Why Heather Graham is my Joan Collins.

I saw Heather Graham at a private members club in Hollywood last night. We’re the same age, although, she seems to be mysteriously losing years while I’m gaining them.

Funny, I remember years ago my mum telling me that she was the same age as Joan Collins but that Joan was now ten years younger than her. Age is the Bermuda Triangle of actresses. Mum always got upset at Joan’s deception, and I couldn’t really understand why. Until now.

Heather is a wrinkle-free, luminescent, wide-eyed ingenue. She was with some hot modelly dude who wore denim like he’d grappled the Marlboro Man to the ground, and won the jacket in a fight.

Her limbs were the size of the cardboard tube you find in the middle of a roll of paper towels. Her lips were plump, moist and painted bright red. If I wore lipstick that way, the general public would assume that I’d been punched in the mouth.

I told the guy who was sitting next to that me that Heather and I were the same age. He’d been talking to me for a while – seemed interested but who knows? – and then he asked me how old I was. So I told him.

He looked at me. He looked at Heather. And then he did that twice more.

And I swear I heard him IN HIS HEAD, say, ‘Then how the hell does she look like that – and you look like THIS?’

His pity eyes crushed my spinny soul.

SILENCE. I glugged back my Pinot Noir, and stared right back at him.

*sigh* I used to like Heather Graham.

Today, she is my Joan Collins.

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One Comment on “Why Heather Graham is my Joan Collins.”

  1. Roj says:

    “…who wore denim like he’d grappled the Marlboro Man to the ground, and won the jacket in a fight.” <- love this.


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