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The Sydney Morning Herald

TODAY'S PEOPLE

Author: Edited By ROBYN HARVEY
Date: 04/01/1989
Words: 1146
          Publication: Sydney Morning Herald
Section: News and Features
Page: 24
IDIOT BOX BLUES

Great television excuses, or why I'm not as popular as Kylie: In an attempt to squeeze as much as possible out of the recent British success of that dreadful soap opera, Neighbours, Elaine Smith, who plays ex-stripper Daphne, has told Britons why she was killed off - six months before her death occurs in the series there.

Talk about spoiling the fun, suspense and drama of the show |

Elaine, who played the emotion-torn character for two-and-a-half years, said: "I wanted Daphne to die.

"I didn't want to be stuck in a television series for the rest of my life. I'd taken Daphne as far as she could go. She's run the gamut of every life experience she could possibly have. I'd had enough."

Elaine, 26, said the work put a strain on her romance with boyfriend Peter O'Brien, who played sexy stud Shane in the same show. "Our private lives went right out of the window," she said.

She and Peter are appearing in a pantomime in Stockport, in northwest England.

THE BORING AND THE BEAUTIFUL

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but twigs will never hurt me: The British model of the 60s who renamed herself after a small stick ... yes, you guessed it, Twiggy, has said she now has to watch her weight.

And in another revealing moment, she also admitted she's sick of her silly name.

Twiggy, now at the tender age of 39, married Leigh Lawson, her boyfriend of three years, in September, and has a ten-year-old daughter by a previous marriage.

When asked about the figure that made her fortune (and almost made other young model hopefuls turn anorexic), Twiggy said: "Back in the 60s, I desperately wanted to put weight on. But these days I have to watch it."

Her bid to become accepted as a serious entertainer was dogged by the name she chose in her early days and which has clung to her ever since, she said.

"My silly, stupid name ... it's just not the right sort of name for a grown-up woman, is it?," she asked. Well, Leslie Hornby, her real name, isn't much of an alternative, either.

"People hear the name Twiggy and still think of a fluffy, doe-eyed stick of a mannequin with nothing between her ears. I've fought long and hard to overcome that and I suppose I'll have to go on fighting until I retire," she said.

She continues in this reflective tone: "Who would give a starring role to Leslie Hornby? Twiggy is a hell of a bind, but it has its advantages too. How can I change it now?"

Twiggy is about to appear in a six-part television play as Charlie Chaplin's mother.

TALES OF THE UNEXPECTED

A stitch in time etc: Tragedy almost struck rotund Rex Jackson while he was making coffee tables yesterday at his current residence, Berrima Jail.

It seems the former Minister for Corrective Services copped a piece of sharp timber while chiselling away. Anxious prison guards rushed him to the local hospital where a stitch was put in his lip.

A departmental spokesman assured Today's People that Rex was returned safely to his prison bed after treatment.

SPIN US ANOTHER ONE

The case of the singing spies etc: The Scot with the pseudo-sexy voice, Rod Stewart, is suing the CIA for using his songs to send coded messages to agents behind the Iron Curtain.

Rod is apparently seeing red and spitting chips over the use of three songs from his album, Foolish Behaviour, to contact agents via the Voice of America radio station, reports Juke magazine. Arnie Stiefel, Rod's manager, said: "We believe we have a strong case to sue the CIA for violating Rod's human rights."

The CIA operation was codenamed "Hot Legs" after the 1977 hit. It involved the playing of Rod's songs as a signal for agents, mostly in Poland, to swing into action.

We can only guess for what specific purposes songs such as Tonight's the Night and Do you Think I'm Sexy? were used.

TRUE CONFESSIONS

The disturbing and distressing world of fantasies: Those of you out there who are not regular readers of the Women's Weekly would not have had the pleasure of learning about the fantasies of certain celebrities in this town. We share a selection with you.

Jeannie Little says she'd love to be black, because it's so exotic -specifically, an American-born, naturalised French dancer and singer of the 1930s named Josephine Baker.

"The French thought her exciting and outrageous and always gave her standing ovations," Jeannie said. So that's why Jeannie liked her.

The fantasy of Good Morning Australia host Kerri-Anne Kennerley is to be Cleopatra, after seeing Liz Taylor act the part when Kerri-Anne was 10.

Fashion designer Jenny Kee has a profound one - to be the Tree of Life. "As a tree, I'm part of nature, reaching to the sky from the roots of the earth. Knowing my vapours will create pure air - the most necessary source of life -makes me feel extremely important. However, to cut me down is to destroy life," she says.

Lisa Forrest, reporter on The Midday Show, admits she's quite flighty, doesn't settle down to anything well and says she'd like to be a gypsy.

And Lady Renouf, if you haven't already heard, wants to be a mermaid. Enough.

LIFESTYLES OF THE RICH AND FATUOUS

More of the amazing Grace: The tales of Grace Jones and her little visit to Sydney continue, long after her two-hour late arrival on New Year's Eve (yes, we're rubbing it in) and her departure on Sunday.

While she was cruising around the harbour with a bunch of young Sydney funsters on Renee Rivkin's yacht, about 20 well-built young men, wearing Speedos and pink zinc, were seen jogging along the beach at Rose Bay.

Well, when Grace spotted these bronzed Aussies, she became most excited, and began screaming at them in a hysterical fashion. The men responded by doing what the average lifesaver does with his Speedos - they revealed the white parts.

This obviously gratified Grace, who yelled: "I haven't seen big white bums like that since Dolph," referring, of course, to her former boyfriend, Dolph Lundgren.

Another one. When Grace was stepping out of the limousine on her arrival at the hotel, a bottle of champagne (the expensive kind, no doubt) was accidentally dropped on the concrete, breaking very close to her feet.

Responding immediately, she bent down, dipped her finger in the liquid, now running all over the footpath, and dabbed it on an associate's neck, as if she were applying perfume.

 
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