Fаns саll Gоldiе Наwn, 78, ‘ugly’ in swimsuit рhоtоs, Kurt Russеll dеfеnds hеr, sаys shе’s bеаutiful

With an unmatched amount of self-assurance, Goldie Hawn never lets her admirers down with her elegance, even in the face of hateful comments from the internet.

The performer, who acknowledges that “there’s a certain reality” for aging Hollywood stars, does not let the insults and derogatory remarks from trolls bother her.

Given that she is one of the most well-known actors in the business and that Kurt Russell is smitten with her, it should come as no surprise that the 78-year-old seems unfazed.

Discover why Goldie Hawn is being criticized harshly online by reading on!

Goldie Hawn is a formidable woman, leading a famous family that includes the well-known actors Oliver (47), Kate Hudson (45), and Wyatt Russell (37).

Hawn’s girl-next-door charm earned her prominent parts in movies including Private Benjamin (1980), Overboard (1987) with Kurt Russell, with whom she has been in a relationship since 1983, and Stephen Spielberg’s The Sugarland Express (1972).

Photo agency Shutterstock/Featureflash

Before meeting the now 73-year-old Russell, Hawn went through two divorces. In 2007, she explained their decision to forgo marriage to Woman’s Day, saying, “We have done just perfectly without marrying.” I already feel committed, and isn’t that the whole point of marriage?

Additionally, Kate, who received a Golden Globe nomination for her role in Almost Famous, maintains that the two are a perfect match.

“Mom is a butterfly and she moves quickly. Pa also enjoys his house and his family. But, Hudson says of her mother and stepfather—who also have an actor for a son—”When they’re together, it’s so powerful.”

Contents
It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
“Belongs in a nursing home.”
“So adorable together”
Contents
It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
“Belongs in a nursing home.”
“So adorable together”
It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
With her renowned golden locks remaining natural, the Oscar-winning Hawn remains attractive even after over fifty years of acting and raising three children.

“Aging is a natural part of life. Living intentionally helps you recognize that life is full of transformations, which you simply have to go through, the celebrity told People. “You know what, it’s great that you’re getting older? It means you’re still alive!”

However, she is well aware of the ageism that permeates the field and its supporters.

Shutterstock is credited.

Regarding the ageism present in Hollywood, Hawn stated that women will always fight this war.

Do you really believe that you will oppose the system? When you turn forty-five, you believe you’re going to show Hollywood that you’re still a desirable, marketable object? No. A specific world exists,” Hawn informs Bazaar. Does it infuriate me? No. I don’t get irritated easily. I’m not an extremist. Anger is a useless emotion. It isn’t beneficial.

The First Wives Club actress accepts her advanced age, but she is unable to avoid the barrage of abuse that surfaces on social media.

“Belongs in a nursing home.”
The happy couple took a little trip to Greece in 2022, where they were seen having a great time by the sea in a number of pictures.

While her leading guy wore a basic pair of black and white board shorts, Hawn looked stylish in a black and white polka dot sundress over a one-piece black swimming suit.

Off the coast of Skiathos, Greece, the grandparents, who appeared to be in their honeymoon phase, slipped into a speedboat and rode through the crystal-clear Aegean Sea.

The internet community аttасked the stunning blonde and her charming beau without holding back, instead of praising the couple for their self-assurance and undying love.

“They appear as though they belong in a retirement community. They both appear really ancient, and while I can appreciate that they are older, [it] seems likе they didn’t age well,” a critic remarks.

Another says, “No, not attractive,” while a third writes, “Can you think of a famous person who is naturally ugly? Goldie Hawn.

“OMG-Goldie Hawn will give me nightmares with what she has done with her face,” says another.

“So adorable together”
Many fans stood up for the couple, who most recently made an appearance together as Mr. and Mrs. Claus in The Christmas Chronicles franchise, because of their love.

Someone says, “She looks good.There will be trolls there as well, however they won’t appear as nice.

Outstanding given your age. A considerate netizen writes, “Loving each other still is testament to your commitment to each of you.”

“They are so adorable together right now, that’s what love is all about, growing older together Goldie is as gorgeous as ever,” writes someone else.

But Hawn’s lifelong girlfriend has the sweetest things to say.

“We were planning to go out to dinner the other night. “You’re unbelievable,” he says as he looks at me, the Snatched star recalls. “It’s unbelievable how [beautiful] you look,” he exclaimed.

Shutterstock is credited.

Furthermore, Hawn described the 2017 ceremony that saw the two actors receive their individual stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame as a “lovefest.”

Following their kiss beside their side-by-side stars at the ceremony, Russell addressed his stunning companion and said, “To you, I owe my amazing life…To put it simply, Goldie, I love you. That is far more impressive than all the stars in the sky or on the boulevard combined. “Goldie Hawn is the only person I’d rather be next to for all of that,” he said.

How does 78-year-old Goldie Hawn seem to you? Kindly shаrе this story with others and shаrе your comments with us so that we can hear from others as well!

Little Girl is Caught Stealing, but When the Cashier Learns Why, She Makes an Unthinkable Decision — Story of the Day

Claire never expected a simple theft to shake her to the core—until she caught a child sneaking out with a sandwich. But when she saw the tiny candle flicker on top, heard the whispered birthday song, her heart ached. This wasn’t just shoplifting. It was survival. And Claire had a choice to make.

I stood behind the counter at Willow’s Market, the small corner store where I had worked for the past four years.

The scent of fresh bread lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of cinnamon from the bakery section.

It was a comforting smell, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a cold morning. The store had that effect—cozy, familiar, a little worn around the edges but full of heart.

I ran my fingers along the edge of a shelf, straightening the jars of homemade jam. Every item had its place, and I made sure of it.

Keeping the store neat wasn’t just part of the job; it was my way of showing I cared.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Beside the register, I had placed a small box filled with handwritten notes—each one carrying a simple kind wish for the customers.

Little things like, “Hope today brings you something good” or “You’re stronger than you think.”

Some people ignored them, some smiled politely, and a few—especially the older customers—tucked them into their pockets like tiny treasures.

It was something small, but it made people smile. And that mattered to me.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Just as I finished organizing the checkout area, the front door swung open sharply, making the hanging bells jingle too hard.

The sudden noise sent a jolt through me.

Logan.

I sighed internally.

Logan was the son of the store’s owner, Richard, and he had zero interest in keeping the store alive.

He wanted something more profitable—a liquor store, maybe, or a vape shop.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Something that would bring in fast cash, not the slow, steady kind of business his father had built over the years.

But Richard had refused, saying the community needed a place like Willow’s Market. And Logan? Well, he didn’t take no very well.

Logan sneered as he scanned the store, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive coat.

It was too nice for a place like this—black wool, probably designer, the kind of thing that didn’t belong near dusty shelves and wooden counters.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“How’s it going, Claire?” His voice was casual, but there was something sharp beneath it, like a blade hidden under silk.

I straightened, forcing a polite tone. “We’re doing well. I opened early today to get everything ready.”

His sharp blue eyes flicked toward the counter. Right at my box of notes.

He reached for one, lifting it with two fingers as if it were something dirty.

“What the hell is this?” he scoffed, reading aloud. “Enjoy the little things? What kind of sentimental garbage is this?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Before I could respond, he tossed the note onto the floor and, with one careless sweep of his arm, knocked over the entire box.

The papers fluttered like wounded birds, scattering across the wooden floor.

My stomach tightened.

I knelt quickly, gathering them up with careful hands. “It’s just something nice for customers,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

“This is a business,” Logan snapped.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Not a therapy session. If you wanna play philosopher, do it somewhere else. This store already isn’t making much money.”

His words hit like a slap, but I refused to react.

“It’s your father’s store,” I reminded him, standing up, my fingers curling around the handful of notes I had managed to pick up.

His jaw ticked. “For now,” he muttered, voice lower this time. Then he leaned in, just enough for me to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“And you work here for now,” he added, his voice dripping with warning. “One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”

His words sat heavy in the air between us, thick with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about my notes.

Then, just like that, he turned and left. The bell above the door clanged behind him, the sound sharp and jarring.

I stood there, my heart pounding, watching the scattered notes on the floor.

I had spent time writing each one, hoping they might bring someone a moment of comfort. But in the end, they were just paper to him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I took a deep breath, willing my hands to stop shaking.

Then, slowly, I knelt back down and started picking them up again.

Later that afternoon, I stood behind the register, absently smoothing my apron as I watched Mrs.

Thompson count out coins with careful fingers. She was one of our regulars, always buying the same things—fresh bread and a small packet of tea.

The store was quiet, the golden afternoon light slanting through the front windows. Outside, cars rolled by lazily, and a few people walked past, chatting about their day.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Thompson finally gathered the right amount and placed the small stack of coins on the counter with a satisfied nod.

“You know, dear,” she said, looking up at me with her warm, wrinkled smile, “this store is the best thing in the neighborhood. I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

Her words eased something tight in my chest. I hadn’t realized how tense I’d been since Logan’s visit. His voice still echoed in my head, sharp and full of warning.

“One more mistake, Claire, and you’ll be looking for a new job.”

I forced a smile. “That means a lot, Mrs. Thompson. Really.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She patted my hand with the softness only age could bring. “Don’t let that boy get to you,” she said knowingly.

Before I could respond, movement near the sandwich shelf caught my eye. A small figure in an oversized hoodie hovered there, their head ducked low, fingers twitching at their sides.

Something about the way they moved—too hesitant, too jumpy—made my stomach tighten.

I glanced back at Mrs. Thompson. She was tucking her tea into her purse, humming to herself.

I turned back to the hooded figure.

“Excuse me!” I called, stepping out from behind the register. “Can I help you find something?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The kid’s head snapped up, and for a split second, wide brown eyes locked onto mine. Then—

They bolted.

In one swift movement, they spun toward the door, their sneakers skidding slightly on the worn floorboards.

A small shape vanished into their pocket as they pushed past the door, setting the hanging bells into a frantic jingle.

My stomach dropped.

I glanced at Mrs. Thompson. “Watch the register for a second?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She barely hesitated before waving me off. “Go, dear!” She clutched her purse like she was preparing to defend the store herself.

I ran outside, my heart hammering as I scanned the busy sidewalk. The kid was fast—too fast.

Weaving through the crowd, dodging between people, slipping around corners like they’d done this before.

I almost lost them. Almost.

Then, a voice called out.

“Ran that way, five minutes ago.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I turned. A homeless man sat on a newspaper, pointing lazily down a side street.

I nodded in thanks and hurried forward, following his direction.

And then—I saw her.

The kid had stopped behind an abandoned alley, far from the main street. The oversized hoodie swallowed her small frame, making her look even younger.

I slowed my steps, pressing myself against the brick wall at the alley’s entrance, watching.

She pulled something from her pocket.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A wrapped sandwich.

From the other pocket, she retrieved a tiny candle and a lighter.

My breath caught.

She unwrapped the sandwich with careful hands, smoothing the paper flat like it was something precious. Then, she stuck the small candle into the soft bread and flicked the lighter on.

A tiny flame flickered to life.

And then, she sang.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Happy birthday to me… Happy birthday to me…”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through me like a knife.

She smiled—just a little—then took a deep breath and blew out the candle.

I stepped forward before I could think twice.

The girl froze.

Her big brown eyes filled with fear as she took a quick step back, her hands clenching at her sides.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, already inching away like a cornered animal.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I knelt down, making sure my voice was gentle. “You don’t have to run.”

Her lips trembled.

“You’re not mad?” she whispered.

I shook my head. “I just wish you didn’t have to steal a sandwich for your own birthday.”

For the first time, something in her cracked. The tough shell, the instinct to fight or flee—it slipped, just for a second.

I held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s go back to the store. We’ll get you something to eat. No stealing required.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She hesitated.

Then, to my surprise, she reached out and took my hand.

Back at the store, Logan was waiting for me.

The moment I stepped through the door, his voice hit me like a whip.

“Where the hell were you?” he barked. His arms were crossed, his jaw tight, impatience rolling off him in waves.

I tightened my grip on Katie’s small, trembling hand. She shrank slightly behind me, her fingers curling around mine like a lifeline.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“A child took something,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “I went after her.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.

“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly, stepping forward, his boots clicking against the wooden floor.

“You left the register. Chased down a thief. And instead of calling the police, you brought her back here?”

“She’s not a thief,” I shot back. “She’s a hungry kid.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t care if she’s a saint. She stole from the store.”

I saw it then—the way his hand hovered near his pocket, his fingers twitching. He was reaching for his phone.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My stomach clenched.

“I’m calling the cops,” he said, his voice dripping with finality. “They’ll take her to an orphanage. That’s where kids like this end up.”

Beside me, Katie flinched. I felt her grip tighten like she was bracing for something awful.

I stepped forward without thinking. “Logan, don’t. Please.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “Why not? You care about your job, don’t you?”

His words hung heavy in the air, daring me to argue.

I swallowed hard. My pulse pounded in my ears.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’ll quit if you don’t call the police,” I said.

For the first time, Logan hesitated.

He blinked. “What?”

“You want me gone, right?” My voice was even, but inside, my heart was racing. “If I walk away now, you get what you want. Just don’t call.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable—maybe shock, maybe amusement. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smug grin.

“Fine,” he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Pack your things.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, glancing down at Katie. Her wide brown eyes looked up at me, searching for reassurance.

I squeezed her hand.

“Let’s go,” I said.

The next morning, I walked into Richard’s office with a heavy heart. Richard was always kind to me, an owner of the store I looked up to. The folded resignation letter in my hand felt like a brick. I had spent four years at Willow’s Market, and now, it was over.

Richard sat at his desk, the morning light casting long shadows across the wooden surface. He was reading over some invoices, his glasses perched low on his nose.

I cleared my throat and placed the envelope in front of him. “Richard, I—”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But before I could explain, he lifted a hand to stop me.

“Mrs. Thompson told me everything,” he said.

I froze.

My pulse quickened as I searched his face, expecting disappointment, maybe even anger. But instead, there was something softer—understanding.

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Logan was supposed to take over this place one day… but after what he did?” He shook his head. “I don’t want someone like him running this store.”

I stared at him, my breath catching. “Then… who will?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Richard smiled.

“You.”

I almost dropped my coffee.

“Me?” My voice came out in a whisper.

“You’re not just a cashier, Claire,” he said gently. “You’re the heart of this store.”

Tears burned my eyes.

I had lost a job.

But somehow, I had gained a future.

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