Though Bette didn’t do too badly herself, winning two Academy Awards in the course of her career.But it was in 1962 that their rivalry reached a crescendo, when the pair were signed up to appear on screen together for the first time. A chilling story about two former film stars living a lonely existence in their Hollywood mansion, the film saw pasty faced Bette tormenting the bedridden Joan like a hepped up Barbara Cartland.Bette starred alongside Franchot in the 1935 film , a part for which she won her first Academy Award.

Since the earliest days of mass media and technology, people have been finding ways to broadcast their desires and find connections that might have otherwise eluded them.

I mean, one could argue that even Voyager 1's Golden Record is kind of a massive, interstellar personal ad (complete with the recorded sound of a kiss! It's as if humanity decided to document all our best features and send them into space with this message: So dating apps are really the latest manifestation of human beings doing what we've always done -- create new tools to communicate and then turn around and use those tools to find love, sex and companionship.

Whether it was the nudity or the possibility of free tanning sessions, Franchot was hooked and Joan made sure Bette knew about it. They met each day for lunch…he would return to the set, his face covered in lipstick…He was honoured this great star was in love with him.

I was jealous of course.” With deliberate tactlessness Franchot and Joan (pictured right) proudly announced their engagement. The love affair might have bitten the dust but the animosity created would last a lifetime more.

But these hyperbolic pronouncements miss a deeper fact: At its core, "online dating" isn't something we just started doing 5, 10 or even 20 years ago.

Before the Internet, there were personal ads, and before that, lonely shepherds carved detailed works of art into tree bark to communicate their longing for human contact.

She called all the other actresses nominees offering to accept their awards on the night if they won. ” and Crawford coolly stepped forward to rapturous applause. The tragedy did nothing to diminish Davis’ acid tongue; “You should never say bad things about the dead, only good…Joan Crawford is dead..

Strangely they agreed and so, when Oscar night rolled around, Davis and Crawford found themselves waiting side by side in the wings, with Bette “certain” that the prize was hers. Good.” Hard to believe their mutual loathing could endure for so long, whether it was love rivalry, or mutual insecurity in such a precarious profession, one thing’s for sure, it provided us with some of the campest mud slinging of all time.

Bette looked down on Crawford as a shallow “mannequin” with eyebrows like “African caterpillars” whilst she was a serious, theatre-trained performer.

She also called into question Joan’s reputation with the opposite sex, or as she put it “She slept with every male star at MGM, except Lassie.” Crawford was no kinder “Poor Bette,” she tutted “she looks like she’s never had a happy day, or night, in her life.” In 1943, Crawford, and her eyebrows, left MGM and signed up with Warner Bros, the studio which just happened to be the home of Ms Davis.

Now their professional rivalry was to be cranked up a notch or ten, with both ladies competing for some of the same parts.