Greta Garbo would be 106 years old today. I was always captivated by her, even before I'd seen her movies. I remember splurging on a Rizzoli book of all her most striking images when I was poor as dirt in college (I still have it) and copying many of them in drawings.
Madonna aped her on Island and Debbie Harry (unintentionally?) did so on her Rockbird cover and, well, a million other places. She was not only gorgeous but a great actress and even comedienne.
I hate that she never made a splashy comeback once leaving the screen, especially since it was said she wanted to, and with Marilyn Monroe as a co-star. (Imagine the showmance potential!)
When she was almost a recluse, seeing her image became less fun because she looked like an old bag lady and apparently was battling the bottle. (Dietrich cattily wrote nasty captions on candid images of later-life Garbo that she tore out of magazines.)
I do remember that when she turned 85 my local paper, the Flint Journal, ran a vintage image and noted that she'd been spotted with a young man, implying she still had her powers of seduction even then. As if she wasn't a fabulously selective dyke. Get real, Flint Journal—even 21-year-old college kids knew that.