When most people think of Goldfinger (1964), one dazzling image flashes to mind: a golden, gleaming silhouette—seductive, still, and unforgettable. That image, immortalized in the opening credits of the film, has become one of cinema’s most recognizable visuals. But here’s what many don’t realize: the body that shimmered in gold belonged not to the character Jill Masterson, but to actress and artist Margaret Nolan.

Behind that striking frame was a woman who refused to be boxed in by the glittering surface. Margaret Nolan was more than a Bond girl, more than a curvaceous blonde in a bawdy comedy—she was an artist, a rebel, and a woman with a sharp sense of irony.

Born Into a World at War

Margaret Ann Nolan entered the world on October 29, 1943, in Hampstead, London, in the thick of World War II. Raised between England and Waterford, Ireland, Nolan’s early years were shaped by resilience and movement. Her father worked as an Army clerk; her Irish mother instilled a strong sense of identity.

Though she trained as a teacher, fate had other plans. With her commanding presence, piercing blue eyes, and statuesque figure, Nolan found herself swept into the vibrant world of 1960s modeling and acting.

Video: Margaret Nolan – Goldfinger (1964)

From Vicky Kennedy to Glamour Queen

In the early ’60s, she adopted the alias Vicky Kennedy—a name that would appear in glamour magazines and risqué pictorials. Embracing the liberated energy of the Swinging Sixties, Nolan leaned into her sexuality with self-awareness and confidence. She wasn’t just another blonde bombshell—she knew the game and played it on her own terms.

Her modeling career, while successful, was just the beginning. Acting soon followed, and with it came an unexpected brush with cinematic immortality.

The Goldfinger Moment: More Than Just Shine

In Goldfinger, Nolan had a minor role as Dink, James Bond’s masseuse. But her real legacy came from the title sequence. Visual designer Robert Brownjohn chose her for the opening montage, painting her body in gold and projecting film scenes across her skin. The result was haunting and hypnotic—forever burned into film history.

Though Shirley Eaton played the woman who dies from being covered in gold, it was Nolan’s image that defined the aesthetic of the film.

And yet, fame didn’t come without complications.

Fame with a Price Tag

For years, Margaret Nolan’s golden image was confused with Eaton’s, even by industry insiders. Despite her pivotal role in the film’s visual identity, she often went uncredited. That kind of erasure is no small thing—it speaks to how women in entertainment are often reduced to decoration, their contributions absorbed into someone else’s legacy.

But Nolan didn’t take the slight lying down. She used her voice, humor, and art to push back.

Making Comedy Her Stage

Video: Margaret Nolan in comedy series Nearest & Dearest

Rather than fade away into obscurity or cling to Bond girl fame, Nolan pivoted—straight into British comedy. The Carry On film series, known for cheeky innuendos and slapstick chaos, became her new playground. She appeared in six of the films, including Carry On Cowboy and Carry On Girls, delivering humor with a wink and a smirk.

She knew the roles were often one-dimensional, but she brought them to life with comic timing and playful intelligence. Her presence was electric, and even in ensemble casts, she stood out. She wasn’t just eye candy—she was in on the joke.

Beyond the Screen: The Artist Emerges

In the 1980s, disillusioned by the industry’s ageist and sexist casting practices, Nolan stepped back from acting. But she wasn’t done creating—not by a long shot.

She turned to visual art, finding a new voice through photo collages and multimedia work. Using old modeling shots of herself, she crafted layered, critical explorations of femininity, celebrity, and the power of image. Her work challenged the very system that once objectified her.

It was bold. It was brilliant. And it made people rethink everything they thought they knew about Margaret Nolan.

A Quiet but Powerful Return

Video: Margaret Nolan and Valerie Leon in Carry On Girls

In 2011, she briefly returned to acting with The Power of Three, and later, filmmaker Edgar Wright cast her in a cameo in Last Night in Soho (2021). Nolan passed away just before the film was released, but Wright honored her publicly, calling her “an actor, artist, and visual icon.”

It was a fitting tribute. Her final screen appearance came in a film about the haunting echo of the past—an echo Nolan knew all too well.

Rewriting the Narrative

Margaret Nolan’s life was a series of reinventions. From pin-up to performer, from screen siren to subversive artist, she continuously found ways to reclaim her identity. She never allowed herself to be defined solely by the male gaze, even when her image was plastered across posters and screens.

She wasn’t just the golden girl. She was the woman who took that gold and turned it into commentary—who made art from her own myth and laughed at the absurdity of fame.

Conclusion

Margaret Nolan will always be remembered for that iconic gold-painted image—but that’s only the surface. Beneath the shimmer was a mind that questioned, a spirit that pushed back, and a creative force that never stopped evolving. She was a rebel in sequins, a muse with a message, and an artist who knew exactly what she was doing.

Her legacy isn’t just cinematic—it’s deeply human. And it reminds us that even in a world obsessed with surfaces, there’s always something more worth seeing.