Not every modeling story has a happy ending. Margaux Hemingway’s life was tumultuous and tragically cut short, but her contributions to fashion remain vital. At the apex of her career, Hemingway’s life seemed impossibly glamorous; as the granddaughter of Ernest Hemingway, she was born into one of America’s best-known families. A tall, striking beauty reminiscent of Grace Kelly, Hemingway quickly became one of New York’s most sought-after models. She was a regular at Studio 54 in the heyday of the storied club, rubbing shoulders with the glitterati, partying with the likes of Mick Jagger, Halston, and Liza Minnelli. Breaking records when she snagged the first million-dollar modeling contract (with Faberge’s fragrances), Hemingway wasn’t just a face, she was the face. In the ’70s her image was everywhere: on Vogue covers, on ad campaigns, in the media. International celebrity was suddenly a part of Hemingway’s life, all before she hit 21. From the outside looking in, it seemed like she was living the dream.
The truth was far more complicated. Hemingway struggled with eating disorders, alcohol, and depression. Though in awe of the many people she met as a result of modeling, she never fully connected to the jet-setting crowd she was a part of. Even at the height of her fame, she preferred to describe herself as a simple girl from Idaho, rather than the strange new term supermodel. “For me, becoming a celebrity was like being in the eye of a hurricane,” Hemingway told People back in 1988. “Suddenly, I was an international cover girl. Everybody was lapping up my Hemingwayness [. . .] It sounds glamorous, and it was. I was having a lot of fun. But I was also very naive when I came on the scene. I genuinely thought that people liked me for myself—for my humor and good qualities. I never expected to meet so many professional leeches.”
The pitfalls of fame are well-documented and Hemingway’s experiences shine a light on many issues the modeling industry would rather gloss over: namely, that being the girl of the moment doesn’t necessarily equal happiness; that, in her line of work, even great success can be incredibly fleeting; and yes, those leeches—the people looking to take advantage. After two failed marriages, a critically panned film career, and time in rehab, Hemingway died tragically in 1996 at just 42, a cautionary tale for the industry, particularly in light of her remarkable talent. Her ability in front of the camera was evident from day one, and her subsequent work with photographers like Francesco Scavullo, Oliviero Toscani, and Douglas Kirkland show a beauty at the height of her powers. Radiant, vulnerable, and capable of filling even a simple image with emotion, Hemingway’s legacy lives on in every timeless photo shoot she helped to create.