Even if you don’t know the name Twiggy, you probably know the face it’s associated with: the short, sleek blonde haircut, the full lips that form a perfect pout but also a radiant smile, and the almost impossibly round eyes, framed with layer upon layer of thick false eyelashes and black mascara. It was dubbed “The Face of ‘66” by Deirdre McSharry of the Daily Express, but sixty years later, it’s still iconic. Yet the modeling career of the woman born Lesley Hornby was only a very brief period of time (a mere four years!) in what has been a long and eventful life.
Directed by actress and filmmaker Sadie Frost, who previously examined the life and legacy of another British fashion icon in Quant, the documentary Twiggy explores how this working-class girl from the London suburbs rose to the top of the modeling world and then turned her talents to acting, singing, dancing, and design, embracing new opportunities wherever they arose. While Twiggy may not change the face of filmmaking in the way its subject changed the face of fashion, it’s still an enjoyable look at a remarkable and resilient woman who has earned her place in history.
“The Face to Launch a Thousand Shapes”
When Twiggy was coming of age, models were all of a similar type: upper-class debutantes with curvaceous figures to kill for. They certainly weren’t Cockney kids, nicknamed “Twigs” for their super-slim legs, who frequented mod clubs and modeled their eye makeup off of their childhood rag dolls. But when she was sixteen, Twiggy let hairstylist Leonard of Mayfair color and crop her hair for some test shots. Those photos caught the eye of McSharry, and almost immediately, a new type of supermodel was born: androgynous, energetic, and oh so modern.
Those early photos of Twiggy feel revolutionary for a variety of reasons, but one in particular is pointed out by many of the talking heads who participate in this film: she smiled. A lot. She also laughed loudly and often, “like a truck driver,” according to her friend Dustin Hoffman. Images of Twiggy swinging from a light pole in a shift dress or riding a bicycle with her face lit up with a big grin are memorable not just because she was so beautiful, but because despite her incredible beauty, she still looks and feels like a real teenage girl who you could shop with at the famed London boutique Biba or gossip with in the bathroom at one of the trendiest clubs of the day. It sounds corny at first, but when you see footage of Twiggy from that time, you can believe that she was indeed “the first real supermodel you could relate to.”
Her Life to Live
What makes Twiggy such an entertaining documentary is the extensive involvement of the woman herself. Now in her late 70s, Twiggy tells her own story with charm and candor; she is as magnetic today as she was in those original photographs so many years ago. She describes how, at the height of her fame, she retired from modeling to pursue a career as an actress, starring in Ken Russell’s musical movie The Boy Friend, and as a singer, recording albums and performing at the Royal Albert Hall. She got name-checked in a David Bowie song and appeared with him on the album cover, debuted on Broadway alongside friend and collaborator Tommy Tune and earned a Tony nomination for her troubles, and narrowly escaped a pretty terrifying encounter with the infamous Phil Spector.

Said Spector sequence is one of several in Twiggy depicted through cutesy hand-drawn animation, one of the film’s more creative storytelling decisions. Otherwise, it is mostly a montage of talking heads and archival footage, the former including people as wide-ranging as Joanna Lumley (who provides some fascinating insight into the modeling world of the 1960s), Stella McCartney, Sienna Miller, Brooke Shields, and the aforementioned Hoffman. I think the film relies a little too heavily on these outside figures, especially since some of them seem to have only a cursory connection to the film’s subject. When you have a subject who sparkles as naturally as Twiggy does, you don’t need a lot of other people to tell the audience why she is such an important cultural figure; she immediately makes that clear herself.
Conclusion
Twiggy’s willingness to embrace change and face challenges head-on is the main throughline of Frost’s documentary, and one that cannot fail to inspire you. Even if you only know (and love) her from her modeling career, you’ll find Twiggy fascinating.
Twiggy is available in theaters in New York and Los Angeles and on digital nationwide on September 22, 2026.
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