Edie Campbell and the minx effect

Edie Campbell is fashion's latest darling, the girl everyone wants. Mario Testino booked her for a Burberry group shot when she was only 15 and made her stand right in front of Kate Moss; now, at 19, fresh out of St Paul's Girls' School, she has already starred in Marc Jacobs and Stella McCartney campaigns. In December she will feature as one of

She is polite and professional when she's being photographed, of course, but our first conversation, snatched during ES's photo shoot, is a bit of a shock. We're talking about London – she grew up in Westbourne Grove and still lives there, with her father Roddy Campbell, a fund manager – but when I ask her which is best, East London or West London, she shrugs. 'There are arseholes everywhere, aren't there?'

For our interview proper we move to Shoreditch House, where she orders a Bloody Mary and looks scathingly around the pool ('That man's shoes are so tight he can't walk properly'). Sitting cross-legged opposite me, she's a perfect exemplar of gamine style, so I ask her to talk me through what she is wearing today. It turns out she takes the 'boyfriend' clothing trend literally. She's sporting white ankle socks, which belong to Johnny, cut-off denim shorts, ditto, white shirt, ditto, and a belt which belongs to a friend of Johnny. Her Comme des Garçons scarf and Japanese working man's jacket, stitched with a geometric web, belong to her mother, former Vogue fashion editor turned architect Sophie Hicks. 'I try to dress in a really unfashiony way. The only things that are actually mine today are my shoes,' she concludes, looking down at a pair of well-worn Church's brogues. Is Alexa Chung a style inspiration? 'Mmmnah. Maybe she has style. It's hard to separate the hype from the product.'

Edie knows her own mind. She likes people thinking she's a 'bimbo model' because it means she can surprise them with a bitchy comment 'right between the ribs'. 'Most models are stupid, sure, but they're just an arbitrary cross-section of people who happen to have the right genetics. Most people are stupid. Most people make you want to slam your head against a door' Including, at first, her boyfriend. 'I thought he would be a f***ing dickhead. Of course I liked his music – I was an indie kid at the right time – but I had never met him. I was very, very judgemental and a very negative person and I expected him to be a wanky pop star.' She has now reversed that judgement, clearly happy in their year-long relationship and exercising full rights over his wardrobe, even though they don't live together. 'We don't have keys to each other's flats that would be a step too far,' she says, imitating a parental voice.

Edith Blanche Campbell grew up in a home that had a site-specific work by Richard Long, the prominent British land artist, on the dining-room wall (a circle of mud prints from the River Avon). She first appeared in British Vogue aged five, photographed by Arthur Elgort, for an article about her mother's architectural practice. (Sophie Hicks has designed stores for Yamamoto, Chloé and Paul Smith, as well as homes for clients including the magazine publisher Neil Mendoza and Simon and Yasmin Le Bon.) 'I suppose it was quite an aesthetic childhood. If my mum saw something beautiful we would be encouraged to notice it, too.' Edie is starting a degree in art history at The Courtauld Institute in October; her favourite place in London is the Rothko room at Tate Modern. 'It's like a womb. When I leave, I feel like a newborn baby, scared by all these bright colours and uncouth people.' Reproductions of Rothko, however, are 'pointless' and the recent exhibition about him was 'crap'.

Edie's disdainful pout – now in such high demand –started off as a teenage sulk. 'I do stroppy quite well. I was such a cow when I was younger.' Slamming doors? 'Yes. Not saying hello when I woke up in the morning, just walking in and munching Coco Pops in silence. I was a nightmare. I just didn't know how to be a nice adult. I would have kicked me out of the house.' Was there a reason? 'I'm sure there was.' She is the middle child, with an older brother, Arthur, and a younger sister, Olympia, and a younger step-sibling she humorously calls 'an appendage'. Her parents split up when she was 14, which kick-started her moods. 'I'm sure it had something to do with my grumpiness. But it was very amiable, as splits go.'

Edie found solace in riding, and with her horse Dolly she now competes as an eventer
at a national level. 'It's the best antidote to modelling. To go from wearing £4,000 shoes to something so different is wonderful. It just takes so much patience and discipline and hard work. It's all about your relationship with your horse, which you have to build slowly.' And there's no bullshit? 'Exactly. Just horse shit. A lot of it.'

How did she meet Borrell? 'Through an ex-boyfriend,' she says with an air of sophistication. As a teen at a London day school, she got 'the whole going-out thing' out of her system early. 'As soon as I looked vaguely old enough I bought my fake ID online and went clubbing in Soho – Madame Jojo's, Smash and Grab at Punk.' At 15, she dyed her hair blue, wore a lot of black eyeliner, and leopardskin stockings with a pink band at the top. 'Super-tarty! I had to put Sellotape round them to hold them up because my legs were too thin.'

Her blue hair was just washing out when she was picked for the Marc Jacobs campaign. 'Luckily it looked quite cool – almost green.' Testino became a supporter – 'So, so kind of him' – and Lucinda Chambers, fashion director of British Vogue, is another fan, saying, 'We were the first to feature her. She's incredibly confident and straightforward. Her beauty has become more unusual as she's grown up and with those big eyes and long figure she can be taken in many different directions. When we shot her recently I was impressed at how easy she was in front of the camera – most girls her age are self-conscious and try to emulate what they've seen elsewhere. But Edie has an inner strength and confidence that is amazing.'

Campbell thinks she has earned more than her mother this year. She doesn't dye her hair or wear make-up; she is now old enough to stop trying to look older.

She has become used to the paparazzi pouncing on her and Johnny, shouting 'Gotcha!' Despite the age difference (he is 30) they seem well-matched, both brainy and slightly detached from the fashion world they inhabit. 'There's more to him than white jeans and a guitar,' she says. 'He thinks a lot and he's very bright.' Born in North London, he is a self-proclaimed autodidact and a very well-read rock star – he sits on the editorial board of art publisher Tacit Hill, for example – while Edie's favourite authors are Steinbeck, Vonnegut and Mann (during breaks on our photo shoot, she keeps dipping into Michael Chabon's Wonder Boys). She talks happily about their recent holiday to Bali, and an 'amazing' gig he played at Newmarket racecourse (she sat by the side of the stage). She doesn't find his touring commitments difficult. 'I'm not very needy. He goes off and does his thing and that's fine.'