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A photograph of Madonna posing naked on a bed whilst smoking a cigarette has sold for nearly £15,000 at Bonhams in New York.

The sum is three times the estimate placed on the image that was taken in 1990, by the same photographer who did the work for Madonna’s 1992 book Sex.

Judith Eurich from the saleroom said: “It is an absolutely stunning image and it is just a beautiful tone of grey. It is not just black and white it is grey and silvery. Madonna was posing for a number of photographers at the time this was taken in the 1990s when she was in her early 30s. She was going through a phase of having bleach blonde hair and heavy dark eye make-up that gave her a dramatic look – and of course she has a gorgeous body. She is a very healthy person and I’d imagine the cigarette is just a prop to make her look sexy and sultry.”

The price paid was $23,750 or £14,761.

Red Hot

Naked, save for a sheet to protect her ‘modesty’, the Speaker’s wife gazes provocatively into the camera for an extraordinary photo taken in the shadow of Parliament.

Tory rag the Daily Mail reproduces the pic for their shocked readers. As usual with Daily Mail articles, the comments are the best bit, ranging from plain mad, to barking, to dagenham (a couple of stops down the line from barking).

I was a binge-drinking ladette who downed two bottles of wine a day and had one-night stands

I hope the people who typed in these search terms found what they were looking for.

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The artist tells of her food fantasies and raiding the fridge as a child.

Sleeping under a dinner table is safe and snug. I picked it up as a child. As a young artist, at a big dinner, sometimes I’d get so tired I’d think, “If I just snooze for half an hour I’ll be fine”, and I’d slide underneath. More recently I don’t, because my absence would be too noticeable.

In the 60s my mother ran the Hotel International in Margate. I spent tons of time in the kitchen. I used to steal cream caramels when they came out of the fridge.

When little my favourite thing to eat was a pomegranate. I’d peel, take out every single seed individually, make sure all the pulp was off and then eat the hundreds of seeds one by one. I’d like to be a pomegranate.

My favourite cinematic food scene is of the paralysed man dreaming of eating oysters in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. The first time I had surplus income, as an artist, I bought oysters. I was 30 or 31 and I’d never had one. Suddenly I’d spend every spare penny on oysters. At one point I was on 70 to 100 a week.

If anyone really wants to seduce me, a picnic is the way to go. I fantasise about them and when I see old-fashioned hampers I get a wave of nostalgia for something I’ve never had. I own a couple myself but I’ve never used them. I just stroke them.

I find it really difficult eating cute things. I mean, I never eat rabbit. Even when Mark Hix makes me his [rabbit and crayfish] Stargazy Pies, I can’t have rabbit in it. Stuck on my fridge is a magnet which says “Foie Gras is Cruel”.

I’ve a really naked kitchen in my basement. It’s got just the basics. And there’s a tiny shelf of cookery books – but I’ve never referred to one in my life.

When falling in love I always imagine what I would cook for the person and how this culinary foreplay would work, but nine times out of 10 it ends in disaster. It’s because of wishing everything to be perfect, when all I really want is a good shag.

I was in Japan, on the outskirts of Tokyo, with Nic Serota [director of the Tate], and he said, “Tracey, tell me you’re not going to eat that.” And as I said “Yeah” I looked down and it was dark and it was alive. A squid in an egg omelette thing with its tentacles still moving. Pretty hardcore. But not too vile to eat.

My table manners are impeccable. I really dislike it when people eat with their mouths open. It’s not difficult – you chew, swallow, then you speak, OK?

When I was a student I did lots of Last Supper paintings. You won’t have seen them, because I destroyed them all. For my own last supper, I’ll probably order caviar and a dozen oysters, if it’s during summer. A cosy shepherd’s pie if it’s winter.

UK Blog Directory

Black Dogs Defined

This is the best of me; for the rest, I ate, and drank, and slept, loved and hated, like another: my life was as the vapour and is not; but this I saw and knew; this, if anything of mine, is worth your memory.

(John Ruskin, Sesame and Lilies)

Whatever people say I am, that’s what I’m not.

(Alan Sillitoe, Saturday Night and Sunday Morning)

This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.

(Emily Dickinson, This is my letter to the world)

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

(Edna St. Vincent Millay, Second Fig)

R.A.D. Stainforth

I was born before The Beatles’ first LP and brought up in the reeking slums of Jericho. I am in love with a woman called Hazel and in love with her daughter, also called Hazel, both of whom I met at Alcoholics Anonymous.

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