Margot and I share a few similarities, although I could never claim to be quite so cool as her. We are the surly, sassy sisters of the family, with the not-always-appreciated vein of independence. Our brains get lost.
Thankfully I can’t claim complete resemblance – she may make a great case for smoking in her classic nonchalance, but it won’t win me over, ever. I’d also like to think that my life has been slightly more of the normal sort – potentially boring in comparison and much less eventful, but fewer near-death experiences.
Nonetheless, she is a babe who really embraces the bob and smoky eye. Today was my day for the chop. I got all prepared and washed, headed to the dodgy little hairdresser after a busy morning, and it was full to the brim. Not worth the wait – maybe it was a sign that I could never pull it off in quite the same way as Gwyneth. That crazy man could have saved me from many a tear being shed.