There are many perks that come with living in London, perhaps the most recent of which is the Grace Kelly dresses exhibition at the Victoria and Albert museum. Now, I have not actually had time to visit this exhibition (rest assured it shall happen soon), but this made me think about icons, but, in that self-absorbed way of ours, British ones. No, I hear you cry, Grace Kelly is not British. No, she is not, but perhaps there is more intrigue in ones own cultural icons than others, as they create more impact. Well, in any case, one person in particular inevitably sprung to mind...
Actress, beauty, talent, duty
to the country? Not really, just
an icon.
Alongside tea, crumpets,
croquet and reticence.
Barely size six, her waist
a mere twig, but she glides
willow-like. As with the oak,
she becomes stronger with age-
At least, her image does.
Britain encapsulated
in that Little Black Dress
bedazzled with rocks, and a cat
for good measure.
She put a spell on you
with those dark hypnotic eyes.
The eyebrows have a life of there own,
stamped across your head, like
you are across history.
There has never been such a beauty as you,
in and out. Actress. Activist.
We look up to you, we adore you,
Audrey, what did you say?
"I never think of myself as an icon.
What is in other people's minds is not in my mind.
I just do my thing."
Of course.
The iconic and quintessential Audrey Hepburn:
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