Most of April Ashley’s 86 years were the hard going of a pioneer’s life, with repeated rejection and scandal-blighted reverses. But she never regretted the day in 1960 when she risked her life to become her true self through gender realignment surgery, among the earliest to undertake such a thing. The operation cost her prolonged pain, besides a difficult-to-raise £2,500, but in old age she said that every morning there was “still a bit of joy left” at the memory of the transformation. As to tough times: “Chins up … be as brave as you can.”
Her beauty, instinctual style and understanding of the artifice of glamour pre-dated the surgery. After it, she briefly had chances as a model, projecting a 1950s soignee manner animated by a new naughtiness; she had an aristo voice and native scouse wit, too. David Bailey, Brian Duffy and Terences Donovan and O’Neill photographed her, even in lingerie; she didn’t hide who she was and how she had become so, and they didn’t care, as Ashley delivered a great picture. She updated her image through life – kook, 60s socialite, private-life professional, and in her late years, carefully edited duchess. Few have ever carried off with grace the gown and squishy headgear of an academic honour, but she did.
