You played Edith Piaf and turned her inner beauty into outer beauty. Which is impossible. But you did it.
You wore a Gaultier mermaid costume and pulled it the fuck off.
You won the Oscar and BAFTA and Cesar and shoved Julie Christie’s face in it. (Note: Julie Christie is forever a Babe, but she was clearly being a bitch that year.)
You stirred up shit by being a 9/11 conspiracy theorist.
You moved in with Guillaume Canet.
You were French. Are you still? I don’t even know.
Then came some questionable decisions. You were in that terrible high school production of “Nine,” and then got involved with Johnny Depp (which we know in hindsight was a terrible idea) on “Public Enemies.” “Inception” was fantastic and an important step on Leo’s journey back to hotness, but then you sleepwalked through” Contagion” with those Chinese babies and I cared so little I immediately left the movie and walked into the nearest theater playing “Drive.”
You turned 35, which I wouldn’t recommend, but I have to admit you pretty much looked the same as you did at 34.
You got a short haircut that did nothing for you or me or anyone.
All of a sudden that mole on your face started looking prominent enough that it was mentioned in a movie review.
You had a baby, which I can’t really fault, and you did lose the extra weight within hours of giving birth. But I’m not going to lie – it didn’t really help anything chic-wise.
You were chosen as the face of Dior and the ads you did were literally perfect. So how is it possible that you can go out in so much Dior looking just okay??
Do you see? Just okay.
It just seems like you could not give less of a shit. That’s a great attitude when you don’t even have to try to act, look, and be fantastic, but a terrible one when you end up looking half-assed everywhere you go. Even your Vogue spread is half transcendent and half awful.
How does so much Babe evaporate in only five years????