A strange piece on Bardot at 75 purports to celebrate the actress as an "existentialist icon" and a feminist figure. Emblematic of a free new sexuality, an overtly sensual demeanor and an attitude of not giving a toss, Bardot, says Agnès Poirier, was a model for the new woman.

And yet, Bardot was, like Marilyn before her, first a sex symbol. She was someone who was defined by the gaze and perceptions and fantasies of others. Yes, she was gorgeous and naturally sexy. But the things people praise in this piece and in the accompanying video- her "typical Frenchness" and "joie de vivre" and "modern beauty" - are surface impressions, as facile as those of the men who adopted her as a sex symbol at the time. Says one scholar in the film, Bardot was "a vivid, standing, invitation to experience and inhabit and acknowledge ones one lust, the sexual side of one's nature, because she is an amalga, the sort of perfect shape of an attractive, erotic, desirable female."

They all talk about Bardot like she's dead. When in fact she's inconveniently alive. Since her retirement at 39, while it's certainly true that she doesn't seem to give a damn what people think, she hasn't always hewn to the roles of either "sex symbol" or "feminist icon," much as the author would have us believe she does.

She would only leave her home to protest about animal rights and make some ill-advised comments about immigration. She was once linked to Jean-Marie Le Pen's National Front but has never been a member or even a sympathiser. In fact, to this day, she has never stopped being herself: plain-speaking and natural. She has never resorted to any cosmetic surgery, whereas so many of her contemporaries including Sophia Loren, who also turns 75 this week, put their hopes of immortal beauty in the surgeon's knife. Bardot has retained her authenticity. Her story is that of a refusal not only of hypocrisy and moral grudges, but also of caution, calculation and premeditation.

What? Bardot has been repeatedly charged with "inciting racial hatred" for making public statements against "foreign over-population" and, spurred by the ritual slaughter of sheep during Eid-al-Kabir,a letter to government officials in 2004 in which she described Muslims as "this population that leads us around by the nose, [and] which destroys our country." In a book, she wrote that "...my country, France, my homeland, my land is again invaded by an overpopulation of foreigners, especially Muslims." And she may not have been a member of Le Pen's party? But she was married to one of his most active supporters. Don't try to toss that in with no plastic surgery as some kind of free-spirited foible.

I find it ironic that those so eager to claim her as an icon of liberated womanhood are so insistent on looking only at that image that was created to appeal to men, and on ignoring the actual woman she is. She was an "icon," it's true - but not for who she was, or even who she wanted to be. Bardot has been vocally critical of her own film work and of a youth devoted to men. But we won't talk about that: it's so much easier when we can just objectify women and make them what we want.

Happy birthday, Brigitte Bardot [Guardian]

Brigitte Bardot at 75: 'She Represents The Power Of Woman' [Guardian]
Is Brigitte Bardot Bashing Islam? [Time]

Born in Corpus Christi, Farrah Fawcett had a thriving career in commercials before shooting to stardom in 1976 as PI Jill Munroe in Charlie's Angels. Although she's associated in the public mind with this role and with her influence as a 70's style icon, Fawcett went on to have an enduring acting career, appearing off-Broadway and in a number of television movies, as well as in several highly-regarded television appearances. Especially noteworthy was her role as a battered wife in the 1984 TV movie The Burning Bed , for which she was nominated for an Emmy. The film was regarded as crucial in destimgatizing the victims of and drawing attention to issues of domestic abuse - as well as providing actual support information to viewers.

In the years since her diagnosis with anal cancer, Fawcett has come to be regarded, not merely as an iconic sex symbol or someone whose high-profile relationship we gawk at in the tabloids, but as a woman dealing bravely with her disease and talking openly about a form of cancer that doesn't get much press. Last month, she presented the documentary Farrah's Story, of which friend Kate Jackson said, Fawcett "didn't do this to show that she is unique, she did it to show that we are all unique... (T)his was...meant to be a gift to others to help and inspire them." As a culture, we tend to want to keep our "sex symbols" just that, and don't like to be confused with nuances. Farrah Fawcett's illness has forced us to regard someone with all the complexity due her, and maybe to think about the value of those "pop culture icons" we take so much for granted. Fawcett's legacy shouldn't be whitewashed of her pop-cultural influence - this was important to defining an era, not to mention fun - but she also forced us to look beyond that, and this was important. It has to be said: may flights of angels sing you, Farrah.

Farrah Fawcett, Sex Symbol And Actress, Dies [CNN]

Farrah Still Has Her Sense Of Humor, Costar Says [NBC]
9 Million Tune In For NBC Special On Fawcett's Cancer fight, 'Farrah's Story' [NYDN]

The Madonna thing came, at first blush, with so much that was good: glad rags, vintage stores, granny sunglasses, costume jewels, trench coats — that Salvation Army insouciance, which, any real student of fashion and culture will tell you, Madonna had just stolen from everyone else. The Madonna thing came with clear directives: Express yourself, be yourself, winner take all.

From street fashion to Vogueing to sexual liberation and religion, Madonna has touched upon a broad range of subjects. But who among us has not? Later came "Madonna as the extremely shrewd CEO of Herself Inc.," writes Stuever; and after that: Madonna and Child. Then, about 10 years ago, Madonna got into Kabbalah. She "became the sort of insufferably enlightened old lady who is only too happy to tell you what she's too good for. She's like those women you run into at play groups and the farmers market, only she is worth $600 million," writes Stuever. He recalls a Madonna concert in which she sang "Imagine" by John Lennon:

"'Please listen to the words of this song,' she ordered us. 'We have to change the world.' She said this as if the audience had never before heard "Imagine" or thought about the lyrics. When you give Madonna your money now, what you're buying is a thrilling opportunity to bask in her audacity: You must listen to me. We must change the planet, together, each one of us. I have to get on my jet now."

Stuever admits that "Madonna is someone you have to hate in order to love." Apparently, part of being a Madonna fan is complaining about how terrible her music is, and then working out to it. And now, beyond the divorce rumors, what's making news is Madonna's face. "Experts are called in, diagrams are made, and nobody seems to say, well, she's 50 you know," Stuever writes. And this is an interesting facet of the Madonna mirror; this will be a tricky chapter in Madonna's book of life: The one in which we realize that if she is no longer the sprightly, mouthy young thing she once was, we must not be either. If we're disappointed in her for not being a perfect, mythological icon — for being (gasp!) human, who do we really have to blame?

The Age Of Madonna: Touched for a Very Long Time [Washington Post]