We like to think of ourselves as svelte, chic, and generally dewy. Because sitting in cubes blogging all day really calls for such glamour, you know. But sometimes we feel as though we can only take so many interactions with the Gossip Girl cast members and models, who subsist on air alone, for all we know. So we were more than a little grateful last night at the opening night of Love, Loss, and What I Wore to have some honest girl talk with proud 30-year-old Natasha Lyonne, who feels our pain and has a pretty good sense of humor about that time she nearly died.
The Ephrons say there’s a big difference between fashion and clothes, and that fashion is only for people under 30. Do you agree?
Yeah, I think I can appreciate that fashion exists for really skinny fucking people, you know, and I need clothing. I mean, I had a moment and it was great. I have lots of free things in the closet and, like, I don’t have to wear them or sell them, and someday maybe I’ll go through another crisis and fit into them again. Who knows? But at this point, I think it’s time for me to, you know, embrace being 30 and not really care so much. I’m not going to lie. Of course I care. I’m a woman, you know. But I think you can still, like, be attractive, and I think maybe things get a little better.
Yeah, it feels like, you know, things are sort of interesting. I wake up in the morning, I expect to see the reflection of a 19-year-old and in fact it’s changed, and that’s a trip. I don’t think there’s much I can do about this. Know what I mean? I don’t think I can really go backwards. So I better come to terms with, you know, that this is the new era.
So having a crisis would be your weight-loss technique?
Look, I don’t know. I’m sure it’s just diet and exercise. I’m sure it is. But, I mean, my priorities are sort of to live a good life. I mean, to sort of learn how to be, you know, a human being and somebody who sort of wants to … participate. Know what I mean? And, you know, to not be such a troublemaker. These are my big goals right now, and fashion is a little secondary on my agenda, you know.
Are you dressing differently as you try to be a responsible adult?
Actually, I did run into my friend who is very fashionable, Tara Subkoff, who I’ve known for many years.
How’s she doing, by the way?
She’s doing all right. She’s not too pleased. She had [her brain tumor] removed, and she’s alive. So that’s the first step. But when I saw her before that surgery, she said, “You know what’s amazing? I don’t think your style has changed since I met you when you were, like, 17 years old.” And I looked down at my combat boots, black tights, black skirt, black overcoat, and was like, “What do you mean? I’m, like, a mature woman now, in my 30s, buddy!” So maybe I haven’t changed as much as I think.
It seems most people move to all-black later in life.
Yeah, I just started earlier.
Did you wear anything significant tonight?
[Shows off bracelets, necklace, brooch, ring] These are my godmother’s. This ring she gave to me. It’s Bulgari. This necklace she gave to me. It’s an original Chanel necklace that had been designed by Coco for the little black dress. I’ve got some serious rocks going on. This little pendant she loaned me. I am not fucking around this evening. They’re not Van Cleef & Arpels. They are Ruth Factor. That’s my godmother.
What’s some memorable advice your mother gave you?
“Get your tits done.” But I did not. That’s what she told me! She said it was going to help my career and “even me out.” Because apparently I have a bigger ass than I should, or something. I didn’t take her up on it, and look at me. Maybe she was probably right. It was probably good advice. The good thing is, it’s never too late. It’s never too late. I might just wait, just to really piss her off, and get it done when it’s really too late anyway. I’ll get them done right before they put me in the casket, just to be like, “You were right!”
And they won’t decompose.
Right! It’ll just be me and my two balloons, and my teeth.