Barry sat outside Iris’s bedroom door, his legs sprawled across the hallway. He knew that there was no arguing with Iris Ann West when she was set on something, when she got an idea in her head and wanted to run with it. But he had to try. Because going to a party populated with a bunch of kids who would gladly shove him in lockers if Iris weren’t around was not his ideal way of spending this Friday night. Or any night.
He would much rather be at home with his mom, watching some documentary on education or politics or food that she found on Netflix. And if it hadn’t been for the 911 text he’d gotten from Iris, he would be.
“Yes,” Iris said, throwing open her bedroom door, “you have to. You are literally required by the law to go with me to this party.”
“You dad isn’t the law, Iris.”
She shrugged. “He’s an officer of the law. It’s the same thing, really.” Iris looked at herself in the mirror by her door one last time, and opted to take off the jean crop jacket she’d thrown on. He watched her shrug it off and then pull her hair up into a ponytail before deciding that, too, was a bad look for the night. “What do you think?” she asked, opening up her arms and twisting her body so he got a full view of everything.
Summary : Joe is in a mission to get your Versace dress on the floor, it just so happens he managed to complete his mission.
A/N : Hello! Thanks for taking your time to read this, I worked hard on this and I really hope you guys like it.
The music filled the room with the chatter of all the guests. Walking, I head over to my husband Joe Sugg who hosted this get together party with Gleam. The party was mostly a reunion, mostly everyone in the Gleam management was pretty busy and that meant that no one has seen one another in a while. Joe hosted the party in Brighton, only because it was a sea side town and it was where we both met. The party was held in a beach house near the pier and it was the perfect day to host a party since the sun was shining. Scorching heat that you wouldn’t be really able to get usually in Brighton.
Everyone was to stay at a nearby hotel after the party since there would be a breakfast buffet the morning after. The party was summer themed, as it was summer months. Joe and I drove here with Caspar, Josh, Jim and Tanya with our land rover. All the youtubers were vlogging, no one would want to miss the opportunity to film a special moment in their lives. Here I am now, seated with a glass of champagne beside Joe.
“Care to dance my love?” Joe stands up from his seat, a hand coming up to his head to swipe back the growing barnet that I loved so much. I clutch his hand, letting him lead me to the dance floor where mostly everyone was dancing to this year’s new song hits. (It was mostly everyone since some were seated down, having a chat.)
Zoe suddenly notices my appearance and focuses her camera on me. “It’s my sister in law! Look how beautiful you are!” She gushes with amazement, her blue eyes that were a copy of Joe’s glimmering under the colored lights. The Suggs were definitely my favorite sibling pair. Zoe and Joe have so much similarities that every time I go meet with Zoe, she was just another spitting image of the man I fell in love with.
“Thank you! You are looking gorgeous!” With my arm, I curl it around her shoulders, pulling her closer to me. Totally ignoring Joe who pulled me to the dance floor. It was then Joe pulls me away from Zoe, saying “Stop stealing my wife!” In a playful manner.
I feel his breath against the skin of my neck, subtle goosebumps rising up both of my arms. His muscled arms, looping around my waist, softly swaying both of us to the rhythm of the music. “My wife is looking so damn hot.” Joe whispers against the shell of my ear, a shiver crawling up my spin and a gently rose blush creeping to my cheeks.
Grinning, I turn my head slightly, enough to see his eyes looking into mine with pure love. “Same goes for my husband.” He rubs his nose against mine subtly, pressing his forehead to mine in the process.
Joe had a couple of drinks but not to the point where he was considered drunk. Luckily, this time he was purely sober. “God woman, you’ve already gotten me slightly hard.” He breathes with a chuckle. A small giggle erupting from me, my face scrunching up with amusement. Joe was always horny bastard, after a few years of being single, he sure did miss getting laid. It seems that he’s been making up for the lost time.
“I didn’t even mean to turn you on, you wanker.” I informed, turning my head back straight as it was hurting a bit from it’s turned position. Joe nuzzles his nose against my cheek, humming and then pressing a kiss to my jawline. At this point I didn’t even care if someone was watching us, everyone was used to Joe and I being all lovely dopey and touchy. That’s why we can’t get a video finished it time, we end up making out that we have to cut it out during the edit. Joe even asked me to create a folder of my laptop desktop full of our cut out make out sessions.
“Yes, I wank to you all the time.” I slap his arm playfully, not expecting what he had replied to my statement. I inhale, breathing in his minty aftershave. His aftershave was one of my favorite scent to smell on him, when he shaves, I’m always watching him. He doesn’t take long to shave as he doesn’t grow that much of a stache. This morning he shaved, meaning I was sat on the counter top watching him shave off his stache in front of the hotel bathroom mirror.
“Please can we go back to the hotel? I need that versace on the floor.” He lowly growls into my ear, although he was also begging with need. With small weakening kisses to my neck, I tilt my head back giving him more of my neck to litter kisses on.
I bite my lip, “In a few baby, you’ve still got to wait for the party to finish.” Joe groans in response, a whine mixed to the tone. He withdraws from me, lightly slouching and a pout. A grin on my face forms as I watch Joe walk away with a pout from the rejection. My hand gently clutches my other one behind my back as I start to step towards Joe who now has sit down back on our table, arms crossed. “Babe, I promise. You will get me later, just wait for the party – that you hosted – to finish.”
His shoulders tensing as I slide my hands from his shoulders towards his chest, my upper body leaning down to his level. “Fine.” Joe grumbles, making me giggle at his frustration. I then go over to my chair across from him, his eyes immediately going to me, scanning my attire before a mischievous smirk appears on his sinful lips. “Underwear.” Joe speaks, leaving me a tad confused.
Joe leans forward, hands lay flat on the white silk covered table as he speaks lowly but audible for me to hear. “Take ‘em off.”
My eyes stare intently onto his blue ones that are no doubt clouding with lust. I look at him in confirmation before he gives me a nod, confirming what he told me. Biting my lips, my head sways from side to side, looking if anyone was paying attention to us. They were all preoccupied. I gulp, sliding my hands underneath the Versace dress I was wearing. Luckily the silk white sheet over the table was covering my movements.
I gripped my hem of my underwear, lifting my bum slightly off the chair so I could slip them out. Looking back over to Joe, I see a toothless smile over his lips as he watches me intently. I bite my lip, grinning as I reach under to grab the knicker that I have successfully taken off. Wordlessly, Joe ducks under the table, a surprised gasp escaping my lips as I see him grab my discarded underwear and sneakily stuffs it in his pocket.
My bikini line was bare and free from the knicker. Soft breezes of the cold room hits my core making me squirm on my chair. This was the first time Joe has ever done anything like this. Cheeky prick he is. I watch him; seeing him grab his champagne glass in front of him before taking a sip as his eyes remained on me.
It was then until the clock stroke 10 pm, Joe was now called by our manager Dom. “I’ll be right back, hot shots.” Joe winks, causing a small blush to appear on my cheeks.
Joe starts his ending speech; basically thanking everyone for coming and reminding them that there will be a breakfast buffet tomorrow morning before everyone claps.
I have said my goodbyes to everyone before Joe and I take our car to the hotel. Josh and Caspar weren’t coming with us since they suggested that they take an uber instead. Tanya and Jim has resulted to joining Zoe and Alfie in their mini, leaving me and Joe to have our car to ourselves.
“Lovely party that was, yeah?” Joe says, inserting the keys into the ignition before pulling out of the driveway.
After a nod of my head, I stay silent. The car journey was silent, mainly it was BBC Radio 1 softly playing in the background as I focus my gaze onto the view outside. Zoe took me literally all of Brighton with our friend Mark Ferris since we three were having a friend’s road trip. We even had a mini little photo shoot in the beach. I remember Zoe getting pooped by a seagull that day, Mark and I laughed so hard.
The car stops in front of the hotel, my eyes drifting towards Zoe’s mini, seeing as they got here first before everyone did. Joe loops his arm around my waist as we walk towards the lift. Our floor was 27 at this hotel had 30 floors.
Walking, I press the button that contained the number 27 on it. Joe and I were joined by other civilians inside the lift. When the lift doors has closed, Joe suddenly kneels down, hands going to tie his shoelace when a woman in front of us looked at him. But I was wrong, what surprised me is that he placed his hand on the back of my leg, trailing it upwards until it went nearer and nearer to my area.
He slips a finger inside of me, causing me to let out a soft gasp. My hands gripping my sling bag tightly. Nails digging in the material that they had use to create such an exquisite black leather bag.
Joe’s fingers circle my nub, my wetness making it slip with ease. My eyes hastily look up the ceiling, silently praying that no one is seeing my husband’s hand inside my dress and expertly touching me with his skilled hand.
“So wet, darling.” He rasps at my ear at a hushed voice, thrusting two fingers upwards.
A tortured moan gets stuck in my throat as the doors open, a few civilians going out. Joe repeats his rhythm. Pumping his fingers, suddenly thrusting them hard. His fingers reaching deep inside of me to find that spot that would make me loose my mind.
Well news flash, it would make me go crazy. I would have started getting vocal if there weren’t anyone inside the lift besides me and Joe. Instead, I am in the position, letting my horny arse husband touch me behind about 10 people in front of us.
Suddenly, the doors clicked again and I see the giant number 27 plastered making me feel relived. Joe pulls his fingers out, slipping them into his mouth casually as the civilians in front of us give us way to get out and once we do, I glare at Joe.
“You total arse.” I nudged him with my elbow, causing a genuine chuckle to escape his lips as we neared our hotel door. “That was in front of people, you dick.”
Joe slots in the key, pinning me instantly against the door once he has opened it - so we could enter - and closed it back when we were inside. Lips plump and swollen from the intense make-out session we were having, hands roaming each other’s desperately.
With skilled hands, his rushes to unzip my dress and let it fall in a pool beneath me on the floor. “Versace is on the floor.” Joe smiles at the black dress, unbuttoning his button down shirt before practically ripping off the clothing. He grabs my waist, pulling me to his lap once we’ve situated on the queen sized bed of the room. Tongue dancing with mine, hands splayed across the flesh of my bottom. Panting, I unbuckle his belt, slipping the leather item out of his jean belt hoops before carelessly throwing it to the floor.
I pause, taking this time to study Joe’s face. My index finger, tracing along his defined jaw line. “Admiring my face?” Joe raises a brow, thumbs rubbing smooth circles on my hips. I nodded, pushing his fringe back before I kiss him again. My hands entwined together behind his neck as I subtly roll my hips, mouth pulling away from his to release a gasp from the friction on my c.lit against his black skinny jeans. “Y'like rubbing on m'thigh little one?” He rasps, lips pressing against the juncture of my shoulder and neck, sucking a fresh hickey on the spot.
Nodding, I do it again. Rubbing my throbbing c.lit on his jeans that were no doubt stained with my arousal. Hot and bothered, I increase the pace of my hips, bringing myself closer to my high. That tight coil in my stomach, waiting for release. “Gonna cum, love?” Joe’s hands unclip the hooks of my bra, sliding the straps down my shoulder as I let my arms fall from his neck so he can get rid of my bra.
“Yes…” I sighed, lost in pleasure and the rush of adrenaline through my veins. But like always, Joe would always find a way to tease. In the blink of an eye, my back hits the mattress. Joe hurriedly getting his jeans off but leaving his boxers on. “C'mon.” I groaned, pushing my hips upwards so he was aware that I needed him.
He chuckles, pushing my hips back down against the mattress. “Gonna make your legs tremble and shake… make ‘em wobble tomorrow and everyone’s gonna see how hard I fucked ya.” Grabbing my wrists in his hands, he pins them above my head as his lips kiss down my chest.
“Joe…” I moan, prolonging the syllable of his name. Back arching as he takes my nipple in his mouth, teasing the hard nub with his tongue.
“So pretty for me, right sweets?” Joe breathed, taking my other nipple in his mouth, treating it the same way as the other. Whimpering, I arch my back giving him all of me. “Talk t'me, love.”
“What do you want me to say?” Eyes closed as Joe continues his assault with my breasts.
With my response, Joe chuckles pulling away my chest to drop a kiss to my lips before he brings my arms down - but still gripping on my wrist - pinning them to my hips this time. Automatically, I spread my legs, bringing my knees up.
He blows a puff of air onto my core, a buck of my hips is my response as my hands clench into fists. “Please… please…” I sighed, raising my head from the pillow to look at the man between my legs. “Just fuck me already.” I was needy, so needy that I didn’t want any more foreplay. But foreplay was apart of our sex, especially.
“Just a taste love, and then maybe you could take care of me before we fuck?” It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t. Either way, I couldn’t deny him. He’s been pleasing me more than I’ve been pleasing him. If he wanted me to take care of him, then I will.
Licking a length up my slit, I release a shaky gasp, eyes rolling back my head. His mouth latches on my bundle of nerves, his tongue swiping up and down, suckling afterwards. It’s when he pulls away with a dirty sound that I whine. Missing the contact on his tongue against my most private area. “Always delicious f'me,” He hazily says, as if he’s in a world that only includes me and him.
Connecting his mouth again to my mound, he’s savoring my taste no doubt. Mind filled with the thought of me cumming of his tongue. Joe’s licking and sucking with more desire. Eager to make me writhing beneath him. Suddenly my upper body lifts momentarily as if it’s pulled up when he gently nips.
Joe brings my hands towards his hair, pulling away from my c.lit. “Pull my hair, darling.” Grasping the soft strands, he goes back to my area, doing his work. I scratch his scalp softy as a praise.
“Joe…” I moaned, arching my back ever so slightly as I pull on his hair. It was then he starts thrusting his tongue against my pulsing hole that I gasp and hips buck into his face. “You’re so - so good - ah! Stop cutting me off!” I whined, causing Joe to chuckle. The vibrations of the sound against my mound making me go crazy and pull his hair a bit harder.
“Wanna cum, sweets?” He questions, barely running the tip of his finger against my entrance.
“Will you let me?” My toes curling from when he inserts his index finger knuckle deep and then pulling away; repeating his pattern.
I open my eyes to see Joe pursing his lips, as if in deep thought wether he’d let me cum or not. “I’ll let you cum… when I’m inside of you.” Joe concludes, an irritated sigh coming out of my mouth.
“Then just fuck me already.” Groaning, I begged.
Joe crawls up to meet my face, giving me a peck, he says “You still have to take care of me, love.”
Nodding, I sit up, rolling both of us over that I am now on top of him. I trace my fingertips over his abs, my finger subtly reaching towards the waist band of his Jack Wills boxers. “All those gym sessions has been changing a lot of you.” I remark as I dip a finger inside his boxers, that only reaches the thick waist band to pull it away from his hips, only to release it, letting it snap back against his skin.
“But not my dick, love.” Joe breathes, shutting his eyes clothes when I pressed my lips against his stomach. Rolling my eyes at his cockiness, I push my hand down against the growing bulge that lies underneath the fabric of his boxers. “Fuck…”
“Hashtag Joe has a big willy.” I grinned against his ear, pressing my kisses down his long neck. His neck was the perfect spot to leave love bites on, it always fascinated me how long his neck was. Giraffe boy, as he calls himself.
Chuckling breathlessly, he answers “Don’t remind me of Caspar’s brain freeze. My dick literally shrunk.”
Biting at the love bite I was making, I replied “Either way, you’ve got a big one.” Scratching my nails softly against his skin, I slide down his boxers down his legs. He kicks them off once and they were with the scattered mess of our clothes around our hotel room. Without hesitation, I wrap my hand around his length, a sharp intake of breath from Joe as a response.
“Y/N…” He softly moans, a grin covering my lips. Tapping my index finger against his tip, I moved down, kissing his torso on the way. His shaft, hard and big. “Hurry up, please.” Joe begs, pushing his hips towards my face.
Rolling my eyes playfully at how needy he is, I wrap my lips around his length. Scrapping my teeth against the skin of his c.ock, causing his to let out an agonizing groan. I suckle gently before pulling away. “You’re a good boy, right?”
Joe groans again, “Yes, I’m a good boy. I’m your good boy.”
Smirking, I pull his length with my hand - but not too harshly - kissing him roughly. “That’s great, baby boy. Now let me take good care of you.” Patting his cheek softly, I move back down, my lips engulfing his length again.
Licking against the underside of him, I sucked afterwards. His head falling back against the pillow, a “Holy fuck” escaping his lips. Taking more of him in my mouth, I bob my head up and down. Creating a motion where his c.ock slides in and out of my mouth.
My mouth pulls away from his c.ock with a sound. “Would you like to cum, baby boy?”
Joe shakes his head immediatly, “No. I want to come inside of you.”
Adjusting my position so my crotch was aligned with his, I slowly sink down. His length filling me up. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Moaning, he grasps my hips, helping me move on top of him.
My hips raising that only his tip remains inside of me, before I drop back down his c.ock with ease because of all the slickness of my arousal. Rocking my hips, back and fourth continously, I feel my orgasm at the edge, ready to be released. Gasping shakily, I connect our lips together, his tongue dancing with mine as I continue to thrust my hips to him.
“That feels really good, m'love.” Joe snaps our hips together, causing another gasp to escape my lips.
“Oh! I’m so close…” I groaned, nails digging onto his shoulders. It was then he started thrusting upwards that I nearly collapse on top of him. Teeth gnashing together, I was so nearly lost at these blissful actions.
Foreheads stuck together, he whispers softly “I love you.”
“I love you.” Pressing his lips against mine in a chaste kiss, that was when I released. Strings of curses flying out of my mouth as I rode out my orgasm, Joe coming after me. I pull out of him, body collapsing on top of his.
Exhausted, my head falls to Joe’s chest, pants escaping my mouth as I regain my strength. “Amazing.” He remarks, grabbing the duvet and cover both of us with the sheet, sheilding out bodies from the cool breeze that flows inside our room.
“Not so dominant, afterall huh?” Joe plays with the strands of my hair, chest rumbling with a breathy laugh.
“You’ve got me wrapped in your finger ever since, love.” He kisses my forehead, a content sigh following afterwards. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?”
Anita Pallenberg Interview with Alain Elkann, August 2016
Anita Pallenberg is an actress, model, and fashion designer. Born in Italy in 1944 she was the partner of the Rolling Stones’ guitarist Brian Jones and then the partner of Keith Richards.
Anita, you have worked in the worlds of cinema, music and fashion. Would you define yourself as an eclectic person?
I would say that my life has been based on charm, living life on charm. Just in order to show my father I spoke five languages, and my father said, “With that you will be a secretary.” Now that I have got older I very much appreciate that they forced me to be at least bilingual, Italian and German.
Were you educated in Italy?
I went to school in Germany and I did not go to school in Italy. I think I learned more in museums in Italy.
What did you think you would do in life?
I wanted to be an archaeologist or an anthropologist. I never did it.
How was your life in Rome when you were young?
Mario Schifano was my first boyfriend, and in Rome I was seeing other artists, intellectuals and friends from the cinema world. We used to meet at Caffe Rosati: people like Furio Colombo, Giorgio Franchetti, Cy Twombly, Giulio Turcato.
You met Brian Jones when you were 22 years old?
Yes, I met him in Germany where I was doing a modelling job and the photographer said there is a band playing and you should come, so I went to see them in Munich. I met Brian, who was speaking German and was very erudite. He said come with me, and we became friends. There were also the others like Keith and Mick there. At the time we were smoking hash and I used to travel with hash. I asked them, “Do you want some?” and Brian said, “Yes,” but his friends didn’t. Later I went on a tour in Germany with Brian. I was working as a model in Germany because they paid on the day, that’s why I liked to work there. In France or Italy they paid several days later.
Brian Jones, Anita Pallenberg and Keith Richards
Were the Rolling Stones already famous at the time?
No. They had not written ‘Satisfaction’ yet.
How did you change from being with Brian Jones to Keith Richards?
We were friends and we were together. We were taking loads of acid, but Brian had horrors and bad trips, he did not take acid well. When we got busted in London we all decided to go to Morocco and Brian started to get very violent. We went by car, a Bentley with a driver, and Brian got sick and ended up in hospital. He had asthma. He was very sickly, fragile. So Keith and I drove on and left him there, and that was when we had a physical relationship.
Keith Richards with his 1966 S3 Bentley Continental Flying Spur ‘Blue Lena’, named after jazz singer Lena Horne, in which he drove to Morocco in 1967 with Anita Pallenberg and Brian Jones, her boyfriend at the outset but by their return she was with Keith
That lasted 15 years?
He was the biological right man to be the father of my children. It was more respect and friendship than mad love. Keith is very generous. In those days we did not plan families. I certainly did not want to get married, but I got pregnant. And then because I had to do a film, ‘Performance’, I had to have a termination to do the film. I resented it very much, and so when I finished the film I got pregnant again. If you were not Sophia Loren with Carlo Ponti behind you it was difficult to be treated properly.
Which was your first film?
The first film I did when I was with Brian, he did the music with Jimi Page. It was a Volker Schlöndorff movie, ‘A Degree of Murder’. Then I played in ‘Barbarella’ with Jane Fonda. Roger Vadim was the director.
How was Vadim?
We were doing one take a day at around 6.30 in the evening. All day waiting. Probably I went into drugs because of that, it was so boring to wait. Vadim was funny. He thought he was a little boy and he behaved like a little boy. I spent a lot of time waiting on the set together with Jane Fonda. She had a very tragic life, and she was very professional. Keith was coming to see me, and Jane fell in love with him. After the film she came to our house in Cheyne Walk in London where I had Marlon my baby, and Keith did not let her in. She reminded him of his aunt.
What kind of person is Keith?
He is a musician. My father was a musician as well.
You saw a lot of Mick Jagger?
Me and Marianne Faithfull were always left alone, as Keith and Mick were recording and we were friends. We hung out together, taking drugs together, and we went to John Paul Getty’s house, the Rossetti House, because he was the last resort and he always had some drugs.
How was London in those days?
I always lived in Chelsea since we had a house, before that we were living in hotels. I was shocked in Chelsea by hippy girls who were walking barefoot in the Kings Road. I am Italian and in Italy shoes are a sign of wealth. Only very poor people walk without shoes.
Was Chelsea different at that time?
No, just that now there are more bars and coffee shops.
Fashion was different?
It was hippy time, but I never was a hippy. At that time I worked in ‘Dillinger is Dead’, a film by Marco Ferreri with Michel Piccoli and Annie Girardot. London was a little cliquey group of people who worked in galleries…. artists, musicians… some aristocrats. There were some parties and some events, like Ravi Shankar playing or something like that.
How was it to raise two children in such a lifestyle?
We were on the road a lot, travelling on tour, and I took my son everywhere. I did not send Marlon to school until he was 8 years old. I taught him how to read and write while Keith’s mother looked after my daughter. My daughter (Angela, also known as Dandelion) was born in Switzerland. I took her on the road, but with a girl it is different, sometimes it was an unsafe environment. The difficulty with Keith is that he sleeps all day, and ideally I had to be up with the children all day. I couldn’t have made the tours without the protection of drugs.
Anita Pallenberg with her family
Did you meet many interesting people?
I don’t think so. People are people. I was not a fan. I was not excited to meet John Lennon. It is not my personality. Of course I met John Lennon, and for me he was like an art student. I had a lot of respect for Jimmy Page, that’s about it. Sometimes we would go out to a club called ‘Ad Lib’, but I also used to go out by myself to see the Pink Floyd or Jimi Hendrix. I was not allowed to do it because all the rock stars are male chauvinists in their own camps. If you were in the Beatles’ camp, or the Who, you could not be in the Rolling Stones’.
Why did you break up with Keith?
Because of the growing of the children. My son also used to say to his father, “Dad, you are never there.”
What happened when you finished with Keith?
I was happy that I could score my own drugs. That’s the reality. I lived in Long Island and Westchester for about nine years. I was there alone with Marlon and Keith’s father, who lived with us in America as well. I had some boyfriends, but nothing serious. Then I came back to England to clean up from drugs and went to rehab. I was a very bad alcoholic and it took me twenty years to come out of it.
How did you manage to stop?
I went to rehab. I did a baccalaureate in textiles at Central St Martins. I studied.
You became a designer?
I was more interested in fabrics. Then I worked with Vivienne Westwood. I did a lot of things, all sorts of things to save my life.
Do you still think of drugs?
It is like the love of my life. It is a love affair I had to give up. I was on my own, my family did not want to see me. I was disgusting, aggressive, a very hard drinker. I was morose, not a happy drunk. I wanted to live. I took care of myself. I went to AA meetings and all that. People were dying, there was AIDS. It was a dark period.
You managed to stop all by yourself?
How can you stop if not by yourself. That’s the most important thing.
And you did it?
It is fourteen years now with no drugs, no alcohol. I should be able to say that I am thirty years clean. Then I had a relapse with magic mushrooms and I started the cycle again for another ten years. It is a big battle. Now it is finished, unless I get very sick and they prescribe me morphine, which they won’t! Today I can sit at a table in front of people who take cocaine or drink, without problems. I just get bored. People who drink get very boring. They repeat themselves and say the same thing over and over.
Where do you live when you are not in London?
Since four years I spend the winter in Jamaica. Rome is too cold in the winter and so I look after Keith’s house and garden in Jamaica where the climate is perfect, and I paint. I also went to Cuba and South America.
What about your children?
I see them, but they don’t come to Jamaica.
Do you feel Italian and still speak Italian?
Yes. Romana di Roma, Romanaccia. When I was young I was a so-called ‘Pariolina’ and then when I lived in New York in the 70s I realised that there are many Italian dialects in New York that they don’t speak in Italy any more. So I started to cultivate my Roman accent. Also I had a very great friend, the singer Gabriella Ferri, who was singing Roman songs. My children are English. My son speaks a little Spanish, but like all English people they don’t speak other languages.
How would you describe yourself?
A vagabond. An adventurer. I am not a person with one specific talent. I wish I was.
Was it difficult to find your identity?
I don’t want to get stuck in the 60s like platform shoes. Fashion is probably my closest thing, but I don’t like it. It is the thing I spend the most time on.
Who do you like in fashion?
Vivienne Westwood. Then I became a fashion style queen myself. They all want to take pictures of me and write articles about me and my style.
What is your style?
Boots, belts, cashmere, hats, sunglasses, furs as well. I am not politically correct. This is ruining the world. I like lamé fabrics, I worked in India for six months. I like jewelry, all jewelry. I used to wear a lot. Now I get more sensitive I can barely wear anything. I am not afraid of change at all. I think change is the best thing one can do, quite honestly. I do a lot of gardening. I love that. I have an allotment garden in London and grow Italian things. I do it with a German friend who grows German things like potatoes. I have a garden in Italy. I look after Marlon’s garden and Keith’s Jamaican garden. This year we had two crops of bananas for the first time. I paint and design. I do botanical paintings, an ancient art. I like everything that has been there for a long time. I love the Chelsea Physic Garden in London where I go for lunch from time to time. I stopped going out at night since the smoking ban.
How much do you smoke?
About twenty a day, but I am not a cancer person. I do yoga, and also bicycle.
Do you live by yourself?
I have lived alone for twenty years. If I want to see someone I call them, but I don’t like to be called. I have a couple of good friends from the Sixties. I don’t go out, now there are only paparazzi. I don’t like it, I am tired of it.
Are you still friends with Marianne Faithfull?
We are very close. Now she lives in Paris, but we have seen each other a lot recently. She is incredibly strong, talented.
I do not regret. I liked it better before, when political correctness did not exist and things were less tedious according to me.
Are you afraid to get older?
I am ready to die. I have done so much here. My Mum died at 94. I don’t want to lose my independence. Now I am over 70 and to be honest I did not think I would live over 40.