long as you're beautiful too, writes Raymond Gill.
anyone. She can leave a nightclub looking as if she's spent the night shagging vertically on the dance floor, downing several dozen mojitos, blowing off losers and spitting tabloid scum in the face. And doing it all simultaneously and classily.
Her global brand is kohl-eyed heroin chic, getting down and dirty with rock stars, wasted anorexics, hyphenated heirs and other self-important, self-harming A to D celebrities.
She rarely speaks in public. She apparently never uses her power f--k-you celebrity.
In terms of feathering her own nest she makes Heather Mills look like Aung San Suu Kyi.
We're talking about Kate Moss, who this week sneered her way range of clothing for all the mortals who want to be just like her, they eat occasionally.
grown women the world over.
She just looks so damn good in those skinny jeans and vests.
that vaguely derelict cynicism that is quintessentially English, She's the new Jeffrey Bernard of Spectator fame, only female, blonde, thin and with no obvious signs of wit. Also Bernard didn't like Babyshambles; he did it on his own.
Pete Doherty and chopping lines with her Black Amex, the more her public love it, the more mag covers she graces and the more her star rises.
Chic is all about Just Saying More. Drugs have always been very, good-looking places.
Just ask Jacqueline Sussan.
railway underpass doesn't cut it, so to speak. But lying on the uppers, downers and Qualudes is very now and always will be.
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