A Quote by Dawn French

If I were alive in Rubens's time, I'd be celebrated as a model. Kate Moss would be used as a paint brush. — © Dawn French
If I were alive in Rubens's time, I'd be celebrated as a model. Kate Moss would be used as a paint brush.
If I had been around when Rubens was painting, I would have been revered as a fabulous model. Kate Moss? Well, she would have been the paintbrush.
If Kate Moss hadn't been booked when she was 14, Kate Moss might not exist.
I shampoo and condition with Kerastase products but rarely brush it because I'm all about the Kate Moss bed-head look.
Kate Moss is small and not necessarily model dimensions but she has that special something.
I used to kind of go for it, right? Like, I'd be the one who would say, 'All right, there's Kate Moss. I'm going to try to make out with her.'
When I started working, the big models were people like Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss. It was a time when there were models who had real personalities and individuality.
Model Kate Moss, she looks fabulous in everything she wears.
I can remember years ago, when Kate Moss first came around and there were so many articles. Everyone was saying that it was heroin chic - that she was a waif, that she was anorexic. But Kate would eat just as much as anybody I knew - the media had just turned her into this thing. It must be really, really hard when you're the object of that.
There is only going to be one Kate Moss. Kate is an icon.
My style idols are people like Kate Hudson, the Olsen twins and of course Sienna Miller and Kate Moss- even Bridget Bardot.
Moss is inconceivably strong. Moss eats stone; scarcely anything, in return, eats moss. Moss dines upon boulders, slowly but devastatingly, in a meal that lasts for centuries. Given enough time, a colony of moss can turn a cliff into gravel, and turn that gravel into topsoil.
You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate, And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst; But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate, For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate, Take this of me, Kate of my consolation; Hearing thy mildness praised in every town, Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded, Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs, Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife.
I will look through 200 photographs of Kate Moss and there will be just one that I connect with for some reason, maybe because of the composition or something in the eye... Something touches me and I know I have to paint it, in the way a child knows it wants something.
What you do when you paint, you take a brush full of paint, get paint on the picture, and you have faith.
If I were a painter, I would paint beautiful bodies - I would paint nipples, and I would paint Bibles. Am I going to say, 'I'm not going to paint this woman's neck because people will think I just want to lick on necks?' Please! That's not what art is about.
What skilful limner e'er would choose To paint the rainbow's varying hues, Unless to mortal it were given To dip his brush in dyes of heaven?
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