The Sisters of Perpetual Abstinence

Their next film, New York Minute, might carry a PG-13 rating and will be marketed to boys as well as girls. "We're shooting for nineteen- and twenty-year-olds," says Robert Thorne, CEO of Dualstar Entertainment Group, the girls' privately held production company. "What a Girl Wants, The Lizzie McGuire Movie -- we're working hard not to do that." Instead, they are shooting for big, mainstream comedies in the vein of Meet the Parents or Mrs. Doubtfire.

"We have to take into consideration the people who want to watch us," says Mary-Kate. "And we're still going to keep those little kids happy."

Girls go bonkers over Mary-Kate and Ashley because they seem hip yet approachable. There's even a theory floating around that their popularity has been sustained by an explosion in multiple births -- about one in every thirty-five births in the U.S. is to twins.

Later that day the girls meet at a tea place called Elixir that sells drinks such as Liquid Yoga, which it calls "a chill-at-will tonic." Mary-Kate breezes in first, in a black blazer, tan sweats, flip-flops and an old Van Halen T-shirt. The perfect California girl, she looks even better after a day at the beach: gold-flecked skin, shiny blond hair, as fresh and organic as the strawberries she nibbles on.

Her cell phone rings: Ashley. "You're late? OK. I got a parking ticket -- twenty-six bucks! OK. Love you." They end most conversations that way. Ashley hurries in a few minutes later, full of apologies, wearing ripped jeans, a gray hooded sweater and Birkenstocks. She's the older sister by two minutes and is an inch taller. They are fraternal twins, but they do look almost exactly alike.

As they talk, they fasten their clear blue-green eyes on you. "Their eyes were always what made people like them when they were young," says their Full House co-star Bob Saget. "They have big, beautiful eyes." And the same slightly wistful smile that they had as toddlers. In person, they have the big-goggled vulnerability of children in a Margaret Keane painting, which may in part describe their incredible appeal. They do not seem hardened by the world. They show no angry edge, no indefinable hurt. In fact, what is striking is how blessedly ordinary they seem.

Ashley is rattled because she was late. "Ashley's more of a Type A personality, I would say," says Mary-Kate.

"I get nervous in big crowds," says Ashley. "I check the exits to make sure that if there's a fire, an emergency, we know where to get out."

"That's why I always feel really safe," says Mary-Kate. "Because Ashley gets nervous for the both of us." She sits up, rigid. "I had a scary thing happen to me this morning. I got out of my shower, and there's a big black spider crawling up my leg. I keep itching, thinking it bit me." She shudders.

"I don't kill spiders, because I always feel bad," says Ashley, and points to Mary-Kate. "I remember years ago, when I swatted a fly, you said, 'What if it had a brother or a sister? Do you know how sad the other would be?' "

(Excerpted from RS 930, September 4, 2003)