In January 2008, Vanity Fair's cover girl was Katherine Heigl. "Hollywood's hottest blonde," as they called her, was stunning—a soothing dollop of peach gelato poured into a column gown, brows intelligently arched, lipstick perfectly applied. Inside the magazine, she smiled regally behind the wheel of a Rolls, stretching her arms in silk opera gloves. The accompanying text told a different, less rosy story: the Grey's Anatomystar detailed the shocking death of her older brother Jason, chatted about her Mormon childhood, and discussed her struggle to break out as an actress. She projected a kind of loose-cannon candor, blasting the film that launched her stardom, Knocked Up, as "a little bit sexist" and her character, reporter Allison Scott, as "a shrew." Back then, it read as refreshingly daring: That Heigl! She's a pistol.