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There is an enduring fascination with illicit sex in high places and what is referred to as ‘the oldest profession’. Perhaps it’s the access to some of the world’s richest, most powerful men, the secrets, the scandal, and, of course, the sexual prowess of these girls, which is riveting to us all (remember Wallis Simpson’s ‘Shanghai Squeeze’ and how it was said to have captured the heart of Edward VIII?). Hollywood sirens like Marilyn Monroe (who made pornographic films in her early career) and Joan Crawford (who worked in a strip club) reportedly sold sex too. Others have gained historical notoriety from it: Mary Boleyn, a prostitute to Henry VIII before her sister Anne married him; Nell Gwyn, the mistress of Charles II; Harriette Wilson, the Regency courtesan who threatened to reveal her secrets and, supposedly, prompted the line ‘publish and be damned’ from the 1st Duke of Wellington, a client; and Cora Pearl, the English fille de joie who bewitched 1860s Paris. There was a media scramble to unmask the blogging call girl Belle de Jour (eventually revealed as Dr Brooke Magnanti), who was trading sex while studying for a PhD. She took her alluring nom de plume from the French novel of 1928, made into a film with Catherine Deneuve in 1967.
On condition of anonymity (‘I don’t want my legs broken’), Lauren has agreed to talk about her life as a high-class prostitute. She earned ?10,000 a night – at her peak ?20,000, and ?40,000 for a weekend. (‘No one earns that money now,’ she says. ‘Prices have gone down in the last five years. Changing times.’)
She travelled aboard private jets and yachts to Monaco, St Tropez, St Barth’s, Barbados and Malibu. She’s been inside the world’s smartest hotel rooms – during the Cannes Film Festival, the Miami Art Basel, the Met Ball, the Monaco Grand Prix. ‘Our clients were on the Forbes list. Men who owned countries, private islands, people who were huge in property, big-scale retail, international industry and oil. I’ve had dinner with royalty and major politicians. If you knew who! These clients were – are – powerful, powerful men.’
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Aristocrats? ‘No. They don’t pay. It’s new money. Having a hooker for them is nothing – like having butter on their bread. Sometimes their wives knew and turned a blind eye, sometimes they didn’t [know].’
We are drinking tea in Lauren’s house in Chelsea – two buildings knocked together on one of London’s loveliest streets. Inside it’s comfortable and modern, the colours muted except for explosions of art on the walls. She lives with her husband, who was not a client – ‘I got lucky’ – and who disapproves of her talking about her past. (She jumpily calls ‘who’s that?’ every time she hears a noise outside. It’s the housekeeper.)
She says her look – extraordinary pale hair, gas-blue eyes, peachy skin – ‘was the look everyone wanted. They don’t want skinny models, they want a little bit of. ‘ She plumps her neat cleavage. ‘But nothing fake. No fake boobs, nails or eyelashes.’ Like others girls in her earnings bracket, Lauren is clever. She speaks several languages (Swedish, French, English). She used to read the Financial Times and The Economist to stay abreast of world events, as well as fashion magazines ‘for style’. ‘These clients want someone who can hold a conversation at a cocktail party or dinner – as well as everything else. You can’t be like [she puts on a thick Slavic accent], "Er, my name is Svetlana. My father work in factory." Although some of the girls do come from that background.’
Lauren says there are two ‘major’ madams in London right now, both women, and that they supply girls all over Europe and to the States. One is English, ‘but her background is not English. Big woman. Looks like a frog.’ Lauren’s was French, ‘in her 50s, very elegant’, lives in north-west London and has dominated the industry for 20 years. She has ‘the best, best girls. She has the top 10 girls right now. They are seriously beautiful. They look like models.’
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The madams are almost as intriguing as their girls. Madame Claude, whose clientele in the Sixties included politicians, the mafia and senior police, was immortalised in books and films. Heidi Fleiss, the famous Hollywood madam whose father was the respected paediatrician Dr Paul Fleiss, kept a black book of stars and moguls in the movie world. She was jailed for tax evasion in 1994 and convicted for ‘pandering’ in 1997.
A madam can be a monsieur – in 2012, Elie Nahas, 49, a Lebanese businessman and Beirut model-agency owner, was given an eight-year prison sentence in absentia by a French court for supplying more than 50 putes de luxe ‘of various nationalities’ from his room in the Carlton Hotel on the Croisette. He was the ‘right-hand man’ of Moatessem Gaddafi, the playboy son of the ousted Libyan dictator, but says he was ‘singled out’. Speaking to The Hollywood Reporter, he claimed girls earned ‘up to $40,000 a night’. And that the ‘police know what goes on. They turn a blind eye.’ Lauren gives a heard-it-all-before look. ‘There are boatloads of them in Cannes and St Tropez,’ she says. ‘The summer in the South of France is big. One particular boat had a weekly turnover of fresh girls. A lot come from London.’ How does her madam recruit? ‘She has scouts, who work like model scouts, trawling hot clubs and bars and model parties. And girls find her. Some come through contacts. Mostly they are models, strippers or dancers. Or students. They are smart and pretty, pretty. There are young actresses too. Sometimes recognisable faces.’
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