How are you feeling now your big four-0 has arrived? Hungover? Knackered? Raring to go? Still in bed?
I know you’ll probably never read this letter – *sighs* – however I just wanted to take some time out of my day to write to you, on this very auspicious birthday of yours.
Before we get started, I’ve a little confession to make. Because you see, although you are now my favourite of all the supers, I have to admit you weren’t my first love. Or in fact, even my second. Nope. My first supermodel crush was Cindy Crawford. ( That hair, that mole, that body!) And the second was Helena Christensen.( That hair, that face, that body!)
You were my third supermodel crush. Numero three. But yet, out of all them, my appreciation and girl love for you has endured the most.
For starters, out of all the models, you seem well, the most ‘normal’. Your beauty is undeniably exquisite (no one in my opinion takes a better photo than you) but yet also very ‘real’. Don’t get me wrong, Cindy and Helena are out of this world, but that’s the problem, they just don’t look like they belong on this planet. Whereas you lovely Kate, look a bit more like the rest of us, just a gazillion times better.
As a self conscious teenager, growing into my figure, I have much to thank you for because you taught me that small breasts can indeed be beautiful. And incredibly chic too.
So much so, that when the class clown at school used to call me ‘ironing board’, I’d just smile at him sweetly, secure in my looks, thinking you really haven’t got a bloody clue mate. Thanks to you, I’ve never wanted a bigger chest or bra size and am genuinely happy with my (little) lot.
When it comes to style and make up, nobody has inspired me quite like you. You brought skinny jeans to the high street and into my wardrobe (for which I will always be grateful) proved the fact that nothing says ‘party’ like a sequin or two and introduced me to the delights of preloved clothing.
You may have access to the world’s most breathtaking couture but you’ll still happily swing a £2.99 bag from your shoulders. You know style and appreciate a good bargain too, which makes you definitely my kind of gal.
Make up wise, nobody – I repeat – nobody rocks a smokey eye quite like you. Your addiction to heavy, dirty, black kohl is one I totally get. Like you, I feel completely underdressed without my sooty peepers. However, always the chameleon, you can definitely pull off a mean poutalicious look too.
You dated the first man I ever swooned over (I’m talking Johnny of course) but yet I wasn’t even so much as a tiny bit jealous because together, you two, were just so god damn beautiful. I still don’t think I’ve ever quite gotten over the fact that you are no longer together, because whenever I think of couple heaven, you are it.
When you dated Pete Doherty, I thought you were out of your mind, but then I saw, that you’re just a sucker for romance which made me like you even more. Being brought down by a bad boy is definitely something I can relate to and like me, you won’t be the first or the last woman to be a casualty of love.
Throughout your career, you’ve had some amazing highs but also a few damning lows and yet throughout it all, you’ve kept your silence, held on to your dignity and come back fighting, to evolve bigger and better than ever before.
I adore your boldness and love the fact that you take risks and and seek adventure, when everyone else is too frightened and only wants to play it safe. You reinvent, you take a gamble and go after life’s thrills with relish. A pleasure seeker, but also a smart cookie, you sure as hell know how to work and, more importantly, how to live.
I once read, that part of your success is down to the fact that you are just such a nice person. That you are genuinely caring and interested in others, from Anna Wintour to the tea lady who serves you a cuppa between wardrobe changes. That before you leave every shoot, you take the time to individually thank every single person on the team. Whether that’s true or not, I will of course never know, but it warms the cockles of my heart to think it.
Obviously, I couldn’t write you a letter without mentioning your wild antics because let’s face it, as party goers go, you’re up there with the best of ’em. Your status as a party girl is legendary (is it really true what went on at your 30th?!) and whilst some people (like the Daily Fail) may mock and ridicule that, I think they’re just jealous that they never got an invite.
Recently, when some old pictures popped up on social media of me, as a raving teenager, dancing in my bra and pants, a friend said to me: ” It looks like you could have given Kate Moss a run for her money back then.” You should know Kate, that this is one of the greatest compliments I’ve ever received.
When I see pics of you out on the town, I always think, now THAT is a lady who knows how to party and enjoy life. You always look like you’re having a ball! Your love for your mates is pretty obvious too. Old and young, arty and cool, famous and not so famous, you sure seem to have a wonderful, eclectic bunch of pals. Heck, if you’re ever looking for a good ol’ Northern girl to add to the party, you know where I am.
Kate, on this, your special birthday, I just wanted to say a little thank you. For being you. For being someone unashamedly fearless of having a good time, working hard, squeezing every last drop out of life and being nice to others.
I truly hope that your birthday celebrations are as wild as we will all be made to believe. But who knows, you may just leave the champagne alone and opt for a quiet one pottering around your local garden centre instead.
Although, (between you and I), I’m really, really hoping you don’t.