Twins on Television

It's official - this little girl is all grown up. I know it because at a party last week, a friend told me how much an actress on 'Bones' reminds her of me, and a bunch of complete strangers agreed.

Well it was actually a bit more complicated than that, because it took everyone a while to figure out which forensic procedural they meant - 'NCIS' and the various 'CSI's came up, but in the end it proved that Micheala Conlin, who plays Angela on 'Bones' was the doppelganger in question.

I am so flattered.

Not because Conlin is beautiful, which she is, or even because she's sort of famous, or because the character she plays is smart. I'm flattered because Conlin is not Lacey Chabert.
It's official - this little girl is all grown up. I know it because at a party last week, a friend told me how much an actress on 'Bones' reminds her of me, and a bunch of complete strangers agreed.

Well it was actually a bit more complicated than that, because it took everyone a while to figure out which forensic procedural they meant - 'NCIS' and the various 'CSI's came up, but in the end it proved that Micheala Conlin, who plays Angela on 'Bones' was the doppelganger in question.

I am so flattered.

Not because Conlin is beautiful, which she is, or even because she's sort of famous, or because the character she plays is smart. I'm flattered because Conlin is not Lacey Chabert.

For the entire run of 'Party of Five' I had similar run-ins at parties, where some acquaintance would say I reminded them of an actress, you know that girl on 'Party of Five'. A little piece of my heart would desperately hope they meant Neve Campbell, or even Jennifer Love Hewitt, but alas no. As a young woman, I was a dead ringer in both appearance and tone of voice for Claudia Salinger.

But at least I've always looked like someone on TV. The only thing worse than being told you'd fit right into the Salinger household is being told you don't look like anyone famous. You know how it is, one of these conversations get started, and then everyone turns to one eager friend who asks 'What about me, who do I look like?' and no one has an answer. It sounds like people are saying you aren't good-looking - which is nonsense of course. It could be worse: they could be telling you you look like Joe Pesci.

Maybe this sort of thing runs in families. My Mom looks like quite a few famous people. Depending on how she's worn her hair over the years, she's gotten Tina Turner, Joni Mitchell and Barbra Streisand. But her true TV twin was CBC's Barbara Frum. When Frum died in 1992, I grieved as many Canadians did, but my grief felt personal, as if I was watching a tribute to a version of my own mother. That's a heavy thing to say, I know - and if the two women only looked alike, I'd say it was downright weird. But Frum's career and my Mom's weren't so different - they were both radio broadcasters, and I know my Mom admired her.

More recently, I had a TV run-in with my Dad. A few weeks ago, I urged all of you to watch 'Lie to Me' (I'm sorry about that) and felt I could only do the same myself. The show is awful, really - but Tim Roth is doing a dead-on impersonation of my father on that show. I don't know if that's his real accent or if he's tweaked it for the role, but he sounds like he grew up next door to my father. Add a few mannerisms and word choices to the pot, and I ended up watching an entire episode in complete fascination (which I had to explain to my sweetheart, since he was watching the show too, and couldn't understand what had me so captivated.)

Tim Roth, Barbara Frum, Micheala Conlin - these are all respectable and somewhat obscure look-a-likes. Easy enough on the eyes to get work, but not so attractive that it defines them. Imagine if you looked uncannily like Jessica Simpson.

This is the scenario my best friend must live with. For years and years she was just beautiful. Well, I mean, she was smart and funny and beautiful, but I mean that her beauty was her own. Then sometime in 2003, when I looked at her, I'd feel this niggling sense of recognition. 'She's looks like someone', I'd think. But I could never place who. Maybe because my friend is so different from Jessica Simpson in her manner it took me awhile to pin it down. But when she smiles, it is unmistakable. She is a thin, dark-haired version of the ex- Mrs. Lachey. I never told her, though. She'd smile, and the words would bubble up to the surface and I would clamp down on them. "You look like...you could use a drink!", I'd cover.

Then, a few months ago, we were having a serious conversation about hair. She was thinking of going blonde.

"I don't know," she said. "It's a lot of upkeep. And... well, there's another thing."

"Yes?" I answered.

"Some people say I look like like Jessica Simpson. If I was blonde...but you don't think I look like her, do you?"

It was an intense moment. But I told her the truth.

"You remind me of Audrey Hepburn," I said.

Hey, looks aren't everything.