AN OPEN BOOK
Apr 05, 2019
3 minutes
by david smiedt
Back in the day, when actresses who were not altogether Anglo were invariably labelled ‘exotic’, no one was pigeonholed as often as Isabelle Yasmina Adjani. Thanks to an Algerian Kabyle father, a German mother and a French childhood, Adjani exuded a Gallic MILFy je ne sais quoi that the likes of Carla Bruni could emulate but never match.
Adjani’s hair was spun from raven silk and her eyes were of a blue both comforting and unknowable, deeper than single malt and just as intoxicating. The jawline was chiselled from a
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