Like many fellow Gen Z’ers, I discovered Twiggy not through her groundbreaking editorials but on reality TV—specifically on America’s Next Top Model. The British model first appeared on the reality competition’s panel of judges in cycle five (which premiered in 2005) and stayed on through cycle nine in 2007. While I was busy learning how to read during her early seasons on the show, I picked up just in time for Twiggy’s final two ANTM seasons, where she instantly captured my heart.
I first took note of Twiggy when she challenged the models of cycle eight to come up with a nickname for themselves (which, as a third grader, I sought to replicate—to no avail). She described how her boyfriend Justin de Villeneuve (born Nigel Davies) convinced her to ditch her birth name, Leslie Hornby, in favor of an adaptation of her childhood nickname: Twigs. Mercifully, I stopped short of copying her Swinging Sixties crop, even though my very supportive mother encouraged me to do it. (With heavy bangs and a severe side part, I think I would’ve looked more like Kate Gosselin—a much more omniscient cultural figure in the mid-aughts.) Still, I admired that Twiggy was able to turn perceived negatives not only into positives, but also into a career—her boyishness became her calling card. After all, it was her pixie cut that allowed her to become “The Face of ’66,” as she was dubbed by the Daily Express. For an 8-year-old inexplicably fixated on reinvention, I thought that adopting a mononym and getting a drastic haircut was the most glamorous thing a person could do.
Although ANTM would occasionally show snippets of Twiggy’s past work, I didn’t become too familiar with her until my tween years, when I took up an interest in fashion—particularly the Swinging Sixties. It was then when Twiggy’s inimitable, effortless coolness really began to resonate with me. While she’s still strongly associated with exaggerated eye makeup, mod minidresses, and the oversized sunnies of the ’60s, she seamlessly fit into many eras. Be it her British Invasion era, her sweeter ’70s styles, or her ’80s glam, Twiggy proved herself the ultimate chameleon. An It Girl in every sense of the term, she also caught the eye of David Bowie, who name-checked her in the song “Drive-In Saturday” (“She’d sigh like Twig the wonder kid”). She also also appeared on the cover of his album Pin Ups. Everything she did caused intrigue—even her getting a haircut was a media circus. Yet she also proved that cool doesn’t equal uncaring. A philanthropist to this day, Twiggy has been recognized for her passion for animal rights and her contribution to breast cancer charities. She also proved to be more than a model, parlaying her early career in front of the camera into a successful acting and singing career. She made her West End debut in Cinderella in 1974, won two Golden Globes for her 1971 performance in The Boy Friend, and released music that charted in the UK. At the end of the day, Twiggy’s got that je ne sais quoi that can’t be bottled. She is one of one, with a career to match.
But it was Twiggy’s kindness as a judge on ANTM that drew me to her all those years ago. Replacing the brutal critic Janice Dickinson, Twiggy was a much kinder, judicious alternative. Her hiring lent massive credibility to the competition, and she delivered wisdom from her decades of experience in the industry with grace. Unlike many of the judges throughout the show’s history, she didn’t rely on punching down. While she accepted the show’s campiness, Twiggy didn’t play along with the cruelties that the judges inflicted on the contestants. She took the young women competing for the title seriously. Maybe it didn’t make for the best reality TV, but it cemented her as number one in my book.
