Before the Detroit Tigers hat and the most famous mustache in television history, Tom Selleck was just a guy trying to get a break. A very tall, very handsome guy. But in 1970, he found himself in a situation so weird it sounds like a fever dream or a bad Hollywood urban legend. He was standing in a room with Mae West, a woman who basically invented the "femme fatale" archetype decades before he was born. She was 76. He was 25. And she had some very specific instructions for his anatomy.
It wasn't a romance. Not exactly. But it was the kind of career launch that you just don't see anymore. Most people think Selleck just popped out of nowhere in Magnum, P.I., but his real origin story involves the absolute chaos of a movie called Myra Breckinridge. This wasn't just any movie; it's often cited as one of the worst films ever made. Honestly, though, it gave us one of the greatest "first job" stories in Hollywood history.
The Audition Where She Told Him to Spread His Legs
Imagine being a struggling actor and getting a call for a Mae West movie. At this point, West hadn't made a film in nearly 30 years. She was a legend, a relic of the Golden Age, and she was returning to the screen with a "stable of studs." Selleck was one of them.
The audition wasn't your standard "read these lines" affair. In his 2024 memoir, You Never Know, Selleck describes the encounter vividly. He walked into her space, and the vibe was immediately... legendary. West looked at him—all 6 feet 4 inches of him—and realized they had a logistical problem. She was barely five feet tall.
She told him, "Come here."
Then, she told him to put his hands on her waist.
Then came the kicker. She told him to spread his legs.
Selleck, probably wondering if this was how Hollywood actually worked, complied. By standing in a wide stance, he dropped a few inches in height. West looked at the composition and decided it worked. Just like that, he was cast. He wasn't just an extra; he was "Stud," one of the men hand-picked by Leticia Van Allen (West’s character) to populate her talent agency/bedroom.
Why Myra Breckinridge Was a Beautiful Disaster
You’ve gotta understand the context of Myra Breckinridge. It was based on a Gore Vidal novel about a transgender woman (played by Raquel Welch) who wants to dismantle "traditional manhood." It was subversive, weird, and, according to most critics at the time, completely unwatchable.
The set was a battlefield. You had Raquel Welch, the reigning sex symbol of the 70s, and Mae West, the queen of the 30s. They did not get along. Rumor has it they never even appeared in the same frame because they couldn't stand to be in the same room. West had it in her contract that she was the only one allowed to wear black and white. When Welch showed up in a black and white outfit, the production basically ground to a halt until Welch’s ruffles were dyed a pale blue.
Through all this ego and madness, Selleck was just... there. Observing.
He was starstruck. He’s admitted that while he worked with legends like James Garner later on, West was the one who truly left him rattling. She was a total pro in her own eccentric way. She didn't just play a character; she was Mae West. She had her lines fed to her through a hidden earpiece because she couldn't memorize them anymore, but she delivered them with that iconic, gravelly purr that made everyone forget the tech.
The Seven Inches Joke and the "Sextette" Confusion
There's a famous bit of dialogue in the movie where West looks at a tall guy and asks how tall he is. He says, "Six feet seven inches." She famously replies, "Well, let's forget the six feet and talk about the seven inches."
A lot of people think she was talking to Selleck in that scene. She wasn't. That was actually Roger Herren. Selleck’s role was much more about being part of her entourage—the "Sextonettes" or her "studs." But the association stuck because, well, look at him. He fit the part perfectly.
Some fans also get Myra Breckinridge (1970) mixed up with Sextette (1978). West made one more movie before she passed, and it was even weirder. Selleck wasn't in that one—he was busy doing pilots and commercials by then—but the "Mae West Stud" label followed him through those early years.
What Selleck Learned from a Legend
It’s easy to laugh at a movie that bombed as hard as Myra Breckinridge did. It was a career-killer for some people. But for Selleck, it was a masterclass in screen presence. He saw how West commanded a room even when she was in her late 70s and could barely see.
He also learned about the power of an "image." West never broke character. She knew what the public wanted, and she gave it to them until the very end. Selleck took a bit of that "old school" professionalism with him. He’s always been a guy who respects the craft and the audience, a trait you can trace back to watching those old stars handle themselves on a chaotic set.
People often ask if they had a "thing." No. It was strictly professional, though West clearly had an eye for talent (and aesthetics). She was responsible for him getting the job, which gave him his first real theatrical credit. Without that weird audition where he had to stand like a tripod, who knows if he would’ve had the confidence to keep grinding through the 70s?
Actionable Takeaways from the Selleck-West Connection
- Study the "First Credits": If you’re a film buff, go back and find Selleck in Myra Breckinridge. He’s un-mustachioed and incredibly young. It’s a reminder that everyone starts somewhere, even if that "somewhere" is a movie the author of the book hated.
- Context Matters: When watching 1970s cinema, remember the "Studio System" was dying and the "New Hollywood" was being born. This movie was a messy collision of both.
- Professionalism is Key: Selleck’s takeaway from West wasn't the raunchy jokes; it was her work ethic. Even at 76, she was the first one there and the last to leave, protecting her brand at all costs.
- Check out the Memoir: If you want the full, unfiltered story of Selleck’s early years, You Never Know is actually a great read. It’s less "celebrity gossip" and more "how to survive Hollywood without losing your mind."
The reality of Hollywood is often less about "being discovered" at a soda fountain and more about being willing to spread your legs at an audition because a 76-year-old legend told you to. Selleck did the work, kept his head down, and eventually, the mustache found him.