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Rupert Everett: [206] [207]
"At 18 I sniffed poppers with Hardy Amies, danced at a nightclub with Rudolf Nureyev and dined in Paris with Andy Warhol and Bianca Jagger. I knew what it was to be drunk on fame by association. Yet everything was a pale imitation of the impact Madonna made on me. We met by chance.""When I first met Madonna she really was one of the only women that whether you were gay or straight or an animal she demanded a sexual response some how, something inside her and everybody was turned on by her, everybody!""She was raucous but poised, elegant but common. She had the cupid-bow lips of a silent screen star, and it was obvious that she was playing with Sean underneath the table throughout the meal.""She was tiny and luscious with long auburn hair, slightly curled. She sat down. Sean’s forget-me-not eyes watered with adoration. Hers were the palest blue, strangely wide-set, any further and she would look insane, or inbred. When they looked in your direction, you froze.""In no way was she conventionally beautiful. She was a bit like a Picasso. When she fixed you with her regard, there was a tenderness and warmth that made your skin bump, but when she looked away, it was like sunbathing on a cold day and suddenly a cloud comes.""She was mesmerizing. She oozed sex and demanded a sexual response from everyone. It didn’t matter if you were gay. You were swept up all the same. In those early years there was no male who would not want to bed her.""...I lost myself in Madonna’s attention and by the end I had fallen in love." | ||
