Drained and ravished

I suppose winning the Nobel Prize for curing cancer would get me more brownie points, but being the man who took Jemima Khan to High Table at Trinity College, Oxford, feels almost as good. She’s something, that Jemima. Thin but voluptuous, with legs that remind me of Marlene Dietrich’s gams in Morocco, that black-and-white oldie in which she follows Foreign Legionnaire Gary Cooper walking barefoot in the desert sands.

Here’s a tip for you Jemima wannabes. I waited outside her house, and saw her return dishevelled at 5.45 from some classes she was taking. We were late and I was pressing her. She changed and dressed, and managed to emerge literally three minutes later without make-up, in a simple dress and fishnet stockings, proving beyond doubt that there’s no use trying. In other words, uglies need not waste money taking advice from Vogue or buying expensive beauty products. All that matters are good genes.