How Diane Keaton Taught Us That Conventional Beauty Is Bullshit

The first time I laid eyes on Diane Keaton was in the movie Annie Hall, in which she plays the titular lead. At the start, just like her co-star Woody Allen's character, I wasn't sure what to make of the small-town girl recently arrived to the big city, with her funny clothes and dialect quirks. (Well, la-di-da indeed.) And then I fell in love, with Annie Hall, with Annie Hall, with the woman at the center of the movie itself.

While I could recount to you the plot of the movie, that's not the point of this story. (Furthermore, complicated Woody Allen feelings aside, it's a great flick and well worth watching yourself, if only to watch Keaton's character come into her own over the course of the movie.) The main thing that stuck out to me at the time was that Keaton wasn't a conventional beauty: She was gangly, without much in the way of feminine curves — a rebuke to more buxom stars of the late-'70s film era. Her clothes were strange, and she was mostly un-made-up. These days we would call hers a natural, unstyled appeal. But it was also more than that. There was a confidence to her tomboyishness, both in her onscreen presence and in real life: I've always loved that Diane Keaton seems to always be wearing exactly what she wants, no matter what rules the styles of the day dictate.

It's hard to believe, but Keaton turns 71 on January 5. She's as unique and lovely in attire and visage as she's ever been. We took a look back at some of our favorite sartorial moments from her past and realized that the old adage, in this case, holds true: The more things change, the more they stay the same.