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Lara Stone sits with bleached eyebrows lowered to eye level, cheeks sucked in and grunts in her direct Dutch drawl, “will you stop asking me questions about my tits?” “Oops sorry, but the world seems rather obsessed with them…”
Since Lara shot with Carine Roitfeld for French Vogue three years ago, the then unknown model – who had been working for some 10 years in the game (which marks her decidedly long in the gappy tooth by fashion standards), has turned the fashion world upside down thanks to her negative attitude, her imperfect teeth and those enormous, perfectly formed and magnificent breasts. They are a powerful force, cover stars in their own right, they could turn gay men straight, straight girls gay and hopefully mark a decided turn in the trend for skinny girls in favour of a more powerful female form, with a little meat hugging their elegant bones. Lara’s shape is loud and proud, so get used to it. She is what men want to be with and what most women would want to look like, but ever since Riccardo Tisci paraded her down the catwalk to walk for Givenchy couture, debate has been fuelled by burning bras the world over, as to how, where, why and who exactly is this girl?
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