I never had a picture of Farrah Fawcett hanging on the wall: at the time of Charlie’s Angels, I thought myself too cool for that sort of thing, and besides, she didn’t speak to me hormonally, if that’s the phrase.
Which is a shame, since apparently she was just as nice as you’d hope a Texas girl would be:
[S]peaking as one who was a girl in the Seventies, her Angel heyday, it wasn’t that we wanted to be her. We wanted to be her friend. Because, in spite of her sexiness, what Farrah projected was a lot of niceness. Of course, if she’d been transported to your high school, she would have been the most popular girl. But she would have been nice to the Math Geeks and let the unpopular girls sit at her table in the lunch room.
Which is really about all you can ask for, come to think about it.
Although it doesn’t hurt if you look like this at fifty-seven:
Aside to Ryan, and by extension to many of us: This is why you shouldn’t wait so long.
(Photo by AP/Chris O’Meara at the MTV Video Music Awards, Miami, August 2004.)