I love Kate Moss.

While my girlfriend, bless her, carried a long-lit torch for the Spice Girl formerly known as Sporty (which finally died last week, incidentally, with Mel C’s dumb-as-a-post Australian appearance), Kate was always my secret celebrity love.

And God, Kate is so hot right now.

Sure, the model formerly known as Super is copping some bad press, and it’s quite justified. She got busted racking up line after line of cocaine, allegedly, and, also allegedly, serving most of said lines up -“ good hostess style -“ to a roomful of what can only be reasonably called lucky bastards. A grainy photo on the cover of the Daily Mirror was unmistakably her: long legs, gorgeous boots. Even at her worst, she still looked the perfect hot-Gen-X-poster-girl.

And then, if that weren’t enough, the Kate In Alleged Hard-Core Alleged Lesbian Orgies! headlines started. Like a celebrity scandal layer cake, the headlines kept a’coming. Kate allegedly had sex with her best friend’s husband -“ but come on. It was allegedly Jude Law. Everyone has allegedly had sex with him. Kate has allegedly got stuck into horse drugs and allegedly smoked crack with her alleged boyfriend.

How I cheered. Not because I cheer people doing ridiculous amounts of drugs, mind, or because I cheer when I see people get kicked around by the tabloids, unless it’s Shane Warne. I cheered because in an industry full of people who pretend to care about stuff, our Kate is still out there, still not giving a shit, still being bad. She has always been the supermodel without a cause, putting the chic in heroin chic, a James Dean-esque fag burning away in stained fingers.

And despite the fact that she’s a mother -“ in name at least -“ she’s still kicking on, and I admire that. The rest of us in the family way can only imagine the logistical difficulties of fitting in an alleged cocaine-hoovering, celebrity lesbian three-way session around a baby’s often-chaotic sleeping patterns.

So here’s to you, Miss Moss. The cosmetic companies might think you’re bad for business, but you can be all doe-eyed and pouty for the rest of us any time. And if there’s a badly shot home movie floating around somewhere, can someone please send me the link?

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