Photo credit: www.theguardian.com
The woman clad in a jade-green suede biker jacket and tartan trousers extends her hand. “Hello, I’m Twig,” she introduces herself. The name continues to evoke a sense of whimsy, especially for those who have grown up with it. Known initially as “Sticks” due to her slender legs, her nickname evolved into “Twiggy” when the Daily Express dubbed her “the face of 1966” at the age of 16. Yet, recalling her birth name, Lesley Hornby, from 75 years ago feels peculiar.
Twiggy, who typically avoids dwelling on the past, finds herself reflecting on her journey today, particularly in the presence of director Sadie Frost. Frost, who crafted a recent documentary chronicling Twiggy’s remarkable life, first met the iconic model during an episode of her podcast. “I appreciated the parallels in our experiences: modeling, acting, and fashion,” Twiggy notes. Frost, herself a former model turned actress, shares her excitement about their shared experiences, including raising children and now grandchildren—Twiggy has five, while Frost has recently become a grandmother. “When my granddaughter was six, she walked up to a picture of me in Marks & Spencer and kissed it. So sweet!”
Frost’s documentary utilizes a mix of archival footage and contemporary insights from Twiggy’s peers and successors, with a humorous Joanna Lumley adding a light-hearted touch. Although the narrative has elements of nostalgia, it doesn’t shy away from the shadows of loss and the darker side of the fashion world, marked by moments of sexism and predation. Nonetheless, the portrayal of Twiggy remains vibrant and full of life.
Unlike many tales of dramatic rises and falls, Twiggy’s narrative is about sustained success. She gained international fame as a model in the late 1960s, transitioned into acting with a standout role in Ken Russell’s lively 1971 musical The Boy Friend, which earned her two Golden Globes, and expanded her repertoire to include music and Broadway, even receiving a Tony nomination. Recently, she has been a significant figure for Marks & Spencer, revitalizing the brand first through advertising campaigns and later with her clothing line, including the green suede jacket she sports today. “Twiggy Saves M&S!” exclaimed one headline, suggesting her influence was indeed impactful.
The choice of venue for their breakfast—a members’ club overlooking a sweeping view of west London—is also significant. As they enjoy their meals, Twiggy reminisces about her childhood, pointing towards Neasden as she recalls the thrill of hearing the local football team score during her playtime in the garden.
Twiggy, the youngest of three sisters, describes her eldest sibling as a maternal figure. Her mother, a factory worker, faced serious health challenges, encompassing periods in the hospital and likely struggles with mental health, something that resonates in today’s conversations around bipolar disorder, though it was treated very differently in her youth.
Twiggy fondly remembers her father as a steadfast presence. Although he was skeptical when she entered the modeling world after a photograph taken by Barry Lategan caught a journalist’s eye at a hair salon, his apprehension was somewhat alleviated by the supportive role of her then-boyfriend and manager, Justin de Villeneuve.
The iconic photograph of Twiggy, with her striking gaze and trademark lashes, is a defining image. Reflecting on her youth, she states, “Oh yes, she’s still in there. She’s like my little friend; she never goes away.”
Despite her father’s concerns about the modeling industry’s nature, he was comforted by Justin’s protective presence during her early career. Notably, Twiggy highlights that while they began dating when she was just 15, their relationship did not become romantic until she was 16. However, reflecting on their age difference today raises eyebrows. “I understand how it sounds now,” she remarks, acknowledging that, while she felt safe with him, his significant presence sometimes felt suffocating. At one point, de Villeneuve was even banned from visiting the set of The Boy Friend, which Twiggy perceived as a relief.
She recalls experiences of the era’s pervasive sexism that often manifested during interviews. As she faced invasive questions about her body and measurements, Twiggy and Frost recognize how such treatment could affect self-esteem, with Frost recounting a painful nickname from her modeling days: “Thunder Thighs.”
The challenges persisted. During a visit to the U.S. in 1967, Twiggy was startled when Woody Allen ambushed her during what she thought was an interview, aiming to demean her. “He was trying to make me look foolish,” she recalls, feeling profoundly uncomfortable, yet ultimately flipping the situation to her advantage by calmly turning the question back on him.
Such moments exemplify the overt misogyny of the time. Twiggy recognizes this behavior but also views Allen’s conduct as a lapse in basic civility, emphasizing her belief that respect should be afforded to everyone, regardless of age.
Twiggy also recounts a disconcerting encounter with producer Phil Spector, where a sense of danger was heightened by his erratic behavior, including brandishing a gun. Thankfully, her then-husband helped escort her safely from that intimidating situation.
Frost reflects on the ongoing issues of exploitation in the industry. While the #MeToo movement has shifted the narrative, it hasn’t eradicated the potential for predation. Twiggy’s enduring positive demeanor throughout her career is remarkable, as she continuously projects warmth and joy in her public persona. However, when asked if there is a hidden darkness within her, she responds thoughtfully, acknowledging, “Oh yes, I would think so. We all have our moments.”
Maintaining a reputation as someone who gets along with others, Twiggy emphasizes the importance of not underestimating her. “If anyone crosses me, I can get cross back,” she asserts, accompanied by Frost’s observation that “Twiggy’s no pushover.”
Twiggy’s documentary will be available in cinemas across the UK and Ireland starting today.
Source
www.theguardian.com