The last time I wrote about Dame Helen Mirren, I received an elegant letter in response from an eminent plastic surgeon. I’d been mouthing off about how she proved you could look totally great at any age (she’s nearly 70) without plastic surgery.
His point was that all she proves is the difference between really good plastic surgery and the horror-show version that leaves people looking like catfish in a wind tunnel.
That was slightly depressing because I ain’t never going to be having any kind of it so I’ll just have to hope all the downward dogs and fish oil do something for me.
Or I’ll just grow Shar-Pei wrinkly with style like Mick Jagger and Georgia O’Keeffe. Although the key thing about those two is that their marvellously weathered heads sit (or sat, in Ms O’Keeffe’s case) atop very slender bodies.
I think you’ve got to have proper architecture of bone structure to hang face crinkles off for it all to work. So, I’ll let you know how I get on with the ”five:two” fasting diet in that regard. At the moment, my wrinkles are more like rough frosting on a currant bun.
Meanwhile, I’m just going to enjoy gazing at this picture of Mirren. I no longer care whether she’s had surgery or not. She’s an actor, they’re under a lot of pressure to keep the face close-up ready, whatever. All I’m interested in is how magnificent she looks here.
She doesn’t look ”young”, that’s not the point or, I think, her goal. She looks like herself, just a more mature, polished version of it: beautiful, poised, confident and elegant. She looks grown up.