Just as she's trying to prove to the world that she is more than just
a pretty face, Elizabeth Hurley is picked from a list of the world's
most beautiful women to become the face of Estee Lauder -- which will
bring her fame and fortune, and should do no harm to her acting career
either, as
Allan Laing explains
USING two pieces of black sticky-backed plastic, the cardboard bit
from a toilet roll, and 24 over-sized safety pins, the presenters of
Blue Peter could probably make an Elizabeth Hurley. The one that was
made earlier has now been launched as the face to sell a million powder
puff compacts for Estee Lauder, the international cosmetics giant.
Miss Hurley, of whom it has been said ''Is there no start to this
woman's talents?'' is determined to prove that she is not just a pretty
face. It will not be easy for the poor girl. Mind you, it is
scandalously unfair to describe her as no more than a ''pretty face''.
Any fool knows that she is also the proud possessor of a stunning figure
which (it is worth noting in this age of silicon implants) is all her
own work. In fact, she is drop-dead gorgeous.
Her great claim to fame, for the moment at least, is that she is the
girlfriend of Four Weddings and a Funeral star, Hugh ''Cary'' Grant. But
it should be remembered that she is an actress in her own right, the
highlight of her distinguished cinematic career to date being the
portrayal of a flight attendant (the dolly with a trolley) in the
thriller Passenger 57, a film which curiously missed out on the Oscar
nominations.
In most people's minds, however, she is best remembered for her
remarkable performance during last year's London premiere of Four
Weddings where she turned up wearing what could only be described as
almost a black silk Versace dress. Unfortunately, in all the
Hurley-burly, Mr Versace had forgotten to sew the seams together.
Other highlights of her career include turning on the Christmas lights
in London's Bond Street last year and being smacked about by a gang of
female muggers as she made her way home one night.
Of Elizabeth Hurley a hot-blooded man's dreams are made. She is, to
employ the West of Scotland venacular, a strapping lassie. Recently the
discerning readers of Penthouse magazine voted her the woman they would
most like to see in the altogether (though this particular accolade must
be seen in perspective; Anthea Turner was a runner-up). Still, it is
perhaps ironic that, in her teenage punk phase, during which she sported
a rather fetching silver ring in her nose, Ms Hurley performed in a
dance troupe called Vile Bodies.
She was born in Basingstoke some 29 years ago, the daughter of an Army
major father and a piano teacher mother. She went to a local
comprehensive from which she was expelled in her sixth year. She was, by
all accounts, a kenspeckle figure among shoppers in Basingstoke High
Street of a Saturday afternoon with her blonde-dyed hair, leather mini
skirt, and studded dog collar. It was around this time that she started
stepping out with a punk chap called Septic.
In her early 20s, having discarded both her punk image and poor old
Septic, she went to drama school in London and emerged an actress. To be
serious, she did make a genuinely stunning television debut as the
eponymous heroine in Christabel, Dennis Potter's film about an
Englishwoman's experiences in Nazi Germany. Her performance was
critically acclaimed.
The problem was that she peaked too soon. Since then she has made the
occasional appearance in television dramas and a handful of obscure
small-scale independent feature films (The Orchid House, Beyond Bedlam,
Skipper, and Aria). In a determined bid to expand her professional
horizons, she settled in Hollywood for two years, where -- to be honest
-- she hardly set the heather on fire.
It has been suggested that her failure in America was not unconnected
with the fact that, despite spending money on voice coaching, she failed
to master the Yankie accent. Her acting talents were certainly not
stretched to the limit in Passenger 57.
Today (and probably tomorrow and maybe even the next day) she shares a
London home with the slightly-more-famous Mr Grant. Together they make
the perfect showbiz couple, a pret-a-porter Liz Taylor and Richard
Burton, the plain man's Branagh and Thompson. Mr Grant clearly has faith
in his partner's abilities, having appointed her ''head of development''
at his own Simian Films company. He was, by the way, obliging enough to
turn up at Estee Lauder's Manhattan press launch for Ms Hurley
yesterday. She was the one in the tight-fitting yellow two-piece; he was
the one who looked like a badly-packed parachute.
Now, with her new make-up contract, Ms Hurley will be famous for being
even more famous. It will not only make her rich it will also keep her
supplied in lipstick for the foreseeable future. Wisely, she has chosen
to accentuate the positive in pursuance of her career's development. She
is a beautiful woman, possessed of that English rose poshness and
sophistication which the American market will adore. She claims, by the
way, that she eats like a pig, takes no exercise, and shuns beauty
treatments.
According to the cosmetics company, whose products have previously
been associated with the, shall we say, ''more mature'' woman, the
search to find a replacement for their previous face (supermodel Paulina
Porizkova) took them two years. Fifteen of the most beautiful women in
the world were seriously considered. Ms Hurley won through thanks to her
''warm and charismatic beauty''
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