WOOL COAT, £2,890.
CREPE SKIRT, £1,850.
BOTH BALENCIAGA.
WOOL/CASHMERE
POLONECK, £560,
GABRIELA HEARST,
AT SELFRIDGES.
BEANIE, BOOTS AND
SOCKS, AS BEFOREwho’s been criticised over the years for not being free-thinking
enough. But she is, says Watson, a reminder that there are
many different ways to be a woman. “I have this theory,” she
says, “Louisa [May Alcott] had a lot of sisters in real life, but
I think also she kind of put a little piece of herself into all of
the March sisters. I think it was a really good literary device
to explain that there’s not one way to be a feminist – which
we still seem to be struggling with.”
She warms to her theme. “With Meg’s character, her way
of being a feminist is making the choice – because that’s
really, for me anyway, what feminism is about. Her choice
is that she wants to be a full-time mother and wife. To Jo,
being married is really some sort of prison sentence. But
Meg says, ‘You know, I love him and I’m really happy and
this is what I want. And just because my dreams are different
from yours, it doesn’t mean they’re unimportant.’”
Which begs the question: what are Emma Watson’s dreams?
She turns 30 in April, and describes 2019 as having been
“tough”, because she “had all these ideas” about what her life
was supposed to look like at this age. “I was like, ‘Why does
everyone make such a big fuss about turning 30? This is not
a big deal...’ Cut to 29, and I’m like, ‘Oh my God, I feel so
stressed and anxious. And I realise it’s because there is
suddenly this bloody influx of subliminal messaging around.
If you have not built a home, if you do not have a husband,
if you do not have a baby, and you are turning 30, and you’re
not in some incredibly secure, stable place in your career, or
you’re still figuring things out...” she pauses for breath.
“There’s just this incredible amount of anxiety.”
If it’s staggering to think that Watson worries about this
stuff, it’s comforting, too. “I never believed the whole ‘I’m
happy single’ spiel,” she continues. “I was like, ‘This is totally
spiel.’ It took me a long time, but I’m very happy [being
single]. I call it being self-partnered.”
She is, however, dating. “Not one specific person,” she’s
keen to clarify, “but I’m going on dates.” So how, in this tricky
landscape, does one of the world’s most famous women meet
men? “Dating apps are not on the cards for me,” she concedes,
and I tell her that, frankly, she’s had a lucky escape. “I’m very
lucky in the sense that because I went to university and because
I’ve done these other things outside of film, my friends are
really good at setting me up. Really good. And what’s really
nice is some of my best friends are people I got set up on a
date with and it didn’t work out.” That’s very emotionally
mature, I say, impressed. “I didn’t think it was possible,” Watson
agrees. “And it really is possible. And it’s actually great.”It’s rare insight into her notoriously low-key, and otherwise
hard to imagine, day-to-day life. She smiles and says she
splits her time between London and New York (I was
shocked to learn that, as a self-confessed “nomad”, she
doesn’t have a permanent address), and her hobbies seem
to be on the quieter side. She loves reading, and famously
balanced her career and education for three years while
studying English literature at Brown University and
Worcester College, Oxford. She’s also a qualified yoga
teacher. Most interestingly, for someone with a voice as
widely heard as hers, she spends 10 days a year at a silent
retreat. Frankly, who could blame her if she didn’t want to
speak to anybody for 10 months, let alone 10 days?
Despite what looks like the leanings of a closet introvert, she
draws strength building communities with people who, like
her, are trying to change things. One of her greatest pleasures
in making Little Women, she says, was spending time with fellow
actor-activists. “What was really nice about working with Laura
Dern and Meryl Streep was that the three of us knew each
other way before we did Little Women. We met in activist spaces,
so we had this allyship and solidarity as activists that had been
part of a certain movement before we ever worked together.”
While she is an established feminist champion today, when
Watson first started speaking out on gender issues she was
criticised for being a “white feminist” – someone whose privilege
prevents them from seeing that other women may face extra
struggles because they are women of colour, trans or working
class, for example. Most people become defensive and hostile
when their privilege is pointed out, but her reaction was a
masterclass in how to listen and learn: “I saw ‘white feminism’
coming up again and again, and I was like, ‘Hey, this is clearly
something that I have to meaningfully engage with. I have to
understand this better.’” She read everything she could lay her
hands on by black feminists – then used her platform to raise
up women who aren’t often heard. Some of Watson’s peers in
Hollywood, not to mention certain sections of the British
media, could learn a thing or two from her.
Watson is also a staunch supporter of the trans community,
which she is keen to discuss today. As the British press continues
to demonise trans people and claim there is a conflict between
trans rights and traditional feminism, I ask her what she’d say
to, for instance, people who think allowing trans women to use
public toilets puts “real” women in danger. “That makes me
really mad,” she says. “Having spoken with, or having friends
who are trans, there’s so many more important issues that are
not being discussed. We’re dealing with life-and-death stuff.”
She draws a comparison between being famous and being
trans, in that both can leave you afraid to walk out the front
door. “I feel anxious walking down the street, I feel anxious
getting on a train,” she adds, seriously. “It’s totally different,
and oftentimes it’s not my safety that’s at risk. But I have
insane amounts of empathy for what it must be like [for
you].” She also points out – correctly, I believe – that most
people who talk about trans issues have never even spoken
to a trans person. “I understand fearing what you don’t know,
but go and learn. Making people feel not included is... is
just such a painful, awful thing to do,” she says, her voice
breaking, “and it has such big effects.”
Watson’s childhood is well recorded: her parents are
lawyers; she was born in Paris and spent her first five years
in France. Age six, she went to the Dragon School in Oxford
and took acting lessons at the local branch of Stagecoach
Theatre Arts. She was determined to become an actor even
as a little girl, long before she was cast in Harry Potter.“I NEVER BELIEVED
THE WHOLE
‘I’M HAPPY SINGLE’
SPIEL. IT TOOK
ME A LONG TIME,
BUT I’M HAPPY.
I CALL IT BEING
SELF-PARTNERED”
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