"It was the last day of 1985, on an afternoon steeped in that merciless brightness you associate with early winter in the city, and, suddenly, there she was: a bulky fur coat, a knitted watch cap and an unpainted face, as closed as a fist, behind big sunglasses that had no aspiration to trendiness.
If you didn’t know who she was, she was nothing special. She didn’t look chic, not even rich, amid the well-buffed, well-tailored women with big shopping bags and little dogs. But Miss Garbo had on something none of those ladies could afford: She was wearing six decades’ worth of well-documented silence."
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