Liv and Mia Tyler are sisters, but they first met at an Aerosmith concert
To quote one of their father's famous lyrics, Liv and Mia Tyler shared some 'sweet emotion' over how they first met.
The pair are the daughters of Aerosmith frontman Steven Tyler and have a complicated family situation.
Liv Tyler was born to singer, model and former Playboy Playmate Bebe Buell in 1977. However, for many years, Tyler believed she had been fathered by another rocker, singer Todd Rundgren, who signed her birth certificate and raised her.
Mia Tyler, who was born in 1978, is the daughter of actress, model and publicist Cyrinda Foxe. The Tyler daughters talked about how they first met during a recent episode of the podcast, 'Sibling Revelry With Kate Hudson and Oliver Hudson.'
Kate Hudson brought up the sisters' 'Beautiful, but traumatic story,' she described as 'bizzare.'
Mia and Liv went on to say that when they were 8 and 9 years old respectively, their mothers brought them to the same Aerosmith concert.
'I remember there were no kids backstage, so we played hard that night,' Mia Tyler said. 'And we were at this VIP area, outside of the green rooms and we were just like, you know, doing our 8 and 9-year-old thing, and this fan lady came up and she was like, 'Oh my god, you girls are so cute. Are you guys sisters?''
A post shared by Sibling Revelry (@siblingrevelry) Guns n' Roses was touring with their dad's band and Liv Tyler remembered running to the side of stage to watch them and seeing her - unbeknownst to her at the time - half-sister.
'I just remember standing there watching them play, looking and seeing this girl who looked exactly like me. Like we literally had the same outfit on. We had both had perms, like spiral perms, pink frosty lipstick,' Liv Tyler said. 'We were both wearing a Aerosmith concert t-shirt with black leggings and Reebok high top sneakers. I looked and I was like, wait, that's me. It was really weird. I was literally like looking in the mirror seeing double.'
Mia Tyler said that Guns n' Roses lead singer Axl Rose would dedicate their hit 'Sweet Child O' Mine' to her. After that dedication, Liv Tyler looked to her mother.
'I looked at my mom, and she just started crying. My mom was bawling, and I was like, 'is Steven my dad?' and she just burst,' Liv Tyler revealed. 'She took me to a bench and we sat on at an outdoor amphitheater, and she told me the whole story in the most sincere, beautiful way.'
The two half-siblings have since gone on to form a close bond with both of them getting into modeling and acting. They have also formed a close relationship with their now 77-year-old father, who for years struggled with substance abuse.
Mia Tyler said that factored into his love of his now trademark scarves that he would wear on stage, tying them around his microphones.
'The story of why he has scarves on his microphone is because he liked to hide his pills and whatnot, so he could do them live on stage,' she said during the podcast. 'He would have little pockets sewn so he could be on stage and just take whatever it was that he was [ingesting}.'
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I couldn't help comparing the scene of Kayla, in an all-wrong bright-green one-piece, anxiously descending into the pool, head down as if to make herself invisible, with a memorable moment in Fast Times: the sexually-savvy-beyond-her-years Linda (Phoebe Cates), clad in a fire-engine-red bikini, majestically emerging from the water, a symbol of an era freighted with such different fears. By now, in the TikTok-teen era (vlogging Kayla was a little ahead of her time), the feedback-loop premise of Handy's history shows signs of being under strain. Teens, once Hollywood's lucrative market, no longer flock to theaters. And the place where their adventures are playing out isn't as readily accessible as it once was, even to hyper-hovering adults. If teens are still showing up at parties, they're on their phones there; if they still venture out to whatever malls they can find, they're on their phones there. When they're at school, they're mostly on their phones there, too. And what they are consuming is content produced by other teens—stories and TikToks and straight-to-camera diatribes more real to them than any film written by adults and shot through their anxious, or nostalgic, lens. The cohort that took over mass culture more than half a century ago has now built a sprawling culture for itself, by itself. In 2025, the most potent media produced about teenagers will likely emerge on those pocket-size life changers, and most grown-ups will never get wind of what's on display. How's that for something to worry about?
