The death of actor Diane Keaton hit me in my gut when I opened my gadget Sunday morning, and she was on top of the news feed. No cause of death or premonition thereof. The obit simply stated she had died in California.
I’ve followed her since her Annie Hall days. There was a time I tried wearing a semi-military look to work at the defunct Daily Express, complete with matching sky blue slim pants, buttoned-up, long-sleeved shirt and medals on my lapel. There was practically hardware on my chest. Deskman Val Abelgas took one look at me and asked pointblank: “Ano ’yan (What’s that)?”
My editor Tere Orendain was abroad so I closed the Fashion section with a spread of photos of trench coats, midi-length dresses and boots. I put the title Annie Fall. The next day, I got a scolding from editor-in-chief Pocholo Romualdez when the printed copy came out. “Wala namang Fall sa Pilipinas, a. Ba’t ganyan nilalabas mo (There is no Fall in the Philippines. Why are you putting out stuff like that)?”
Today, I feel a sort of vindication from the “follies” of my youth. Diane—I dare to be familiar with her—made being all covered up a chic thing. While other female actors are quick to undress before the camera or wear gowns with the decolettage or neckline dropping to the red carpet, Diane made the turtleneck sweater a staple of her wardrobe, and this endeared her to her followers.
The turtleneck even became an interior joke in the movie Something’s Gotta Give with the Jack Nicholson character asking her, what’s with the sweater at the height of summer? She looked great in all-white outfits like this one in a Vanity Fair article (photo by Kevin Winter of Getty Images).
I loved the Minnie Mouse dress (with polka dots and swirling 1950s balloon skirt) that the character Andy Garcia gifted her with in the sequel to the film Book Club. She joined a cast of icons, including style mavens, of my youth: Jane Fonda, Candice Bergen and Mary Steenburgen. Her name in the movie was also Diane. This time the cinematic Diane was not adverse to marriage, but the real Diane once said she had eluded marriage because it entailed too much compromises. She wasn’t ready for that. Not even with possible (talked about) partners like Warren Beatty and Al Pacino.
She wore men’s clothing with elan, including neckties and vests. Scarves covered her neck, a good way to hide turkey lines. To me she took Jacqueline Kennedy’s distinctive appearance to the next level: Androgyny. All she needed was to become an equestrienne for she wore a horseback rider’s outfit well, too. I’ve often wondered if she dismissed the services of a costume designer and just dressed herself to suit her character.
Like Meryl Streep, another woman I admire as an artist and a person, Diane could sing. She even released an album, First Christmas. She sings here:
The past week has been hard on me. Pablo Tariman, my kaututang dila (friend and confidante), is also gone, except for his written words and the music he loved. Diane remains ever luminous in my mind and on the screen.
She was right when she said, “The best part is that I’m still here and, because the end is in sight, I treasure it all more.”
