Cher’s journey from the unknown to establishing her distinct place as a multitalented icon is nothing short of exciting. In addition to redefining music and ruling the world of music for nearly six decades, she has challenged the norms and expectations, building a persona unlike any other.
From being fun and full of surprises to exuberating boldness and brilliance—Cher’s journey to success has been both unconventional and exceptional. Moreover, she has used fashion as a form of self-expression, unapologetically conveying her somewhat complex personal style.
Despite her age, the “After All” singer’s revealing style has remained unchanged. Her choice of seemingly inappropriate outfits has kept her in the spotlight for years. At the 2017 Billboard Music Awards, she rocked a body-baring, heart-shaped pasties outfit made from beaded threads.
Cher topped her look with a platinum wig, looking snug and happy in her bold beaded dress. Interestingly, everyone adored her style, and she also bagged the Icon Award, which later gave her a chance to share an emotional acceptance speech.
While reflecting on her journey in the music arena for over 50 years at the time, Cher echoed what her mom told her when she was a young girl:
“You’re not going to be the smartest, you’re not going to be the prettiest, you’re not going to be the most talented, but you’re going to be special.’”
Taking the conversation further, the “If I Could Turn Back Time” star noted how her style statement throughout her career had been unique, despite being dubbed outrageous, distinct, and against the rule books.
To anyone wondering how she pulled off such a revealing dress for her age, the then-71-year-old responded, “I can do a five-minute plank.”
Despite going strong in her 70s, Cher has received immense criticism for her looks. In 2019, a user called the songstress “too old to dress like a [20-year-old].”
In 2014, a second user slammed her for looking ugly in her purple dress, saying she needed to wear something longer. “Cher looks like an ugly Ozzy,” commented another user.
She has reportedly been dubbed as the poster girl for cosmetic procedures.
Besides being criticized, the “Moonstruck” alum has also received supportive comments from fans. “THIS is cher! she looks her age, beautiful and happy. there’s nothing wrong with looking like you’ve lived [sic],” stated one user on Twitter.
When Cher posted her mother’s picture on social media in June 2022, many drew similarities between the two women. She is beautiful. She is beautiful at her age now!” wrote a fan. Another netizen commended the pop star, adding, “Looks beautiful for any age and she is already doing her job fabulously.”
For Cher, the world of glitz and glam has also pressured her to remain young and relevant in her field. She has reportedly been dubbed as the poster girl for cosmetic procedures.
When asked if she normalized the trend, the singer immediately pointed out how she had seen girls as young as 18 want to change their appearance. She said she didn’t comprehend why people held her responsible for something which had been trending for a long time.
“If you’re no good at what you do, people don’t care what you look like,” answered Cher when asked if cosmetic treatments had prolonged her career. She noted how people didn’t pay money to look at someone and attached much more importance to someone’s performance.
Despite admitting to feeling exhausted and drained, the “Burlesque” alum said her voice had never been better. She also stated how she had worked diligently to build her body strength, adding that even 20-year-old girls couldn’t do what she did.
While commenting on an American tabloid newspaper constantly suggesting she was on the brink of death, Cher appeared shocked and confused. During her response to the somewhat queer question, she said she was unsure why they thought she was dying when she had never felt that way.
Cher is also excellent at monitoring her diet and is a fan of healthy eating except for her love for chocolate. She also credits working out and exercising to her gorgeous appearance and agelessness.
So, how does the “All or Nothing” singer maintain her lovely figure while adding more years to her life? She once shared how she works twice as hard and loves being in the gym as much as possible. Cher said she was a tomboy in her youth and loved playing sports.
Owing to her sporty attitude, Cher also learned to surf and said she loved embarking on adventures. The Oscar-winning diva has a few simple beauty tips which have helped her remain an elegant beauty over the years.
Her secrets to staying fit, active, healthy, and of course, ageless include saying no to drinking, smoking, and drugs. In addition to understanding the importance of mindful eating and adopting a vegetarian diet, Cher confessed she rarely drank and never did drugs.
Cher once rated Cruise among her top five lovers, and the duo’s relationship amassed immense popularity back in the day, despite the “Jerry Maguire” actor being 16 years her junior.
The “Baby Don’t Go” star explained how she had always considered drinking and drugs unhealthy. While she admitted to smoking cigarettes for some time, she quickly bounced back and steered clear of anything that contradicted her taste.
Being the superstar she is, Cher’s health continues to worry her fans from time to time, mainly in the wake of her advancing age. In 2021, she had to cancel some of her concerts after contracting a mysterious illness.
Heeding her doctor’s advice, Cher, then 75, took some time to rest and recover and kept her loyal fan base updated about her health through regular social media updates.
Known for entertaining the audience, staying relevant, and serving style goals despite her age, the Emmy-winning star was shattered to cancel some of her shows. During her “Dressed To Kill” tour, she was said to have fallen ill with a severe virus affecting her kidneys and voice box.
At the time, Cher had to cancel her mega show’s second half because she appeared too unwell to perform. However, despite her health scares, she has managed to stay fit and healthy, determined to keep her fans entertained with her mesmerizing performances.
Cher’s age has never deterred her from chasing her dreams. In addition to reveling in continued success and fame, she had had an exciting love life. In November 2022, the “Love and Understanding” singer went public with her relationship to Alexander “AE” Edwards, 40 years her junior.
When photos of the hot duo circulated on social media, many fans warned Cher about her then-boyfriend’s past. But sources reported that the Grammy-winning musician was unswayed by the online chatter, and she couldn’t care less about the skepticism surrounding her relationship.
Despite the undue media and public scrutiny, Cher seemed to enjoy the attention, reportedly adding that she and her then-beau shared something extraordinary, making her feel sexy and full of life.
The same source shared that Cher had always had a thing for younger men, and her relationship with Edwards was no different than her previous connections. But what made it stand out from the “Bang Bang” star’s prior romances was how it made her feel and her confidence to take it public.
In December 2022, Cher posted a picture of her pear-shaped diamond ring on Twitter, triggering the romance rumor mill. The “Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again” alum wrote how she wished her late mom, Georgia Holt, could witness her happiness and gorgeous ring.
She mentioned how her mother loved diamonds and would have been ecstatic to share her daughter’s happiness. Later, Cher said she had posted the ring’s photo because she wished to flaunt her then-boyfriend’s fabulous nails.
The pop star’s romance with Edwards isn’t the only one that gained widespread media attention. In the past, she’s dated Hollywood A-listers, including Richie Sambora, Elvis Presley, Tom Cruise, and several others.
Cher once rated Cruise among her top five lovers, and the duo’s relationship amassed immense popularity back in the day, despite the “Jerry Maguire” actor being 16 years her junior.
She has been married twice: she wed Sonny Bono in 1964, and they divorced in 1975. They share a son, Chaz Bono. Unfortunately, Sonny died in 1998. Later, in 1975, she tied the knot with Gregg Allman, but the duo divorced three years later. Allman passed away in 2017, and the duo share a son, Elijah.
Despite the rumors that Cher and Edwards were engaged, sources close to the couple confirmed that they had gone their separate ways after just six months of dating. It was also revealed that the pair were never engaged, and Cher’s ring was merely a gift from her ex-lover.
Regardless, the duo was said to be incredibly close, and Edwards’ son loved spending time at Cher’s Malibu residence. Their romance and brief relationship were believed to be real and special, and despite their decision to call it quits, they were said to be on friendly terms.
Although Cher has been slammed off and on for her revealing style, she continues to exuberate class and confidence while showing off her slim figure, proving that age is just a number!
I Thought I Knew My Mother Until a Hidden Birth Bracelet Revealed a Different Story – Story of the Day
I thought I knew everything about my mother until I found a birth bracelet in the attic. Not mine. The name on it revealed a secret that shattered my reality and sent me searching for the truth.
After my father’s death, the bond between my mother and me had frayed. With her Alzheimer’s erasing pieces of her every day, it felt as if I were navigating a maze of memories that weren’t entirely mine. The decision to place her in a care facility weighed on me like a lead blanket.
“It’s what’s best,” I whispered to myself, though the words felt hollow.
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I wasn’t equipped to give her the care she needed, but the guilt gnawed at me all the same.
Packing up her belongings was part of the process, though it felt more like dismantling her life piece by piece. I climbed the narrow steps to the attic and knelt by the nearest box, brushing away cobwebs before opening.
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I expected the usual: old photo albums or yellowed papers she hadn’t used in years. Instead, my hand froze as I pulled out a small, yellowed hospital bracelet.
The text on it blurred as I reread the name over and over:
“Baby Boy Williams, 12-15-83, Claire W.”
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My fingers trembled as I reached back into the box. There was a delicate baby blanket with the initials “C.W.” stitched into one corner. Beneath it was a black-and-white photo of my mother holding a baby. She looked impossibly young, her face glowing with love.
The back read: “My Collin, Winter 1983.”
I stared at the photo.
Collin? Who are you? My brother? And where are you now?
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***
I brought the bracelet and photo downstairs, holding them so tightly my knuckles turned white. My mother was in her favorite armchair, her frail frame almost swallowed by the oversized cushions. She stared out the window, her expression serene. To anyone else, she might have looked calm, at peace even. But I knew better. That stillness masked the fog of Alzheimer’s, the disease that had stolen so much of her mind.
“Mom,” I said softly, walking over and kneeling beside her. “I need to ask you something.” I placed the bracelet and photo on her lap, watching her eyes flicker toward them. For a brief moment, I thought I saw recognition in her gaze, but it passed as quickly as it came.
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Her fingers brushed over the photo, and she muttered something under her breath. “Sunlight… warm… chocolate cake,” she said, her words drifting into nonsense. “The flowers were so pretty that day.”
I felt my chest tighten. “Mom, please,” I urged, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Who is Collin? Why didn’t you ever tell me about him?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she rambled about a cat we never owned and a picnic that may or may not have happened. My hope started to crumble.
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I sank onto the floor beside her, exhausted. The bracelet and photo were still on her lap, untouched. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady myself. Then, she spoke again, her voice clear and soft, like a distant echo of the mother I used to know.
“It was a winter morning,” she began, her gaze fixed on something I couldn’t see. “The sun was shining through the window. I named him Collin.”
My breath caught. I stayed silent, afraid to break whatever fragile thread had surfaced in her memory.
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“He was beautiful,” she whispered. “But his father took him away. Said it was for the best.”
Her words hit me like a wave. “His father?” I whispered. “Who is he? Why did he take Collin?”
Before I could ask more, her clarity slipped away. Her eyes clouded, and she began repeating, “The Bread Basket… The Bread Basket…”
“What does that mean, Mom?” I pressed gently, but she only repeated it like a mantra.
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***
I couldn’t stop thinking about Collin. I decided to go to the hospital where I was born, the only one in the city. My mother’s memory was unreliable, but being in a familiar place could trigger something.
“We’re going to the hospital where Collin was born,” I told her as I helped her into the car.
She looked at me, her expression distant. “Hospital? Why?”
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“You mentioned Collin before, remember? I need to know more about him.”
Her hands fidgeted in her lap. “Collin… I don’t know if I remember.”
“It’s okay,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “Maybe being there will help.”
The drive was quiet, apart from her occasional murmurs.
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“Sunlight… winter mornings,” she whispered, staring out the window. “He had the softest blanket…”
When we arrived, the hospital looked just as I remembered it from my childhood—small, with its faded brick exterior and slightly overgrown bushes by the entrance. I helped Mom out of the car, and her eyes scanned the building as though trying to place it.
Inside, I explained our visit to the receptionist, who directed us to Dr. Miller, the head doctor.
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“Dr. Miller,” I began, once we were seated in her office, “I found this bracelet and photo. My mother… She had a son, Collin, two years before me. I need to know what happened.”
Dr. Miller examined the bracelet and photo, her expression softening.
“I remember Claire,” she said, looking at my mother. “She was so young when she had Collin.”
My mother shifted uncomfortably in her chair but said nothing.
“What happened to him?” I asked, leaning forward.
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Dr. Miller sighed. “Collin’s father came back into the picture after he was born, much older than Clarie. He wasn’t her boyfriend at the time, but someone from her past. He wanted to raise the baby himself.”
My mother’s head turned slightly, her eyes narrowing as if trying to follow the conversation.
“Claire was devastated,” Dr. Miller continued. “She loved Collin, but the boy’s father took Collin when he was just a few months old. He wrote to me for a while, asking for advice on caring for Collin. Then the letters stopped. But I do remember him mentioning he planned to move to another town.”
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“What town?” I asked quickly.
Dr. Miller jotted it down on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Here. It’s about five hours from here.”
“Thank you,” I said, standing up. “This means so much to me.”
As we left, I couldn’t stop thinking about driving to that town. My brother Collin existed and I was determined to find him.
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***
The journey felt like an eternity, not just because of the five-hour drive but because every minute required my full attention. My Mom lost in her fragmented world, needed constant reminders and gentle guidance.
“Is it time to eat?” she asked, even after finishing a sandwich minutes earlier.
I patiently offered her small snacks, unwrapping them as though presenting a gift.
At one point, she handed me a yogurt with a puzzled expression. “How do you open this?”
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I smiled, peeling back the foil lid. “Like this, Mom. Just like you showed me when I was little.”
As I handed it back, a wave of emotion hit me. I remembered her delicate hands guiding mine as a child, showing me how to hold a spoon, tie my shoes, and even fold paper into makeshift airplanes. Back then, her patience seemed infinite.
Somewhere along the way, that connection had slipped away. But at that moment, it was as though the roles were reversed.
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We finally arrived in the quiet, sleepy town. It was like stepping into a picture from decades ago—small storefronts, weathered buildings, and not a soul on the streets.
I stepped out and stretched, glancing around with uncertainty.
“Where is everyone?” I muttered, more to myself than to my mother.
A passing man overheard and pointed down the road. “Town fair. Everyone’s there. You should check it out.”
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The fair seemed like the best place to start. If Collin lived in that town, he might be among the crowds. I helped my mother out of the car, her grip firm on my arm as we walked toward the colorful booths.
The scent of caramelized sugar and fried food filled the air, blending with the lively hum of laughter.
But as we moved deeper into the fairgrounds, my mother began to grow restless. Her voice, usually so soft, rose with urgency.
“The Bread Basket… The Bread Basket…” she repeated almost pleading.
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I stopped, kneeling slightly to face her. “What is it, Mom?”
Before she could answer, a vendor overheard and chimed in with a smile.
“Oh, The Bread Basket? That’s the bakery just down the street. Great choice!”
My heart skipped. That was it. With renewed energy, I guided my mother down the street to a quaint shop with a hand-painted sign that read “The Bread Basket.” The scent of freshly baked bread, cinnamon, and butter wrapped around us as we entered.
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At the counter, I asked cautiously, “Do you know anyone named Collin?”
The worker smiled knowingly. “Collin? He’s the owner. Let me get him for you.”
A moment later, a man emerged, wiping his hands on an apron. He was taller than I’d imagined, with a sturdy build and quiet confidence. But it was his eyes. Deep and familiar—they were my mother’s eyes.
For a moment, none of us spoke. Collin studied me with curiosity, and I felt the weight of the years and secrets between us.
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“My name is Mia, and this is my mother, Claire. I found a birth bracelet with your name on it among her things.”
Collin stared at me, his brow furrowing. “My name? From her?”
I nodded, feeling his confusion. My mother stirred beside me.
“David… The Bread Basket… He always said there’s nothing better than a basket of bread,” she murmured. “He promised me he’d name his bakery that one day.”
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Collin froze. “My God. David is my father.”
We moved to a small corner table, where I explained everything—the birth bracelet, the fragments of the story my mother had shared, and the path that had led me here.
Collin listened intently, his gaze flickering between me and our mother.
“It was his dream,” Collin finally said. “The Bread Basket… it was everything to him. And now, it’s mine too.”
The pieces began to align in my mind. The bakery was a connection that had survived decades of silence.
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We visited David the next day. Though frail, his eyes lit up the moment he saw my mother, a glow of warmth and shared memories filling the room. He took her hand gently, their bond needing no words.
“I thought it was best for everyone,” he said softly, his voice heavy with regret.
As the days passed, I watched them reconnect. I decided to stay, moving close to Collin’s bakery to help him and care for my mother.
For the first time, our family felt whole. Love had found its way back, stronger than ever.
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