The other day Sasha Stone asked for names of the all-time dishiest actresses. The ones who’ve inspired the most tumescent sexual fantasies, etc.

I’ve always had a thing for sleek blondes. The two most painfully unfulfilled relationships of my life, an achey-breaky high-school flirtation and an anguished sexual affair with a married People magazine co-worker, were with blondes. There was another hurting affair with a blonde filmmaker in ’12. So I didn’t hesitate in saying that Camilla Sparv (Downhill Racer, Dead Heat on a Merry Go-round, Mackenna’s Gold, The Greek Tycoon) was at the top of my list.

Sparv and the young Grace Kelly share the top slot, pretty much. Along with the young Ingrid Berman, Kim Novak in Vertigo and I-don’t-know-who-else. Elke Sommer in The Prize?

Still with us at age 81, Sparv landed only one truly interesting role — the delectable but elusive Carole (Robert Redford‘s Dave Chappellet falls for her but she eventually dumps him) in Michael Ritchie‘s Downhill Racer (’69).

In my humble opinion the young Sparv (26 when she made the Ritchie film) had the sparkliest eyes and most beautiful mouth…slightly upturned, tempting, exquisite.

I guess I’ve alays felt a vague kinship with Sparv because she was married in the mid ’60s to Robert Evans, whom I was on friendly terms with in ’94, ’95 and ’96.

Evans’ description in “The Kid Stays in the Picture“: “Her name was Camilla Sparv. The moment she arrived in New York, she was a star model. A tall, leggy blonde, she had a natural patrician quality money can’t buy.”