Bye, Farrah


I find myself resisting the urge to make inappropriate puns and rhymes with her name. Despite the apparent devolution of her persona in the last couple decades, there was always something endearing and certainly fascinating about her. Beneath the all-American, sparkly sun-bleached surface, it was dark and sad and a little bit creepy (especially where her relationship with Ryan O’Neal was concerned.) In other words there was much more to Farrah than big hair and a hot bod (there usually is) as the abyss behind those cavernous eyes revealed–not to mention the juicy bits in Tatum O’Neal’s memoir.

I remember Charlie’s Angels and the iconic poster my younger brother had on his bedroom wall. I remember loathing the girls at school who copied Farrah’s feathered hairstyle. I remember when feathered hair itself became loathsome. Farrah bravely endured possibly the most humiliating cancers of all: rectal cancer. She refused to let it mock her. This I find most memorable of all. Here are some of my other memories of the late great Farrah Fawcett:

Her first embarrassing appearance on Letterman

Farrah on a skateboard

Farrah the artist: using her painted naked body as the brush on canvas

Farrah the psychobiatch from Hell (again via Tatum O’Neal)

Farrah playing tennis

Farrah selling toothpaste or cosmetics or something

Her rightfully acclaimed performance as the victim of domestic abuse in The Burning Bed

/wave. We’ll miss you. xoxo.


One Comment to “Bye, Farrah”

  1. Just watched the Barbara Walters 20/20 special online and having watched it, I would agree with you that there was much more to Farrah than the all american beauty queen – in one interview with Barbara she said she was frustrated that people wouldn’t look beyond the beauty and there was so much more to her

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