This English fashion icon, who set trends in the 1960s with her distinctive look and became a symbol of the era, remains as elegant as ever in her 70s. Today, fans are still in awe of her as she shows that true fashion never fades with age.
On September 19, 1949, this model, actress, and producer was born. By the time the ’60s rolled by, she was ready to revolutionize the fashion industry with her distinctive look and instantly recognizable style.
Her slim figure, pixie haircut, and striking eyes made her a global sensation and a symbol of a new era in modeling. Decades later, her influence still resonates in the fashion world, and fans are excited about how she has carried her iconic image into her 70s, maintaining the charm and elegance that first captivated the world.
Far from slowing down, she remains active in her personal and professional life, embracing her age gracefully. The star often engages in various pursuits, including appearances on television, fashion collaborations, and public speaking.
In September 2023, she collaborated with Vogue to recreate her Bert Stern original Vogue shoot from 1967. Despite her age, she flawlessly nailed the look as she noted, ” Everything came full circle for me in that moment.”
Fans immediately took to the comments section to share their thoughts. One wrote, “The most iconic of all the supermodels.” Another fan went down memory lane, writing, “I remember I was in 12th grade and did lower lash draw in and my sister got the short twiggy hair cut. You look amazing still. ❤️”
As she maintains a vibrant lifestyle, her passion for fashion and zest for life remains as strong as ever. Fans are also excited about her journey through the decades, which showcases a fascinating evolution of style that began in the vibrant 1960s.
A Look Back: From the ’60s to Now
The model burst onto the fashion scene in the 1960s, becoming the face of a new era with her slim figure, short blonde hair, big eyes, and androgynous style.
Discovered as a teenager, she quickly became an international sensation, embodying the youthful spirit of the decade. Her unique look broke the mold of traditional beauty standards, making her a trailblazer and a cultural icon.
1960s: The Rise of a Supermodel
In the 1960s, her boyish figure, dramatic eyelashes, and pixie haircut set her apart from the curvier models of the time. She became the embodiment of the “mod” look.
Her influence extended beyond modeling; She became a symbol of the changing attitudes toward women’s fashion, representing freedom and youth.
1970s: Expanding Horizons
As the 1970s rolled in, she transitioned from modeling to acting and singing, showcasing her versatility. She embraced the era’s trends and showcased a softer, more natural look.
Her style evolved to reflect the laid-back vibe of the decade while still maintaining her unique edge. By 1977, her career flourished as an actress.
She became known as a Broadway star, and her family and personal life also thrived. It was that year that she married American actor Michael Whitney.
1980s: Family Life and More
The star and her husband welcomed a daughter. Sadly, by April 1983, when their daughter was four, the couple had become estranged. In September of that year, she lost her husband as he collapsed in a Manhattan restaurant due to a heart attack.
At the time of his death, she was going on stage to perform her hit musical “My One and Only,” and was not told the sad news until she finished her set.
Despite her loss, the model and actress’s fashion sense also matured. She adopted more classic and sophisticated styles while reflecting the decade’s trends.
1990s: Effortless Style in a Grunge Era
The 1990s saw her still ruling the fashion world. She embraced the minimalist and grunge trends of the era, often seen in simple, chic outfits. From plaids to scarves, the model showed versatility with her looks.
She also loved her high-waisted and skinny jeans. Over the years, she proved her timeless appeal and adaptability.
2000s: Reinventing the Icon
In the 2000s, she continued to reinvent herself, embracing the fashion trends of the new millennium. She balanced modern styles with a nod to her iconic past, often wearing sleek silhouettes, statement accessories, and bold patterns.
The model remained a fixture in fashion, taking on roles as a judge alongside Tyra Banks on shows like “America’s Next Top Model,” where she influenced a new generation of aspiring models.
2010s: Embracing Timeless Elegance
As she entered her 60s, her style evolved into a timeless and elegant one. She often opted for tailored outfits and refined accessories, showcasing a sophisticated look that was true to her playful spirit.
She continued to make public appearances, captivating audiences with her graceful aging and ongoing contribution to the fashion world. In this decade, she noted her style hadn’t changed much.
When planning her looks, she tended to start from her feet up. This is because her footwear depends on how much walking she’d be doing, which automatically helps her decide what to wear.
Before the decade ended, she received the Dame Commander of the Order of the British Empire award for her services to fashion, the arts, and charity in 2019.
2020s: Aging with Grace and Style
Now in her 70s, her style reflects a confident embrace of her age. She favors comfortable yet stylish clothing, often seen in chic blazers and classic colors.
While she maintains the iconic short hair, her makeup is softer, highlighting her natural beauty. Her look today blends the classic and the contemporary, demonstrating that style is ageless.
From the bold, youthful looks of the 1960s to her sophisticated style today, this icon’s fashion journey is a testament to her ability to adapt and evolve. She has transitioned seamlessly through the decades, each phase of her life marked by a distinct yet recognizable style.
While her look has matured, her essence remains unchanged — she continues to inspire with her timeless beauty, proving that true style is not about following trends but staying true to oneself.
Over the years, the model and actress born Lesley Hornby, famously known as Twiggy, has embraced a natural approach to aging, choosing to forgo cosmetic procedures like Botox in favor of aging gracefully.
She has spoken candidly about her decision, expressing that she values authenticity and feels no pressure to alter her appearance. Her choice to embrace her natural beauty sets her apart in an industry often obsessed with youth.
In 2016, she revealed, “I haven’t had plastic surgery but, if I ever felt the need, I would find a very, very good surgeon. I would never use Botox because, in my mind, it’s poison.”
Her natural approach to aging doesn’t just define her personal life — it’s also a key part of her enduring influence in fashion. Regarding her wardrobe, she prefers cobalt blue, purple, and orange while staying away from yellows because of her skin tone.
Twiggy’s natural approach to aging is a refreshing reminder that confidence and self-love are timeless. She also knows how to care for herself despite remarking that she’s low maintenance.
She swears by pilates, an exercise recommended by her osteopath after she suffered a bad back. Now that she’s a grandmother, Twiggy also knows how to relax. She does this with a glass of wine, preferably a Rose, especially during summer.
Irrespective of what she does, Twiggy once mentioned that she never goes on a diet. However, she’s mindful of what she eats and drinks lots of water.
Twiggy exemplifies what it means to age gracefully — staying true to her iconic image while evolving with poise and elegance. Her journey is a reminder that style is about celebrating who you are at every stage of life.
A Stranger Volunteered to Hold My Grandson at the Laundromat — His Next Action Left Me Breathless
When my washing machine broke while I was babysitting my grandson, I reluctantly headed to the laundromat. A kind stranger offered to help by holding the baby while I sorted clothes. Grateful, I accepted, but when I turned around minutes later, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
I’d been counting down the days, practically bursting with excitement. My first weekend alone with little Tommy, my precious grandson. At 58, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. But nothing could have prepared me for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead.
The day finally arrived. Sarah, my daughter, and her husband Mike pulled up in their sensible SUV, packed to the brim with what looked like enough baby gear to stock a small daycare.
“Mom, you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Sarah asked for what felt like the millionth time, her brow furrowed with that new-mom worry I remembered all too well.
I waved her off with a confident smile. “Honey, I raised you, didn’t I? We’ll be just fine. Now scoot! You two deserve this break.”
As they drove away, I turned to Tommy, nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. “It’s just you and me now, little man,” I cooed. “We’re gonna have the best time.”
I had it all planned out: cuddles, bottles, naps, and playtime, all neatly scheduled. What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
It started with a gurgle. Not the adorable baby kind, but the ominous rumble of my ancient washing machine giving up the ghost.
I stared at the growing puddle on my laundry room floor, surrounded by a mountain of tiny onesies and burp cloths.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, feeling my perfect weekend plans crumble. Tommy chose that moment to unleash an impressive spit-up all over his last clean outfit.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Grammy’s got this. We’ll just pop down to the laundromat. No big deal, right?”
Oh, how wrong I was.
The local laundromat was a relic from the ’80s, all buzzing fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of too much detergent.
I juggled Tommy, the diaper bag, and an overflowing laundry basket, feeling like I was performing some sort of demented circus act.
“Need a hand there, ma’am?”
I turned to see a man about my age, all salt-and-pepper hair and a grandfatherly smile.
Under normal circumstances, I might have politely declined. But with Tommy starting to fuss and my arms about to give out, that offer of help was too tempting to resist.
“Oh, would you mind? Just for a moment while I get this started,” I said, relief flooding through me.
He reached for Tommy, his weathered hands gentle as he cradled my grandson. “No trouble at all. Reminds me of when my own were little.”
I turned to the washing machine, fumbling with quarters and detergent pods. The familiar motions were soothing, and I found myself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That’s when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck, a sudden silence that felt oppressive. I glanced back, more out of instinct than any genuine concern.
My heart stopped.
Tommy, my precious baby grandson, had something bright and colorful in his tiny mouth. A Tide pod. And that “helpful” stranger? He was just standing there, smiling like everything was fine.
“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab Tommy.
I pried the pod from his mouth, my mind reeling with horrible possibilities. What if I hadn’t turned around? What if he’d swallowed it?
I turned back to the strange man in a fury.
“What were you thinking?” I yelled at the man, clutching Tommy to my chest. “Don’t you know how dangerous these are?”
He just shrugged, that infuriating smile still in place. “Kids put everything in their mouths. No harm done.”
“No harm done? Are you mad?” I snatched up a detergent pod and thrust it toward him. “Here, why don’t you eat one then and we’ll see how it agrees with you!”
The man raised his hands and backed away. “What? No ways. It’s not like he got any, he was just nibbling on the edge…”
“Nibble on the edge then!” I snapped. I was practically stuffing the pod in his mouth at this point, I was so angry!
“Leave me alone, you crazy Karen!” The man tugged the pod from my fingers and threw it aside. “Fine thanks I’m getting for trying to help you.”
I wanted to shake him, to make him understand the gravity of what could have happened. I may well have done something crazy too, but Tommy was crying now, big hiccuping sobs that matched the frantic beating of my heart.
“You, are an absolute menace!” I yelled at the man as I started grabbing my things. “And an idiot, too, if you think it’s harmless to let kids chew on whatever they put in their mouths.”
I snatched up the washing basket, not caring about the wet clothes left behind or the quarters wasted.
All that mattered was getting Tommy out of there, away from that clueless man and his careless disregard for a baby’s safety.
The drive home was a blur. Tommy’s cries from the backseat felt like an accusation. How could I have been so stupid? So careless?
I’d handed my grandson over to a complete stranger, all because I was too proud to admit I might need more help than I’d thought.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, Tommy held tight against me. He was still crying, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d swallowed some of the chemicals after all.
My hands were still shaking as I took out my phone and called my doctor. I couldn’t stop the tears that came, hot and heavy, when the receptionist picked up.
“Miss Carlson?” I sobbed. “This is Margo. Please, can I speak to Dr. Thompson? It’s urgent.”
The receptionist quickly put me through, and I explained everything to Dr. Thompson. He asked me a series of questions, like whether Tommy was vomiting or experiencing any trouble breathing.
“No, none of that, doctor,” I replied.
“It seems like you got lucky then, Margo,” he replied, “but keep a close eye on that grandson of yours and get him to the hospital immediately if he starts wheezing, coughing, or vomiting, okay?”
I promised I would, thanked Dr. Thompson, and ended the call. His words had given me some relief, but the “what ifs” kept playing through my mind like some horrible movie I couldn’t turn off.
What if I hadn’t looked back in time? What if Tommy had swallowed that pod? What if, what if, what if…
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in. But even as my body begged for rest, my mind wouldn’t quiet.
The weight of responsibility I’d taken on hit me full force. This wasn’t like babysitting for a few hours. This was a whole weekend where I was solely responsible for this tiny, precious life.
I looked down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully against my chest, unaware of how close we’d come to disaster. His little rosebud mouth, the one that had so nearly ingested something so dangerous, now puckered slightly in sleep.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Grammy promises to do better.”
And in that moment, I made a vow. Never again would I let my pride or anyone else’s apparent helpfulness put Tommy at risk. From now on, it was just us: Grammy and Tommy against the world.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of hypervigilance. Every little sound had me on edge, every potential hazard magnified in my mind.
By the time Sarah and Mike returned, I was a wrung-out mess of nerves and sleep deprivation.
“Mom, are you okay?” Sarah asked, concern etching her features as she took in my disheveled appearance.
I plastered on a smile, handing over a happily gurgling Tommy. “Just fine, honey. We had a wonderful time, didn’t we, little man?”
As I watched them drive away, relief and guilt warred within me. I’d kept Tommy safe in the end. But the close call at the laundromat would haunt me for a long time to come.
I trudged back inside, eyeing the pile of still-unwashed laundry. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.
“Hello? I’d like to order a new washing machine, please. ASAP.”
Some lessons, it seems, come at a higher price than others. But if it meant keeping my grandson safe, no cost was too great. After all, that’s what being a grandmother is all about: love, learning, and sometimes, hard-won wisdom.
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