It's a vision hard to conjure as she cooks breakfast from her country garden and frolics about in beige linens, but once, Gwyneth Paltrow was cool.
It was the mid-1990s. Gwyneth was a Hollywood ingenue, the Next Big Thing. The vagina candles, jade eggs and starvation diets were all decades away on a far horizon, and Gwynny was bar-hopping in leather pants, drinking cocktails, smoking cigarettes and dating the hottest actors in Hollywood only to dump them, leaving them longing.
Brad Pitt was in her rear-view mirror. Ben Affleck, one half of celebrated 'lil writing duo who was making Good Will Hunting, was becoming her new Thing, and Gwyneth's star was on the rise. Seven. Emma. Sliding Doors. She was being groomed for greatness.
And she was sharing an apartment with a woman who was already great.
Just as it's a little jarring to imagine Gwyneth as a club hopper with a smoker's cough, if you're only familiar with Winona Ryder as the kooky, slightly hysterical Joyce Byers of Stranger Things, you might struggle to understand how untouchably cool she was in the 90s.
Yes, she had dated Johnny Depp (if this story is beginning to feel like a long list of problematic people, just wait until Weinstein appears), but the Queen of Slacker culture was entirely her own creation.
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