In 1966, Lynn became an international sensation playing the title role in Georgy Girl. At a time when the “dolly bird” (the thin, mod, hyper-glamorous girl) was the aesthetic standard, Redgrave’s Georgy was the “ugly duckling.” She played a character who felt awkward and “plain” next to her roommate (played by Charlotte Rampling). Georgy was independent, free-thinking, and more interested in her own integrity than fitting into a mini-skirt. The film was such a hit that Lynn was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress. In a legendary bit of family history, she was up against her sister, Vanessa Redgrave, that same year.

Following her success, she starred in Smashing Time (1967), a vibrant, slapstick satire of the very “Swinging London” scene she helped define. Teaming up with Rita Tushingham, she played a girl from the North trying to make it as a “Mod” superstar. It’s a time capsule of 1960s fashion: outlandish sunglasses, PVC coats, and pop-art sets.

In the 1960s, Lynn’s look was defined by her expressive, wide eyes and what TIME magazine called a “sparkling sanity.” Often seen in shift dresses, textured knits, and voluminous hair, she projected a “natural” vibe that felt approachable compared to the era’s more detached fashion icons. Much of her 1960s narrative involved navigating her identity as the “youngest Redgrave.” She often spoke about feeling like the “plump” sibling, a sentiment she channeled into her relatable, “down-to-earth” performances.

On a $3/day budget, the future PBS fixture traversed Europe through the gutter. He remembers most vividly “the fear and thrill of being over there with no safety net,” nobody even knew where he was.

“Here I am, heading off to Europe the day after high school graduation in 1973 — with a budget of $3 a day, a ten-week Eurail pass in my pocket, and the biggest backpack I could find, jam-packed. I came home with no money, a malnourished body, and an enduring love of Europe.”

Since that 1973 trip, he has spent roughly 120 days a year in Europe, about a third of his adult life living out of a suitcase. That first solo journey essentially launched everything: the guidebooks, the PBS series, the tour company, and his lifelong philosophy of immersive, budget-conscious travel.

In the 1940s, it was a common publicity practice for Hollywood studios to release holiday-themed pin-up portraits of their starlets to keep them in the public eye.

For St. Patrick’s Day, these “cheesecake” photos typically featured actresses like Maureen O’Hara, Maureen O’Sullivan, and Angela Greene posing with festive props or in themed attire. While many of these portraits were in black and white, they often showcased dresses with bold shamrock prints or accompanying giant shamrock cutouts to signal the holiday.

Armstrong was in the USSR for a 10-day tour following his Apollo 11 mission. He visited the Gagarin Cosmonaut Training Center in Star City on June 1, where he was hosted by Valentina Tereshkova.

During an evening reception, Beregovoy and Popovich presented the 12-gauge, side-by-side shotgun. Beregovoy humorously noted it was a tool for “hunting on Earth, not on the Moon.” The stock was inscribed with Armstrong’s name in Cyrillic script. Despite strict regulations on gifts from foreign governments, the U.S. government permitted Armstrong to keep the firearm.

Though the two nations remained fierce rivals in space technology, their astronauts often shared deep professional admiration. The exchange foreshadowed later cooperation between the United States and the Soviet Union, culminating in the Apollo–Soyuz Test Project of 1975, when astronauts and cosmonauts worked together in orbit for the first time.

Neil Armstrong’s 1970 visit to the USSR included a trip to Leningrad and the Baikonur Cosmodrome, where he met Soviet engineers and viewed the spacecraft that had carried Gagarin into orbit in 1961. The exchange was a rare moment of camaraderie during the Cold War. In return, Armstrong presented Soviet Premier Aleksey Kosygin with Moon rock fragments and a Soviet flag that had flown on Apollo 11. The shotgun remained in Armstrong’s private collection until it was auctioned by Heritage Auctions in 2019.