Kate Moss: ‘Have I always been true to myself? No. But I am now’

It’s a hot Wednesday afternoon and I’m sitting in Kate Moss’s living room at her west London home. I can hear her laugh coming from somewhere in the house. It’s a loud, raspy sound, forged from cigarettes and late nights, a cackling siren promising mischief and lots of fun. Framed prints of Warhol’s Diana Ross, a sepia samurai warrior and a young Bob Dylan mid-performance line the walls. There are books piled on every available surface: editions devoted to the photography of Bailey, Beaton and Tim Walker; fashion tomes on Dior and Saint Laurent, still in their shrink-wrap; and one curious title on the origins and practices of superstition. Huge chunks of Superman-like crystal fill the fire grate and, in the corner a pink vinyl of Elvis’s 40 Greatest rests on a turn-table. Suddenly, a small pomchi skids round the corner, drops at my feet and offers up his stomach. I oblige.

‘That’s Stanley,’ says Kate with a big smile. ‘Awww, look at him, he loves his tummy rubbing. He’s my baby.’ Dressed in a denim mini-skirt and an old T-shirt, flip-flops on her feet, this is off-duty Kate: a million miles from the image that’s launched countless luxury brands and magazine covers, but no less striking. To write that, at 48 years old, Kate Moss looks incredible is, frankly, a waste of word count — but she does, so there, I just did. ‘Let’s go down to the kitchen,’ she says, tucking Stanley under her arm.

The purpose of today’s interview is to discuss her new appointment as creative director of Diet Coke. It’s been a decade since the brand, celebrating its 40th anniversary, last filled the role; fashion titans Karl Lagerfeld, Marc Jacobs and Jean Paul Gaultier have all previously held the position. ‘I was honoured to be asked because I’m not a designer,’ she says, lighting a cigarette, ‘but I’ve been in the industry for a long time.’ Thirty-two years and counting, to be precise.

The five ‘Diet Coke by Kate Moss’ cans she has designed are laid out on the white kitchen worktop in front of us, each inspired by one of her signature styles: camouflage, denim, lace and leopard, plus an exclusive glitter edition. What would Lagerfeld, the late, great Kaiser of couture, have to say about them? ‘He was very funny, his sense of humour was amazing,’ she says, ‘so whether he liked them or not, he’d tell me the truth, for sure.’ She found the whole process of creative direction easy because, she says with brilliant clarity, ‘I know what I like.’ What other traits helped her in the role? ‘I’m a perfectionist, definitely. A bit OCD,’ she admits, but draws the line at control freak. ‘No, I hope not. I don’t like that phrase. I’m not a control freak because you have to be open to other ideas. It’s always collaborative.’

At this point, it’s worth pointing out that a one-on-one with Kate Moss is a rare-as-hen’s-teeth event. Talking to a journalist is not her favourite way to spend an hour; she would rather let the images do the talking and stick to the old adage of ‘never complain, never explain’. I get it, but it’s a shame because she’s so easy to like and a natural storyteller. Yes, certain subjects are strictly off limits — her personal life, relationships and that recent courtroom appearance — but her answers are reflective and honest, peppered with squeals of joy, and unrehearsed. She’s also a courteous host: during our chat, she keeps my glass of water filled with ice, running back to an American-sized fridge; it’s so packed with food (I also spy Diet Coke cans lined up inside) that she struggles to open the door. Is she a good cook? Kate gives a nonchalant shrug and says her signature dish is roast chicken.

Back to the topic du jour: ‘Diet Coke by Kate Moss’. As with most things she does, it soon became a family affair. The illustration of Kate’s face on all the cans is taken from a drawing her friend Tim Rockins created for her 40th birthday: ‘It was me in a top hat, he put it on a scarf as a present for my Rock’n’Roll Circus party.’ When it came time for the campaign shoot, she enrolled super stylist Katy England, who is part of her inner sanctum. For Kate, it’s about feeling protected on set, surrounded by people she trusts and having fun.

‘We were dancing around the dressing room, we had music, we had frankincense…’ What? Who brought that? ‘I did, of course.’ How times have changed. Kate didn’t think she had met the campaign’s photographer, Quentin Jones, before but, needless to say, she had. ‘It turns out I’d met her on a pontoon in Jamaica, she was pregnant then and I thought she was the most beautiful pregnant woman.’ It also transpired that Nikolai von Bismarck, Kate’s partner, is the godfather.

She opens the glass doors on to a small walled patio. Laying outside, Archie, a tired looking staffy-vizsla cross, blinks in the sunlight, trying to ignore young Stanley hop - ping around his heels. ‘Archie’s such a tolerant old boy,’ she says, reaching for a nearby ashtray. Glastonbury is just a few days away and she’s wondering if she should take the dogs with her — she’s staying somewhere off-site so it could work. She has lost count of how many times she’s been to the festival but she is excited to be returning and to see Paul McCartney’s headline performance. (In the end, Stanley and Archie do tag along and Kate is photographed back - stage nestling into Bruce Springsteen’s chest.)

I tell her I’m off to see the Rolling Stones in Hyde Park at the weekend. ‘Major!’ she roars. Anita Pallenberg — Sixties it-girl, Stones muse and partner of Keith Richards — is her forever style icon. ‘We would shop together, she’d give me things and I’d give her things. She was just f***ing cool. The coolest. Her and Keith used to share trousers. There aren’t any trousers in her archive because they’re all in the Rolling Stones archive!’

Speaking of which, how did she tackle the herculean task of pulling clothes from her own archive for the Diet Coke shoot? Simple: she didn’t, she sent Katy England in. ‘It’s too much for me,’ she says, ‘I can’t go in there, it’s too over-whelming.’ Housed inside the ‘party barn’ at her Cotswolds home — ‘it’s a big barn,’ she stresses — it’s clearly no ordinary wardrobe situation. ‘There are just rails and rails of my clothes, years and years of outfits I’ve worn. Seeing the archive is like layers upon layers of memories of my life. It’s always emotional because everything has a memory.’ A team of assistants has now organised the entire collection into sections — little black dresses, evening gowns etc — with every piece itemised, photographed and numbered. Next, it’ll all be uploaded to a database.

Kate still claims not to be a hoarder. ‘I give away a lot of stuff to charity,’ she protests. ‘Once every couple of years I go through the exhausting experience of trying everything on and deciding if it’s for the archive, charity or current use. Or Lila: she gets whatever I think is never going to fit me again. I keep anything that has a memory.’