💖 Set Life Secrets: A Throwback to the B&B Family

The massive, silent soundstages of Television City, usually humming with the electric tension of taping a daily soap opera, sometimes felt more like a cozy, slightly eccentric family home than a workplace. It’s those quiet moments, the ones that never made it onto the screen, that linger the longest. Today, looking back at a grainy photo from years ago—a candid shot of myself wedged between John McCook (Eric) and Katherine Kelly Lang (Brooke) in the backstage green room—a floodgate of warmth and nostalgia opens.

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It wasn’t just working on The Bold and the Beautiful; it was being adopted into the B&B Family.

The days were relentless. A soap opera schedule is notoriously brutal, demanding an impossible amount of lines, emotional pivots, and quick changes. But the shared struggle forged an unbreakable bond. We were all in the trenches together, fueled by bad cafeteria coffee and an abundance of genuine, unforced laughter.

I remember one particular afternoon—a scene that was supposed to be a devastating confrontation between Ridge and Brooke, filmed on the famous Forrester living room set. It was a heavy, dramatic sequence, requiring tears and raised voices. Ridge (played by a phenomenal actor whose commitment was legendary) was supposed to deliver a crushing line about their future. But just as he got to the emotional peak, a stagehand, attempting to sneak a bag of chips, accidentally tripped over a prop table.

The silence that followed was broken not by a director’s shout, but by a collective gasp, followed by an explosion of laughter. Ridge, in character moments before, simply buried his face in his hands, shaking with suppressed giggles. Brooke started weeping—not with sadness, but with uncontrollable mirth. We had to take a full fifteen-minute break to compose ourselves. That moment, that shared, ridiculous burst of human error and laughter, stripped away the artifice of the drama and reminded us we were just a group of people playing dress-up together.

That camaraderie wasn’t limited to the stars. The crew—the lighting technicians, the sound mixers, the wardrobe department, the camera operators—were the backbone, the quiet heroes. I vividly recall a time when my character had a last-minute wardrobe change, requiring a unique, bespoke dress. The head of wardrobe, a tiny woman with boundless energy, stayed up all night, stitching furiously, fueled by nothing but determination and a promise of a morning bagel. When I saw the finished dress, it wasn’t just a costume; it was a garment stitched with love and teamwork.

The green room was the real heart of the family. It was where we shed our on-screen personas. It was where John McCook would regale us with stories from the early days, where the younger cast members would run lines, and where all the deepest, most complex emotional scenes were often discussed and dissected, not with professional coldness, but with genuine care for the other person’s performance and wellbeing.

Being part of B&B wasn’t just about the ratings or the dramatic twists. It was about the longevity of the friendships, the shared history, and the deep, unspoken respect that comes from surviving the fast-paced, high-pressure world of daytime television together. We were family in the truest sense—we argued, we cried (on and off camera), but when the camera rolled, we were absolutely there for one another.

Looking at that photo, I don’t just see two co-stars. I see the people who held me up through late nights, who celebrated my successes, and who understood the unique, wonderful insanity of Set Life. What a special time. What truly great, unforgettable memories. They are the true Bold and the Beautiful of those days.