As for her famous mane, Aniston has gladly abandoned the now-classic Rachel layered ‘do (“All I have to say about that, looking back, is, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ ” she says) in favor of this year’s longer, sleeker, blonder look. “Sometimes I lose perspective on how light I’ve actually gone,” she says. “You go out in the sun and suddenly you’re Summer Blond. But it’s fun to change. Michael Canale [in Beverly Hills] highlights my hair so well – he’s got that touch, the natural touch. And if I want to look funky, he won’t do that. For a while I had dead, trashed, burnt hair – they ironed it so much for the show. I’m trying to let them go with my natural wave this season. But I’m always thinking, when I change it a little, am I ready for the beating I’ll take in the press? You never get used to it. It always bruises your ego.”
Despite all the attention that’s been paid to her look, Aniston comes right out and declares that she doesn’t have much style. “I remember thinking ‘couture’ was a designer,” she says. “I thought, wow, this guy is everywhere – on every label! That’s how much I know.”
She has been learning quickly, however. “I’ve worn Prada and Dries Van Noten, and I love Susan Lazar’s clothes – they’re for real people, and accommodate all bodies,” she says. “I like everyday clothes. Even at awards shows, I don’t like feeling like I’m being at all showy. So sometimes for big events I hire a stylist – I’m not great at pulling clothes together in the ‘proper’ way. And you certainly don’t want to piss Joan Rivers off.”
For a second, it seems like she means this. Then she adds, sarcastically, “Now there’s a woman with taste! I stay far away from her. To me, personal style is whatever is the most comfortable. Heels are my nightmare – they make me break into a sweat. I pray for lawn events, so I can wear flats.”
Not that Aniston doesn’t enjoy the occasional shopping spree. “I admit I love clothes,” she says. “And I buy clothes. But they sit in my closet.” Both she and Brad Pitt are unapologetic “homebodies,” she adds. “I like a pair of comfy pants, flip flops and a T-shirt. And when we pick a restaurant, my criteria is: Where can I wear this?”
What about the legions of paparazzi hiding in the bushes, waiting to catch her in the least favorable circumstances?
“Oh, it’s happened where they’ve taken a picture of me looking like a slob,” she says. “I’m used to it. I just give up. You can’t control it. As long as I’m not bending over with my crack showing, I don’t care.”
