I am sitting in a bustling Paris bistro waiting for one of the world's greatest style icons to arrive. The scene is charming and very French but it's loud and there's barely enough room to swing a cat. Trying to perch on a tiny stool after cramming my wheelie suitcase awkwardly under the table, I'm wondering how on earth I'm going to hear a word the legendary Jane Birkin – actress, singer, model and epitome of 1960s chic and glamour – is going to say.When Jane, 75, arrives sans make-up, hair wild and free, wearing a long khaki puffer coat with her bulldog Bella in tow, you almost feel the room stop. As we squish in next to one another, half the customers, along with a few starstruck waiters, appear to be not-so-subtly ear-wigging our conversation. Jane lives in a flat nearby and, even though she often pops into the bistro to people watch and answer emails (she tells me she's already been here the day we meet for coffee with her daughter, the actress and singer Charlotte Gainsbourg), her presence captivates those around her.
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