At 69, Richard Gere is embarking on fatherhood again. Chrissy Iley talks to the still-suave Hollywood star about babies, finding peace and nesting.
On a sopping wet day in New York, Richard Gere walks into a simple but chic Italian eatery in Chelsea. Dressed for the rain with his collar up and cap on, he’s looking as inconspicuous as a still-sexy-at-69 Hollywood A-lister can manage. I am soaking and fractious and don’t want him to know that I was the hysterical, caffeine-deprived woman waiting at the bar. They show me to my table and I pretend that I wasn’t that woman.
He sits down and looks at me quizzically. He’s got a great quizzical stare that looks right through you. He’s wearing his trademark rimless glasses. His platinum hair is flattened by the rain and cap, but it’s still full. He’s still the man from the poster of An Officer and a Gentleman, except he’s not wearing the tight, white trousers. He’s still the man from Pretty Woman, but without the expensive-looking suit. He’s more pared down, relaxed, grey pants. Simple, as he would say, but not ordinary.
Of course, he knew it was me. Why was I so upset? Now I was embarrassed. He told me not to be as he ordered a jasmine tea.
“The American Indians bred horses which were essentially quarter horses. They had great stamina, great speed, great agility, but their greatest attribute is that they calm down quickly. They bred this horse so that you could ride him hard, work him hard, but then calm him down because thoroughbreds stay hyper all the time. Maybe you’re a little too thoroughbred?”
Oh my God. Smooth or what?
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