When news broke this weekend that Diane Keaton had passed away at the age of 79, it was the kind you have to read three times to believe. How could someone so alive, so irresistible, so omnipresent in our collective self-care routines be… gone? Words failed me, but that warm and cozy feeling she gave us for decades was as palpable as ever. Keaton was never just a movie star; she was a mood, a genre, a way of being—all wrapped up in a turtleneck, a bowler hat, and that perfectly timed, slightly manic laugh.
Since she first flitted onto the screen as the titular Annie Hall, rambling and gesturing wildly through her iconic line, “La-di-da,” she’s been the embodiment of everything we didn’t know we wanted in a leading lady: quirky, charismatic, and achingly real. Of course, Keaton was already a star long before that Oscar-winning turn (hell, she was in The Godfather!). But it was that role—a head-scratching free spirit rooted in her own delightful contradictions and flaws—that cemented her as a Hollywood icon for the ages.
Often, when a star of such stature passes, you think, “Gee, I should really revisit their catalogue.” But with Keaton, you don’t have to wander far from your regular repeats. Need a feel-good movie? There’s plenty of the Nancy Meyers variety—from Something’s Gotta Give (2004) to Baby Boom (1986). Craving a deep belly laugh? Oh man, does The First Wives Club (1996) deliver. The list goes on. Her films—especially those cozy, heartwarming ’90s staples (my own personal entrée was 1991’s Father of the Bride, a VHS that was forever on replay in my house)—are always there to catch you when you fall and remind you that, after the meltdown, comes the happy ending.
Off screen, she dressed like no one else. She might be one of the last stars about whom you could say, “That’s so Diane Keaton,” and everyone would know exactly what you meant. Wide-legged menswear, floppy hats, vests, gloves, and a wide tie—the look she made famous as Annie Hall—was her own creation. Originally, costume designer Ruth Morley had envisioned a more traditional, less “formed” style for the role, but Woody Allen encouraged Keaton to style herself. The resulting look: a mix of vintage menswear, Ralph Lauren, and pieces pulled directly from her own closet. Idiosyncratic perfection.
Over the years, that look evolved into crisp suits, oversized belts (so big she smuggled contraband in them in 2008’s Mad Money), and architectural layers. While everyone else was wearing gowns on the red carpet, she gave us totally unexpected looks, like the all-white ensemble she wore to the 1997 Academy Awards: a white double-breasted suit, a white turtleneck, a pearl choker, gloves, and big ‘ole platform boots. Wow. Or one of my personal favourites: a distressed leather trench and matching maxi skirt, worn with teeny raver sunglasses at the premiere of What Women Want in 2003. Damn, Diane! More recently, she became the poster child for the “coastal grandmother” aesthetic—those monochromatic knits and easy silhouettes she wore so effortlessly in Meyers’ films. When she found out, she gave us this hilarious Instagram montage in response.
Through every decade that followed, Keaton kept evolving, never letting Hollywood’s expectations pin her down. She stayed single, and adopted two children in her fifties, something practically unheard of for a star of her generation (especially a former paramour of Warren Beatty’s and Al Pacino’s), and something she spoke openly and candidly about on numerous occasions, kindly leaving a blueprint for living life on one’s own terms.
Keaton was the last of a certain kind—unfiltered, funny, self-invented. A woman who could make neurosis look glamorous, aging look chic, and vulnerability look like power (just watch her making her The First Wives Club co-stars, Bette Midler and Goldie Hawn, quite literally double over while listening her talk about binge watching TV on Oprah).
If there’s any comfort in losing her, it’s knowing she taught us how to live with curiosity, humour, and a really good pair of trousers.
Feature image via Getty Images.
