The Woman Who Stayed Fabulous
Today, in her late seventies, Lois Chiles is still the most elegant person in the room—any room. She’s got that kind of beauty that doesn’t age, it just, well, evolves. Whether she’s at a gallery opening, a museum gala, or lunching quietly in River Oaks, Chiles is proof that glamour is an attitude, not a decade.
In an era of overexposure and filters, Lois Chiles remains a rare thing: a woman whose allure came not from trying too hard, but from always seeming like she didn’t have to try at all. That’s not just star power—it’s Texas magic.
