She laughed when she said it: “Will you do my makeup when I die?” Even her close friend and makeup artist Allan “Whitey” Snyder thought it was just a flirtatious joke from Marilyn Monroe. But Hollywood rarely jokes with fate. In 1962, when Marilyn was found dead, it was he who fulfilled her last “request” — he did her makeup, turning the actress into a radiant icon even on her deathbed. They say Snyder cried as he applied her lipstick, and her lips looked as alive as they did in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. The irony is that after the funeral, he received an offer from the studios to become “Hollywood’s chief makeup artist,” but he declined. He claimed: “I have already made up the most important face of my life.” Snyder was not only a makeup artist, but also the only person entrusted with creating the posthumous image of two legends at once — Marilyn Monroe and Rita Hayworth.
Marilyn Monroe was known for her beauty, her charisma, and her tragic vulnerability. But behind the glamour was a quiet friendship—one built not on fame, but on trust. Her makeup artist, Allan “Whitey” Snyder, had been with her since the beginning. He knew her face better than anyone. And he knew her fears.
One day, with a playful laugh, Marilyn asked him, “Will you do my makeup when I die?” Snyder chuckled, brushing it off as one of her dramatic jokes. But Monroe wasn’t joking. She was asking for dignity.
In August 1962, Marilyn Monroe was found dead in her Los Angeles home. The world mourned. And Snyder was called—not for a film shoot, but for a final act of devotion.
He arrived at the mortuary and fulfilled her last request. With trembling hands and tears in his eyes, he applied her makeup. Her lips, he said, looked as alive as they did in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. It wasn’t just cosmetics—it was a tribute. A way to preserve her image, her grace, her legacy.
After the funeral, Snyder was offered a prestigious title: Hollywood’s chief makeup artist. He declined. “I have already made up the most important face of my life,” he said.
Snyder wasn’t just a technician. He was a guardian of memory. He was also entrusted with the posthumous presentation of Rita Hayworth, another icon of the silver screen. Two legends. One artist. One heart.
His story reminds us that behind every star is someone who sees them without the spotlight. Someone who holds their secrets, their sadness, and their humanity.
Snyder’s final brushstroke wasn’t for fame—it was for love.
