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Jerry Hall has driven just a mile or so up the C�te d�Azur from her beach house in her new racing green Peugeot 206 coupe cabriolet, its leather interior the colour of a Riviera playboy�s permatan. �I lurve it. I am in lurve with it,� she says. �The leather is just a shade or two darker than my own skin. I look very good in it.�
The car was a birthday present from Mick Jagger, Jerry�s ex-husband. Now, what kind of ex-husband does that? She says, eyebrows raised, her voice intentionally slurred for innuendo, �The best kind of ex-husband, that�s who! I�ve always dreamt of getting a car for my birthday. I�m a very lucky girl.�
Jerry�s voice comes from the throat and percolates up - not a drawl exactly, more creamy than a drawl, though it�s punctuated with hard, curdled Texan moments that make even the most innocent sentence sound almost lewd.
It�s not just her voice - her pose is pretty seductive too. But she�s trying very hard not to look like a model, because we are here today to meet the new Jerry Hall - not Jerry Hall the uber-mannequin, but Jerry Hall the actress.
Later this month, Jerry will be reading from Eve Ensler�s The Vagina Monologues at the New Ambassadors theatre in London. After that she takes the show to Broadway for two months. �I lurve the whole magic of the theatre,� she says. �I think it is an ancient, sacred thing, you know. I really do.�
For the full story and pictures of Jerry Hall, see this week�s HELLO! magazine, on sale now.
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