Oscar winning actress Helen Mirren attended Jeanne du Barry premiere during Cannes Film Festival opening night and stunned everyone with her new looks.
Once again, the 77-year-old actress, who has given the world of film so much over the years, showed her unique sense of style when she decided to dye her hair blue for the occassion.
The color of her hair, which is usually grey as she embraces her natural looks, matched her outfit, a gorgeous gown designed by Daniel Del Core.
Mirren swept her newly dyed locks high into a Marie Antoinette style Pouf. She did this to match the movie’s French historic theme. The Queen star accessorized her outfit with a silver choker and a fan that had “#WorthIt” written on it, a nod to her role as a L’Oreal ambassador.
Many agree that the actress managed to outdo herself once again with her splendid and glamorous looks that made her appear as though she came right out of a fairytale.
Mirren’s stylist, Lee Harris, who shared a photo of the actress’ new look, wrote, “She knows how to make an entrance,” and we can’t agree more.
Back in 2019, Mirren attracted attention when she appeared with her hair pinkish.
Last year, again for the Cannes Film Festival, she donned extra-long white hair extensions and heavy eyeliner for a screening of the movie Mother And Son (Un Petit Frere).
Back then, she opted for a beaded silver gown and danced alongside actor Andie MacDowell.
In 2021, the actress told Vogue that going gray wasn’t a difficult transition for her. “I have to say it was very easy for me because my hair was always blonde. I was a natural blonde and although it was quite dark at times, in the summertime when I’d spent time in the sun, it would basically go white,” she said. “So the process of me losing the color of my hair was very easy—it just looked more and more as if I had been in the sun, but year-round.”
One thing is certain, Mirren does follow the fashion trends and always looks spectacular.
My Stepdaughter Surprised Me with a Car for My 55th Birthday, Discovering What Was Inside the Glove Box Left Me Speechless
Receiving a car from my stepdaughter, Emily, on my 55th birthday was the last thing I expected, especially given our rocky relationship. She handed me the keys and mentioned there was another surprise in the glove compartment. What I found inside changed everything between us.
Being a stepmom often feels like a balancing act, trying to be a parent without overstepping boundaries. For ten years, I navigated this tightrope with Emily. I met her father, David, at work, and after becoming friends, we started dating. He had lost his wife a year before we met, and his focus was on Emily, his cherished daughter. As our relationship deepened, I wondered about our future together. David expressed his love for me but worried about how Emily would react to a new stepmother.
When I married David, I knew it would be complicated. Emily was only 12 and still grieving her mother. My first meeting with her was tense; she barely spoke and quickly retreated to her room. This set the tone for our relationship. I tried my best to connect, but she remained distant, polite but always keeping me at arm’s length.
I remember putting together a surprise party for her 13th birthday, hoping it would help us bond. Although she smiled at the decorations, she still held back emotionally, creating a barrier between us. Despite the challenges, David and I were happy together. However, everything changed when David died in a car accident five years ago, leaving Emily and me to navigate our grief alone.
In that dark time, I promised to be there for Emily. But even as we became each other’s only family, I sensed that she merely tolerated me. As she grew more independent, starting a career in marketing, our interactions felt more like a formality than a genuine connection. I longed for a warm relationship, but it often felt one-sided.
Last Thanksgiving was particularly hard; Emily barely acknowledged me at a family gathering, deepening my feelings of being an outsider. So, when Emily called just before my birthday to take me out for a special dinner, I felt a flicker of hope. She picked me up in a sleek red convertible, and I thought it might finally be a sign of her acceptance.
When she handed me the keys, her voice felt distant and flat, almost like she was just fulfilling an obligation. I managed to thank her, but the dinner felt awkward and forced. It was hard to shake the feeling that the car was more of a way to alleviate her guilt than a genuine gift.
As we parked, Emily mentioned another surprise in the glove compartment. My heart raced as I opened it, revealing a stack of drawings from her childhood. My breath caught as I saw the stick-figure versions of us, with me labeled as “Mom” and captions like “Mom and Me”.
Tears filled my eyes as the realization hit: Emily had seen me as her mom all along, despite the distance between us. When I expressed my shock, she admitted she loved me but felt guilty calling me “Mom” because of her birth mother.
In that moment, the walls that had stood between us for years crumbled. We embraced tightly, tears streaming down our faces. That evening, we shared everything—our fears, doubts, and cherished moments. Finally, I felt the deep bond of a mother and daughter.
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