Jamie Hince and Kate Moss
KATE MOSS never used to speak. That was kind of her thing.
She was a model, a muse and mute. Seen and not heard. Seen doing all sorts of things, many of them glamorous, some of them a little bit naughty, some of them very, very naughty.
For the first two decades of her career, she spoke publicly twice – once briefly for a David Bailey documentary about models which revealed her as the owner of a croaky little Croydon voice and then again when Richard Branson persuaded her to help him sell us mobile phones.
When she launched her first campaign for Rimmel a decade ago, she was happy to implore women to "Get the London look" but that was about the limit of her vocal exercise.
She wouldn’t dream of appearing on a chat show and magazine interviews were strictly limited to fashion/beauty Q&As and even they were only available when she had a product to promote, such as her eponymous range for Topshop.
This refusal to open up only added to the Moss allure. It made her mysterious.
So long as Mossy didn't tell us what she was really up to, we were free to imagine.
And most of us imagined her playing out a hedonistic life of parties and private jets, skipping from continent to continent garbed in the most gorgeous of garments.
Well, in fairness, that was largely what she was doing if the paparazzi pics are anything to go by.
But, recently, Ms Moss - whose tight-lippedness has helped earn her more than £46m since she was discovered as a skinny teen at New York's JFK Airport – has found her voice.
She has started talking and shows little sign of stopping. This month, she spilled her guts to Vanity Fair magazine discussing everything from her body insecurities to her split from Johnny Depp (she was utterly broken hearted, in case you haven’t heard) and her marathon partying sessions.
Now there is talk of the 38-year-old mother-of-one taking part in a reality show. Albeit they are calling it a documentary.
Word is that a film crew will follow her as she promotes her new coffee table book (Oh, Santa, if you are reading this, I really hope you pre-ordered my copy on Amazon, these babies are going to sell like the proverbial warm pastries).
As a fan of hers since she first posed on that beach all scrawny legs and wide-eyed innocence for Corinne Day, I have mixed feelings about Kate being sucked into the murky world of reality TV.
On the one hand, I am intrigued to get a glimpse inside her gilded existence to see her friends, where she shops . . . how she chooses her clothes each day.
But, on the other, I fear that getting too close to such an icon is like sitting on the front row at the theatre – the magic is lost. What if it turns out she is actually quite normal?
What if, instead of spending her evenings pole dancing for husband Jamie in Agent Provocateur’s finest and smoking Gauloises, Kate watches the Kardashians on the couch in her tracksuit?
What if she doesn't actually bathe in Bollinger but good old Imperial Leather and when she's not out partying is in bed by 10pm?
Kate Moss: The Movie could shatter all our illusions about the world's most famous face.
Oh, who cares . . . pass the popcorn, would you?