The end of an era for the glam showbiz couple or yet another publicity stunt by two paparazzi loving luvvies?
After 13 years it seems the Liz Hurley/Hugh Grant relationship has come to an unfortunate head.
Several blockbusters, a few million pounds of modelling contracts, four thousand photo calls, not forgetting THAT dress (her) and THAT almost earth shattering incident (him), have apparently finished amicably with a friendly split.
Gorgeous Liz, the face of Estee Lauder and the most memorable body ever to squeeze into Versace, first met Mr. Floppy Hair in 1987 on the set of the Spanish film ‘Rowing in the Wind’.
Hugh played that Casanova of English poets, Lord Byron, while she reportedly fell for his gentlemanly manners and the sight of him stuffed into tight white riding breeches -umm.
At first she was just a pretty girl in a glam dress for him to wear on his arm -remember the premier of Four Weddings and a Funeral, where she stole the show?
But after his globally published arrest, Liz’s IQ proved to go further than those plunging necklines. She kept her cool even though her boyfriend’s appetite for phallatio had taken him to the streets of LA and into the lips of a certain Miss Divine Brown.
A short split followed though they were soon back on. Liz swallowed her pride and politely chose not to get mad but even.
The brains used the beauty as she became a successful model in her own right, substituting scorn for mega-bucks beauty deals.
Although we all thought it would end with the big white wedding, Hugh then admitted that Liz hadn’t fancied him for years and hinted their relationship had become more of a business association.
Some years later they proved the professional partnership certainly worked, as the pair have grown to be the hottest couple in the British movie aristocracy since Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton.
While the press-photographers mourn the loss of the lengthiest photo-call in showbiz history, tabloid gossip-columnists are cautious with their sympathy leaving us wondering, what do they know that we don’t?
I have my own ideas for the break-up:
1. 13 years of “Liz, I’d like to tell you that, that, well, I, I, I’m just trying to say, shittity-brickity, what do I mean? I mean, I think I , I…” What sounds like an attractive speech defect can wear thin when a lady must protest that all she wants to hear is a simple I love you.
2. His hair. Yes-floppy mop, soppy gob boyish charm does tend to fade when all you want is a real man.(Note: at a recent bash Liz was harassed by drunks so hero Hugh rushed to her defence by stepping into, er, call security on his mobile?) A slight indication of testosterone would not have gone amiss here.
3. Her endless partying in town, fetish for safety pins, endless flirting and play pen tantrums when asked to sun-bath without her dummy. It all takes its toll on a chap that only wants a quaffable jug of Pimms on a sunny English afternoon down at the village cricket ground.
4. Frequently snapped wearing the ubiquitous diamonte cross necklace, we speculate if Liz has turned to God to help her through the split. Well that or Lauryn Hill’s Miseducation Album track nine: “Father you saved me and showed me that life was much more than being some foolish man’s wife.”
Divine Brown will no doubt voice her opinion on the matter, hopefully Hugh’s response to any advances will be to blow her out big-time.
Maybe it is a cunning stunt for more coverage, whatever, the Lord and Lady of movie-stardom have resigned. Lets just all pray that Posh and Becks don’t attempt acting to try and extend their self-imposed rule onto the film circuit.