It’s fair to say Anna Nicole Smith was one of the world’s most famous faces at one point in time.
Shooting to fame in the 1990s, Smith posed for Playboy magazine, before going on to shoot with major brands such as Guess and H&M.
Tragically, as we’ve seen many times before, her fame and fortune would ultimately play a big role in her downfall. Smith died from an accidental drug overdose in 2007, aged 39.
At the time, Smith’s daughter, Dannielynn Birkhead, was only five months old. Many years have passed since then, and though Dannielynn has been kept largely out of the spotlight, she recently stepped out in front of cameras alongside her father, Larry Birkhead, to enjoy the 2023 Kentucky Derby.
Needless to say, people were left stunned by just how much Dannielynn has grown into the spitting image of her late mother…
Anna Nicole Smith became one of the biggest names in the modeling industry after several photoshoots with Playboy. She was eventually signed by William Morris, one of the most distinguished talent agencies in the United States, and went on to appear in modeling campaigns all over the globe.
“I love the paparazzi,” she once told the Washington Post.
“They take pictures, and I just smile away. I’ve always liked the attention. I didn’t get very much growing up, and I always wanted to be, you know, noticed.”
Yet the wild life of glamor, glitz, and fortune took a toll.
Smith’s high-profile relationship with petroleum tycoon J. Howard Marshall is regarded by many as the beginning of her downfall. The 63-year-old age difference between Anna and her elderly husband raised plenty of eyebrows – a lot of people were of the belief that Anna was only interested in Marshall because of his fortune.
The couple married in 1994, but just six months after the ceremony, Marshall fell ill and died aged 90.
Years of controversy followed, with Smith and Marshall’s family locked in a legal battle over his will. The case ultimately went as high as the US Supreme Court in 2006.
Then, in 2007, tragedy struck when Anna Nicole died of an overdose, leaving behind a five-month-old daughter, Dannielynn Birkhead.
In the wake of her famous mother’s death, Dannielynn quickly became one of the most talked-about children in the world. Her early upbringing was engulfed in drama and speculation relating to the identity of her father.
Several men claimed to be the little girl’s dad before a court eventually ordered a paternity test. The test revealed that Anna Nicole’s boyfriend at the time of her death, Larry Birkhead, was in fact Dannielynn’s biological father.
Since then, not much has been seen of Dannielynn. Dad Larry appears to have taken steps to ensure she received as normal an upbringing as possible; she’s been enrolled in a regular school, been in the scouts, and gone to church every Sunday.
Which is likely why Dannielynn turned so many heads at the recent Kentucky Derby, after stepping before cameras on the red carpet alongside her dad.
At the Barnstable Brown Gala that took place ahead of the Derby, the now-16-year-old wore a blouse with photographs of her mom. Larry wore a tie featuring the same images.
“She’s showing off her fashion sense but at the same time paying tribute to her mom,” Larry said. He added that he and Dannielynn had decided to pay tribute to Anna Nicole Smith because it marked the 20th anniversary of the day he had met the model back in 2003. At the time, he was a photographer covering the event.
According to Larry, he’s kept Anna Nicole’s old clothes in storage, and Danielynn sometimes goes through them.
“And everything she has of her mom’s is cataloged in storage, with photos of the event where she wore it,” Larry revealed.
“So someday, she can give them to her kids if she wants to.”
Well, I think it’s safe to say that Danielynn is becoming a true beauty just like her late mother was.
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I Came Home to My Husband and His Ex Digging My Garden, What They Hid Years Ago Made Me Pale
From the start, he was kind and attentive, always willing to listen to me vent about my day, never once distracted by his phone or looking bored. He was everything I thought I needed.
What sealed my affection for him was when he showed up on my doorstep with homemade chicken soup and a collection of my favorite rom-coms. “Everyone needs a little TLC when they’re feeling down,” he said with that charming smile of his.
This is it, I thought. This is the man I’ve been waiting for.
One of the things that endeared Martin to me was his nervous stammer. When he was anxious or stressed, his words would stumble over each other, and I found it adorable. It made him feel more real, more human.
Like the time, a month into our relationship, when he took me to a fancy Italian restaurant for our “monthiversary.” He was passionately explaining the new accounting software at his firm, waving his fork around, when it slipped from his hand, sending tomato sauce all over his shirt. His face turned beet red.
“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, looking mortified. “I d-didn’t m-mean to m-mess up.”
I reached across the table, took his hand, and smiled. “It’s okay. Red suits you.”
He laughed, and the tension melted away. That moment solidified my belief that he was someone I could truly be with.
As our relationship grew, Martin opened up about his past, especially about his ex-wife, Janet. He painted a picture of her as someone constantly chasing more—more money, more status, more things. “Nothing was ever enough for her,” he’d say, shaking his head. Their marriage crumbled under the weight of her demands, according to him.
“I couldn’t keep up with her. It felt like I was drowning, and she just kept pushing me under,” he confessed one night. I vowed I’d never be that way—I would love him for who he was, not for what he could provide.
So, when he proposed a year into our relationship, I didn’t hesitate. Our wedding was intimate and beautiful, and it was the happiest day of my life.
But last Tuesday, everything changed.
I had just returned from visiting my mother and decided to surprise Martin with his favorite lasagna. As I pulled into our driveway, I slammed on the brakes when I saw two figures digging in our garden—Martin and Janet.
For a moment, I thought my eyes were deceiving me. What were they doing together? And why were they destroying my garden?
I stormed out of the car and marched over to them. “What’s going on?” I demanded, anger rising in my voice.
Martin froze, dropping the shovel. “M-M-Margaret! Y-you’re h-home early!” His familiar stammer only confirmed my suspicions—he was hiding something.
All the worst thoughts flooded my mind. Was he cheating? Why was Janet here? Why were they digging up our yard?
“We were just…” Martin began, but Janet interrupted.
“She deserves to know, Martin,” she said, wiping her hands. “We buried a time capsule here, ten years ago.”
“A time capsule?” I echoed in disbelief.
“Yes, from when we lived here together,” Janet explained, gesturing to the metal box at their feet. “We always planned to dig it up someday.”
Martin looked sheepish. “Y-yeah, we thought it’d be fun to reminisce.”
I stood there, stunned. “So, you decided to destroy my garden for your little trip down memory lane?”
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t,” I snapped before walking into the house, slamming the door behind me. Inside, I paced back and forth, trying to wrap my head around what just happened. How could Martin keep this from me? And why on earth would he prioritize his past with Janet over our life together?
I heard the front door open and the sound of hushed voices. Then Martin called out, “Margaret? Can we talk?”
I stepped into the hallway, where they stood with the muddy time capsule between them.
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked coldly.
“Please, let us explain,” Martin pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”
Janet chimed in. “We just wanted to look back. There’s nothing more to it—”
“Fine,” I interrupted. “Go ahead and dig up the past. I’ll be outside.”
I stormed out of the house, feeling a mixture of anger and betrayal. As I looked at the mess they’d made of my garden, an idea formed in my mind.
I gathered wood for a bonfire. By the time the fire was roaring, the sun had set. I could hear Martin and Janet laughing inside, likely over something from the time capsule. I called out, “Why don’t you bring that stuff out here? We could have a bonfire.”
They joined me, bringing the capsule with them. I picked up a handful of its contents—old photos, letters, trinkets. Without hesitation, I tossed them into the flames.
“What are you doing?” Janet gasped.
“Burnt bridges should stay burnt,” I said firmly. “It’s time to focus on the future, not the past.”
As I watched the fire consume their memories, I realized something—Martin wasn’t the perfect man I thought I’d married. He was flawed, just like anyone else.
Janet backed away, her face pale. “I think I should go.”
Neither Martin nor I stopped her as she left. Once we were alone, Martin turned to me with tears in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know how to tell you about the capsule. I was afraid you’d think I still had feelings for Janet. I just wanted to get it done before you came back. I messed up. Can you forgive me?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, staring at the fire. “You’ve broken my trust, Martin. That’s not something you fix overnight.”
“We have a lot to talk about,” I continued. “But not tonight. Tonight, I need some space.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Martin said, defeated, before retreating into the house.
I stayed by the fire as it slowly died down. The garden would need to be replanted. New seeds, new life. Maybe our relationship could be the same.
Only time would tell which path we’d choose. But one thing was certain: Martin would never be the same in my eyes.
What would you have done if you were in my place?
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