Suddenly You're History - Andrew Crofts
I confess I was more than a little in love with Twiggy when I
was a schoolboy in the Sixties. Although she was about four years older than me
she did not seem as intimidatingly mature and grown up as the other models and
film stars that my generation of boys were busily lusting after. In fact she
didn’t look that different to some of us when we were made-up to appear on stage
in school plays. It was quite possible to imagine yourself on a date with her,
despite her extraordinary and unusual beauty – not to mention her enormous global
fame and iconic status.
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| Twiggy |
So, when a publisher rang in the
mid nineties and asked if I would come to the office for lunch with Twiggy as
she was looking for a ghostwriter, it set all my nostalgia glands tingling.
The lunch was delightful. Twiggy
was delightful, and even though I didn’t get the job, (as sometimes happens, I was told they
had decided a woman would be more suitable), I felt I had an anecdote that
might at least interest, and possibly even impress, my children.
“I had lunch with Twiggy last
week,” I announced casually over Sunday lunch.
“Twiggy?” my eldest daughter
exclaimed, looking just as stunned as I thought appropriate for such a
momentous event. “That’s amazing. We’re doing her at school ... in history.”
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