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11-08-2009
  106
V.I.P.
 
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US Vogue September 1982

versace
models: gia carangi, jerry hall, rosie vela, kim alexis, beverly johnson
photographer: richard avedon


source: vintagefashionmagazines.blogspot.com

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16-08-2009
  107
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The Observer has run some of Jerry's quotes:

Quote:
On preferring Hillary Clinton to Barack Obama
I'm voting for Hillary. I think bitches get things done (2008)

On unflattering paparazzi beach photos
I've never had cellulite. But if it cheered people up at the breakfast table, that's fine by me (2004)

To Andy Warhol
I want to marry a millionaire, so I can have caviar any time of the day or night, and take nice long champagne baths (1975)

On Mick Jagger's songs
I don't nag him to death, saying "Which one's about me?" But whenever I have asked him he's always given me the same answer. "Darling," he says, "they're all about you." It's soo sweet (1985)

On meeting Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir in Paris
They loved to hear me talk stuff about rodeos (1985)

On leaving court, cleared of importing 20lbs of Marijuana into Barbados
My only vice is Chanel (1987)

On being seduced by Jagger
Mick and I just really liked each other a lot. We talked all night. We had the same views on nuclear disarmament (1985)

On personality
I think if I weren't so beautiful, maybe I'd have more character (1981)

As an agony aunt, advising a reader whose husband didn't want a third child
Honey, remember, the more you make love, the more chance there is of a happy accident ... Chances are he will get used to it. If not, having a baby later in life is an especially good idea: you will get alimony pretty much until your pension kicks in (2009)

On dating younger men
I don't want to be ageist or anything, but I don't really like their tastes in music. It's like Coldplay ... it's like arrrgh (2008)

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16-08-2009
  108
clever ain't wise
 
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^All the quotes are wonderful....except the one about Mick and the songs....It's so sweet...ya, and it's a LIE

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16-08-2009
  109
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I'm sure she knew.At least i hope so.

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16-08-2009
  110
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yes, a lady doesn't snatch Mick Jagger for nothing...I find it a bit odd though, that she would think it was somehow impressive.

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18-08-2009
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Quote:
It's like Coldplay ... it's like arrrgh


i like her quotes. she sounds so honest hahah

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21-08-2009
  112
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Who The Hell Does JERRY HALL Think She Is?

Tom Hibbert, Q, May 1990

WANTED: drawling Southern belle with modelling experience, fun-loving socialite/raunchsome rock star's moll with sidelines in amateur dramatics, swimwear design and promoting beefy hot drinks. Position suits professional person, practised at playing the dumb blonde. Applications in writing to Tom Hibbert. P.S...

WE TAP SOFTLY
and politely upon the dressing room door – nameplate: "Miss Jerry Hall" – in the Lyric Theatre, Shaftesbury Avenue, and it's tugged, fairly wrenched, open by this peroxide Amazon, beaming beneath acres of lipstick, drawling Southern-wise, like Scarlett O'Hara on the sauce, "Wayull, and how ahre youwew!!?" You'd think she had never been quite so delighted to see anyone in her life. "Cayum eehyounn!" she goes, battily fluttering the eyebrows set within the overlong face and baring a set of monstrously gleaming, somewhat equine nashers. In her left hand she brandishes a vase of flowers, and there are similar bloom-filled vessels lined all along the mirror counter.

"Just leeyook at all these flowyers!" she says, gesturing dangerously with the vase at her florist shop-styled display. "I just leeyurve flowyers. They're from all my friends. Aren't they nahce? Aren't people nahce?"

Flowers, one must admit, are sometimes very nice, but these ones have been there in water since the play she's performing in, Bus Stop, opened a week ago. The dressing room now has a certain less-than-pleasant fragrance. Observing that we have noticed this fact, Ms Hall turns up her ample nose and all but bellows, "Eeyuh, this duressing room smeeyewulls! Mah curleaning lady, she's so nahce and surweet, she just cayun't bayear to throw my flowyers away!" At this she laughs a laugh that's almost a whinny, a thing born in the throat that comes out the nose and is almost impossible to express on the printed page...something like "Shnawwwlsnffffhuhhuhhyawl."

I will refrain, from here on, from attempting to translate Ms Hall's utterances phonetically. You would get a dreadful headache. Suffice it to say, she is clearly very proud of her Southern accent. She exaggerates, uses it, in combination with fluttering eyelashes, as a flirting device – "What, li'l meeyuh?" – just like Scarlett/Vivien Leigh did in Gone With The Wind. But if riled or angered, the accent slips; she loses it and she sounds, of a sudden, not some Southern belle but more like...well, Mick.

"Hi, Chris! How are you?" We have been interrupted (again...someone came scuttling in with Ms Hall's tea and then a make-up lady came to pop her head round the door and say "Hi!" and then there was a bearded bloke relaying some message about Saturday's matinee and now there's assistant director Chris Pickles, dropping by for pre-performance salutations.) "Hi, Chris! How are you? Wasn't Ben sweet? Did you meet him? He's so sweet. He loves the play!"

Chris looks rather blank.

"Ben Kingsley." Jerry darts a look at me to see if I have registered the name of the famed British Thespian.

"Ben Kingsley. He just loves the play."

Chris perks into action. "Oh, yeah, Ben. Ben was saying in the interval how he adored it. It was really nice to have such an open, honest reaction."

Jerry: "Sure was! Byeeee!"

Chris: "Byeeee!"

Jerry (to me): "Isn't Chris sweet?" (How on earth should I know? I only saw the geezer for a few seconds, but Jerry Hall seems to imagine – or wants you to imagine she imagines – that everybody is sweet and nahce.) "Oh, he's so sweet. Everyone in the play is so sweet and nahce, all the people in the theatre are so nahce, it's just like having a family. They're so sweet and so supportive and so positive, full of energy, and so sweet that it's really..."

Sweet?

"...nahce."

JERRY HALL, dressed in simple sweater and jeans, though made up to the gills, stalks her dressing room, fussing with her hair and dabbing at her flowers, saying just how very delighted she is to be here, starring in the West End.

"I think the West End is wonderful. And you know, this is a really sweet play. It has lovely messages..."

Bus Stop, written in 1955 by William Inge, is pretty trifling, sub-Tennessee Williams stuff, concerning the fractured relationship between a would-be rodeo cowboy Bo Decker (played by David Cassidy's younger brother Shaun) and a would-be showgirl singer Cherie (Hall), who are stuck in a Kansas diner during a snowstorm. Maybe you have seen the 1956 film starring Marilyn Monroe. Jerry Hall is not Marilyn Monroe (her feet are too big), and reviews have been "mixed", as they say, some unkind gentlemen suggesting that Ms Hall is to the art of Thespis what Yves St Laurent is to speedway. To be polite, Ms Hall is adequate in the part (called upon to lounge upon the diner's counter and sing 'That Old Black Magic' out of tune, she proves that when it comes to singing off key, she's the tops). Ms Hall does not take kindly to criticism of her craft. She sits, slowly crosses her legs, slowly ignites a Marlboro Light and blows the smoke out with something approaching a snarl.

"Some of the reviews were nahce but, you know, they picked on me a lot about being too tall, which is so stupid because everybody knows I'm tall. But they just wanted to pick on me and be bitchy and stuff."

Paranoid tendencies dissipate and Hall composes herself once more into a life-loving Southern belle.

"But I've gotten wonderful letters. All my friends liked it and I've been offered four other plays and two movies," – she is positively beaming – "so it's very good for my career."
Ah, career. Thus far, the career has consisted of highly-paid modelling and, more important, being the much publicised paramour of Mick Jagger. She doesn't need the money that the West End offers but, well...

"I have a whole lot of creative energy and I have all these big ideas and I want to entertain people. It's something that's in you from childhood, this desperately wanting to please and entertain people. It's like a gift, or something. Maybe it's that. It's different with Mick."

Ask Jerry Hall about herself and her response often, somehow, turns to things Mick.
"Mick dreams music. He hears music, you know. He's always hearing songs in his head. It's some sort of special talent. With me, I like to do different projects because if you have too much energy, it can go bad on you if you don't do something about it. I just have to work because if I don't work I tend to re-arrange the furniture all the time."

JERRY HALL WAS born in Mesquite, Texas about 35 years ago ("about" = age in some dispute). Her father was a truck driver, transporting explosive chemicals across America. Her mother was a medical records librarian. The girl had to share a bed with three sisters, which sounds frightfully Southern-impoverished-romantic and Dolly Partonesque but "we weren't like dirt poor, you know, we weren't really white trash, we were just sort of on the verge of being regular suburban lower-middle-class American. I have never had to starve."

It was mother who taught Jerry that a woman should be a cook in the kitchen, a maid in the living room, a whore in the bedroom.

"Oh, that old quote. I try not to say those things any more. When I was modelling, I was hanging out with wild people and the reporters would want me to say some wild quote. I used to be quite good at that stuff."

Yes, it was Ms Hall who offered this valuable snippet of advice on how to keep a man to gals everywhere: "Even if you only have two seconds, drop everything and give him a blow job." She laughs her whinnying laugh, a disconcerting sound.

"Oh, that's dumb. I don't say those things any more...Actually my mother was a bit old-fashioned, really. She did believe that the man was the king of the castle and that you should try and please them and she thought if you were nahce and sexy you got a lot more out of life."

Does Hall believe that "man is the king of the castle"?

"I don't know because I feel very liberated. I've always made more money than the men in my job, I've always worked and I've had my own money and done what I like with it. And actually Mick is actually much better at organising, you know, things to do with the house than I am. I like to do the decorating and invite people and entertain them but he's much more practical."

What? You mean Mick Jagger, latter-day rock Lothario, can change a fuse?
"A feeyews? What's that? I dunno. He's good with his hands, haha."

Oo-er, sounds a bit rude.

"I wouldn't say I was the sort of typical unliberated, you know, house-wifey thing. But I suppose man is still king of the castle...if he's got some muhney, hahaha..."

Hall has always been drawn to men with muhney, it seems. Flings with David Ogilvy and former racing mogul Robert Sangster, relationships with Bryan Ferry and Mick. But she does not wish to dwell upon the men in her past.

"No, no nah, I don't want to talk about all that. I'm sick of talking about that. I'm sick of talking about Bryan. I'm sick of talking about Mick." (Really?) "I don't want to talk about all that. The English press can be pretty ghastly, can't they? They sure can." All she will say about Bryan is "He was great fun around the house." The rest is silence.

Jerry Hall, girl from Mesquite, worked at Dairy Queen, dishing up ice cream, before her mother encouraged her to take up modelling.

"Everybody said I was nahce and pretty and photogenic but I was tall and thin and I used to be very upset about it. I'd cry and crah and stuff but my mother said, Well, you know, look at this girl Twiggy, she's really well known and she's skinnier than you are and she's made it, so maybe you can do that. And my school picture came out real good. It gave me a happy feeling."[/FONT]/FONT]

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Last edited by hfgl; 22-08-2009 at 09:58 AM.
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21-08-2009
  113
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So she left Texas when she was 16 (or thereabouts), came to Europe and was discovered by Helmut Newton, billed as the new Verushka, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Catwalks and the covers of all the high-gloss magazines and piles and piles of dough. This top model person now has her own swimwear "collection"...

"I lerve choosing fabrics. I lerve design. I do it all myself. Sometimes when I see somebody on the beach that I don't know and they're wearing all my swim-suits, I get the biggest thrill. It's called Jerry Hall Swimwear..." (a plug) "...for lack of imagination. It's about the third most successful swimwear line in the world."

Golly! And she has a proper acting career – of sorts. She was in the thoroughly tiresome Urban Cowboy (starring John Travolta) for about two seconds; she was in Batman for about 10 seconds, scuttling in and out of rooms with shopping bags as Jack Nicholson's bimbo girlfriend ("Boy, was Batman a success!" she exclaims, almost taking the credit herself). But she is probably best known to the casual viewer for her appearances in telly commercials for Applause (a chocolate bar confection) and Bovril (a peculiar beverage). In one of the Bovril ads, for Chicken Bovril, the glamour-puss was called upon to dress up in a stupid chicken suit. Not very dignified, was it?

"Oh, that was fuhn! I've been so lucky in my career because most of my commercials are kind of tongue-in-cheek and have a lot of irony and I lerve that. Dressing up as a chicken is kinda funny, you know. It's not a hard, dumb sell. And all the products I do are quite good. I've never done commercials for things that I thought were awful."
You mean you actually like Bovril?

"I lerve it!" she says, brand loyal to the last. "I lerve it, I swear. I drink it all the time. Have you ever tried the Chicken Bovril?"

No.

"I swear, if you don't like the beef, the Chicken Bovril is very good. I like the beef Bovril, too. My mother had this beef wine and iron tonic that we had to drink and we were brought up on cows, you know, beef, beef, beef for breakfast, lunch and dinner so I lerve the beef Bovril. I think it strengthens me."

Jerry Hall takes a sip of tea and lights another cigarette. She's said she thinks the English tabloid press is "ghastly" but, in fact, the newspapers have always been unusually soft on Jerry Hall. They rave on about her striking looks and her glamour and her impeccable nahceness; they've never done a scandalous number on her. When she got into her spot of trouble in Barbados, arrested on drugs charges, they rose in her defence crying this-is-not-a-fair-cop-hands-off-our-Jerry and that sort of thing. The entertainment correspondent of the Daily Mail fed her mints every day in court.

So how was Barbados? She draws heavily upon her cigarette, summoning up her righteous anger. The accent slips.

"That was so awful. So stupid. As if I would go through customs with a cardboard box full of 20 pounds of marijuana. It was the dumbest thing I'd ever heard of. I actually didn't go through customs. What happened was I asked my butler to send my sweaters from the States and my butler sent them and someone picked them up and put them in the wrong locker at the airport and then they put my name on this other box (the marijuana-stuffed box, that is) and I went to collect it and, God, it was like a nightmare. It was like something so awful, you can't possibly imagine. You can't imagine that that could ever happen in the civilised world. But they're so idiotic there in Barbados; they are all fools and they're horrible and they were getting bugged about their drug problem and they were trying to blame it on somebody well known. It was just pathetic. But the judge was very sweet and nahce...and the customs man got fired for it." Well! "I mean, I don't even like drugs, you know. You can ask Mick. When I first met him, I didn't even drink and he used to laugh in my face, huhhuh. I drink now, because alcohol is very good for your blood..."

To the vulgar newspapers, and others, Jerry Hall represents some kind of Queen of London Society. Seen at all the best parties with the nobs and the toffs and the Billy Connollys of this world. She denies this all, of course, says she's really just a hard worker and a homebody with no time on her hands for playing the flitting socialite. It's just that, you see, photographers tend to snap her whenever she deigns to attend some frolicsome function or other. They like to have her pic in their publications because she's, well, nahce and pretty...

"I don't think I'm a Queen of Society, I don't think that's true at all. It makes me laugh when I read that. I think, God, I spend so much time working and staying home with the kids. But I like the Summer season. In the Summer there's lots of parties. Don't you go to them?"

No. She throws me a look of pity.

"Oh, that's sad. In the Winter there's dinners and stuff and charity events, you know, but most of the parties happen in the Summer, with all the events, the horse racing and the tennis and this and that. I love it."

She plays a dumb blonde act, batting the lashes and tossing back the peroxide mane and pouting and flirting and purring (except when the accent slips) with gusto, does Ms Hall. Is the act genuine, one wonders, or is it something she learnt at her mother's knee, to please and entertain and get her way? Is she a woman of artifice?

"I've heard them say that but, you know, Little House On The Prairie (dreadful American TV series with Michael London and raccoons and much sentimental backwoods inactivity) makes me cry. I cry and crah. I'm always crying at the soppiest things. Mick makes me cry when he does sweet things. He does so many sweet things. You know, he's gone off for three days with his father hiking in Cornwall. Isn't that sweet? He's so nahce. He does such sweet things. He's so sweet and nahce and caring and..."

Not having a sickbag to hand, I feel it necessary to interrupt quickly with a brusque query. If Jerry is not a woman of artifice, is she, then, really dumb?

"Oh, well, that woman of artifice stuff could come from something I said. I said when men were being patronising to me in business or something I just sort of smile sweetly and think, Beneath this peroxide lies a smart brunette, haha. And then L'Oreal, the hair people, liked it and so they used that line in their campaign that I did for them, but I said, Beneath this blonde lies a smart brunette. So you would presume I was faking dumb, but I don't think I have to fake dumb. I'm so uneducated on so many things, I am dumb. I've been trying to read Proust for a while but I haven't got through it. And I hang out with lots of people who are very intelligent, writers and different things, and I feel quite lost sometimes in their conversation so I try to read all the great classics, Proust and stuff, and a lot of them change my life because they're fascinating but it's a lifelong job. And I'm dumb. But I'm not stupid. I trust my instincts so I don't think I'm stupid..."

I ask Jerry Hall if she believes in God and she looks wide-eyed, amazed at the question.
"Why, of course I do. Don't you? I was brought up to believe in God and I always have. It gives me great joy to believe in God. I enjoy gardening and being with my children and being with God and I hope to continue all those lovely things. I think God is nahce."

I ask her where she stands on The Rolling Stones. Does she sort of dig the elderly R&B ragamuffins?

"Oh, yeah I lerve The Rolling Stones. But I was brought up on country and western music. It's my roots. Have you ever listened to Nanci Griffith? She's great."

So what's her favourite Rolling Stones song?

"Um...um..." She pauses and withdraws another cigarette from the emptying packet.

"Um...I think 'Miss You' is the best."

'Miss You'? That rather fearful disco thing rather than 'Gimme Shelter' or similar "golden great"?

"I like 'Miss You'. And I lerve the new album. You know, "You're not the only ship adrift on the ocean" – I think that's so sweet. Every time I ask Mick, he says, All my songs are about you, honey. Hahaha. Actually, I guess I'm not a good judge of music."

JERRY HALL SUDDENLY swoops to her feet crying, "What tahme is it?" It is a quarter to seven and the stage is calling. "Quarter to seven? You're kid-ding! Ah got to get ready!!"
And in her hurried panic, she lets fly a curse that sounds more Mick than Southern belle. "****!" she says. But then she remembers herself, corrects the word with a coy Texan smile and a flutter of eyelids.

"Aw, shoot! And we were getting on sowayull...!"

© Tom Hibbert, 1990

http://www.rocksbackpages.com/index.html

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Last edited by hfgl; 22-08-2009 at 10:00 AM.
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21-08-2009
  114
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And nearly twenty years later, she's still talking, to the Daily Mail:

Quote:
'I want to marry again because I miss the sex', Jerry Hall reveals she's on the lookout for love

21st August 2009

Form an orderly queue chaps – ten years after she called time on Mick Jagger, Jerry Hall is ready to marry again because she misses the sex. But this time she’s going to be more choosy.

Jerry Hall has had it with rock stars. They're too tricky. Never grow up. No, Jerry wants companionship; a man to grow old with, someone nice. Only Jerry, with her rich, ineradicable Texan accent, doesn't say nice, she says 'nahice', stretching the vowel to breaking point, much as serial philanderer Mick Jagger stretched her patience during their 23 years together.

'I suppose when you're younger you're looking for an alpha male with lots of testosterone,' says Jerry, who's 53 now. 'Mick was very, very charismatic and very funny, but the eternal dissatisfied adolescent. He was so irreverent and loose. He always used to make me laugh – and there was definitely some chemistry going on. But a lot of rock stars never grow up, and I'm not looking for that now – definitely not. Priorities change. You want companionship. There are so many things you don't really care about that you did when you were younger. You become less picky about superficial things.

'When you're younger you're more like, "I want someone who's tall and handsome." As you get older you don't think so much like that. I would never go out with a rock star again – definitely not. I have moved on from Mick. I just want someone who I like – someone who's kind, who's going to be nice to you.'

Ouch. Jerry says all of this in honeyed Texan tones with a sugary smile. In fact, the smile rarely slips throughout this interview, belying the bluntness of her words: Mick wasn't that nice. Jerry is. We meet at a West End café a stone's throw from the Noël Coward Theatre, where Jerry's stripping for the West End version of Calendar Girls. She plays Miss September, the character portrayed by Celia Imrie in the hit 2003 film about the famous Women's Institute calendar.

Given her delicious accent though, producers had to change the part from a refined northerner to a Texan who married a Yorkshireman – protecting Jerry's modesty with two strategically placed iced buns. Jerry first appeared nude on stage as Mrs Robinson in The Graduate in 2000, a year after her patience finally snapped with Jagger. She discovered that the Brazilian model Luciana Morad was carrying his baby when the youngest of her four children with Jagger, Gabriel, was a year old.

'I felt quite nervous about taking my clothes off in front of everyone,' she says. 'I never go topless on the beach and never like walking around with no clothes on. I don't feel at all comfortable with it, so it's very odd that I keep getting these roles. But jam-making ladies in their pearls getting their kit off is quite a funny story. The role in The Graduate was a humorous one as well. I like to laugh. Humour has always helped me hide my hurt,' she says.

Humour and, I suspect, having the last laugh on an ageing Jumping Jack Flash. For Jerry looks remarkable at 53. No Botox. No nips or tucks. She's wearing canary-yellow capri pants, a colour that her impossibly long, slim legs allow her to carry off. Her hair is more honeyed blond than peroxide white, and she's totally unapologetic about the roots.

While Jerry's hair has always been a major part of her identity, it has been a source of controversy, too. One advert she appeared in for a hair dye contained the line, 'And you thought you'd be better off with a brunette!', which many took to be a dig at Carla Bruni, now Carla Sarkozy, wife of the French President – and the woman with whom her ex- husband became besotted in 1992. Such was his infatuation with the supermodel, who was 22 when they began their seven-year affair, that when Jerry gave birth to their third child, Georgia May, now 17, he is said to have put in only the briefest of appearances before heading to Thailand with Bruni.

The story goes that when Jerry finally met Bruni at a party, she instructed her to 'keep your hands off my mahn'. Bruni is said to have countered with a catty side-swipe, declaring that Jerry had 'no class, no elegance', but Jerry denies this. 'That's not true. I've never met her,' she insists, spitting the word 'her' out like a nasty taste. Did the affair with Bruni cause her a great deal of pain? 'Yeah,' she says. 'And so did the affairs with quite a few others.'

Seven years ago, when he was 58, Jagger had a fling with supermodel Sophie Dahl, who was then 23. At 41, his current girlfriend, the American stylist L'Wren Scott is only a couple of years older than his eldest child, Karis, his daughter with 1960s icon Marsha Hunt.

Is Jerry tempted by youth? 'I'd find it a bit creepy having sex with people the same age as your children,' she says. 'Younger men look handsome from a distance, but I wouldn't want to go out with one. I wouldn't want to be with someone who had loads of energy, listened to weird music and wanted to go out late. I like going to good restaurants. I like going to art galleries and exhibitions. It's nice to go on dates with someone intelligent – to discuss plays and books. It would be lovely to meet someone. Love is such a special, magical thing. I think sex is a wonderful thing, too.'

Jerry has dated film producer George Waud, banker Tim Attias, explorer Benedict Allen and cricketer Shane Warne. Did she come close to marriage with any of them? 'You're always a bit hopeful, but no,' she says. 'I'm very happy on my own. I wake up happy. I'm naturally happy. I think to be with someone else should add to your life.'

Jerry is sustained by several close female friendships, particularly with Bill Wyman's wife, Suzanne. They belong to a creative writing class that includes Bob Geldof's girlfriend, Jeanne Marine, and Pete Townshend's girlfriend, Rachel Fuller. 'I think it's very important to have lots of female friends. As you get older you realise how valuable your friends are. They really are the jewels in your life. Girlfriends are there when you're upset and when you laugh. It's what I love about Calendar Girls. It's about a woman who's lost her husband, and friends supporting each other through loss.'

She ran her autobiography past her creative writing group and had them in stitches. Not so the publisher, though. Jerry was supposed to have written about life with Jagger, accepting a £500,000 advance from Harper- Collins for the 'explosive' book due out next month. A few months ago, the publishers, who had been prepared to pay £1 million for the book, announced the deal was off. Apparently the memoirs were not explosive enough.

'It's been put on hold,' says Jerry. 'Hopefully, it's coming out at some point. It was a mutual decision to wait. I'm not really ready to put it out yet; maybe in a few years. I've found writing it very cathartic, though. I think as you mature you do remember things differently, or certain things become more important than you thought they were when you were younger. Things like finding your own happiness, being your own person, being comfortable in your skin.

'You know, when I turned 50 I felt relieved. I felt quite proud of myself that I'd made it that far. I think it's good to not have to worry about what you look like and not to have to try so hard. As women we need to embrace all the different stages in life. Now, I hate nightclubs. I love being with my children – cooking, gardening. Being happy.'

She seems happy, laughing a lot during the interview. 'I have frowned way too much in my life, but not any more,' she says. 'I think I stopped f rowning when I got divorced. It's a very sad thing getting divorced, but I think it's better to be happy than to stay with someone if you're not happy.'

So why did she stay with Mick for so long? 'I fell in love and I stayed with him because I was very, very in love for a very long time,' she says. 'I met Mick when I was 19. He was very young, too – in his late twenties. When you're 19 you're looking for fun that night. Things change when you find yourself single years later. I thought we'd always be together. I thought he would grow up. I thought it was because he was a rock star. But it was certainly no fun being cheated on.'

'When you're 19 you're looking for fun that night. Things change when you find yourself single years later. I thought we'd always be together. I thought he would grow up. I thought it was because he was a rock star. But it was certainly no fun being cheated on.'

I'm sure. Jerry was born one of five daughters to a bully of a father, John, a decorated hero of World War II who had fought under General George Patton. He returned to Texas with undiagnosed post-traumatic stress. The only work he could find was as a driver and on the road he developed an addiction to amphetamines. Back home he beat his five daughters, who all left home as soon as they could. Jerry ended up as a model in Paris, where she was talent-spotted by a fashion agent. At 19, she posed on the cover of Roxy Music's album, Siren, and became engaged to the group's lead singer, Bryan Ferry. Then she met Jagger.

'Now I'm older I can look back in sympathy at why my father was so strict and difficult,' she says. 'But it's horrible for children and difficult when you haven't got a good role model. You don't know what to look for in a man. Mick was never violent. I would never have accepted that.' But cheating can be cruel, too. Jerry nods.

'Hey,' she says, stubbing out a cigarette. 'It's boring, too. And it's all such a long time ago. I'm comfortable in my skin now, because basically I do exactly what I like. And, who knows, I might yet get married again. I'm always open to meeting the right man.' She stands up; a six foot mass of long legs and honey coloured hair. Several heads turn to stare in the café. I'm sure there's a queue of decent blokes ready to fill Jerry's situation vacant. Rock stars and toyboys need not apply.

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23-08-2009
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That was a wonderful interview. Hope she makes the autobiography juicier then, and certainly better written than Tall tales

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iamthechildofthemoon.blogspot.com

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The images that went along with her Daily Mail interview... this was the cover story on the TV supplement on Saturday, my father bought it - and strangely, someone had gone through the copies in the shop and cut out one of Jerry's eyes on each cover, and on each copy, the incision was done in a neat square, perhaps to be used in some insane voodoo ritual where you need a supermodel's eye (dailymail.co.uk):

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^She looks lovely on that first picture. Thank you for the pix

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Surely, this must be Jerry?

from thebppa via some girls

Really shows how great those two were together
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File Type: jpg jerry thebppa.jpg (109.4 KB, 8 views)

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24-08-2009
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Quote:
Originally Posted by tigerrouge View Post
The images that went along with her Daily Mail interview... this was the cover story on the TV supplement on Saturday, my father bought it -and strangely, someone had gone through the copies in the shop and cut out one of Jerry's eyes on each cover, and on each copy, the incision was done in a neat square, perhaps to be used in some insane voodoo ritual where you need a supermodel's eye (dailymail.co.uk):
Wow.

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