27

I remember the day River Phoenix died: my older sister was devastated. No one in my year at school knew who he was so I mourned alone through Latin and dreaded P.E., counting the seconds till home-time so we could watch My Own Private Idaho and weep into our tea. (In hindsight I don't think we should've been watching that film at all, but this was our sneakily-videoing-Twin-Peaks-every-Thursday phase, so minds were being quietly blown.)

River was only 23 - so, so young. At the time it seemed grown-up but it's nothing, really. And yet his legacy lives on and always will: this aspect of celebrity is strange and dangerous, seductive, in a way; the idea that someone can be immortalised, frozen at a beautiful age and undiminished by time. When Amy Winehouse died at 27 last week she joined legends like Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison, cementing her legacy in this gruesome, but weirdly glamorous, hall of fame.

What is it about being 27? 'Club 27' are traditionally seen to lead hedonistic, rock and roll lifestyles, and while that's often a big part of being a music icon, success and notoriety at a tender, unformed age is arguably the engine behind it. Troubled genius or victim of celebrity? Are some talents too much to bear; a gift becomes more of a cross? Or is it the flipside of money and fame, the pressure and the persecution? Friends say they're happier in their 30s than they were in their 20s, a decade characterised by uncertainty and loss of direction, and to live that in the glare of the spotlight must be hard. Some talents aren't meant to last for ever: they're meant to burn out, not fade away; live fast, not die slow; be a bang, not a whimper. 

Nowadays the media is a machine all its own. Celebrities are chased and hunted, nothing ever enough, and recent scandals in the news drive this home with uncomfortable clarity. For a young woman finding her way, it must be a difficult place to be. Kind of amazing, then, that Amy Winehouse managed to retain any mystique at all - and she did, despite the hounding press and the wrecked photos and the shambolic performances. She still seemed . . . untouchable. That's what makes her legendary.