[You must be registered and logged in to see this image.]Here's the version in English....... (it may be a little too small to read, so ill post what it says also at the beginning)
LIFE OF RILEYShe may be Elvis's granddaughter, but Riley Keough is forging a star career and style of her own.
In one of the rooms upstairs at the House of St. Barnabas in Soho, there hangs a portrait of Elvis. The King is photographed in classic mode: a close-up head shot, black forelock hanging down, his hooded brown eyes gazing from the frame. His image is so recognizable, its twentieth-century wallpaper (which is why Andy Warhol used Elvis's image in those screen prints, repeated into abstraction). Its impossible to imagine him as a human being- that is, until you meet his granddaughter, Riley Keough who is sitting calmly downstairs, tapping out messages on her Blackberry. That Presley gene is strong. Though her head is bowed over her phone, its easy to spy her grandmother Priscilla's bone structure, her grandfather's jawline, and her mother Lisa Marie's almond-shaped eyes. The leonine mane of blonde hair is all her own.
In other ways, Riley, now 20, is a surprise. For all that lumbering heritage, she appears, at least, utterly normal. She is giggly, softly spoken and shy. Her laugh- a little tinkling thing - is the punctuation mark in every sentence. And, yes, her life isnt normal as you or I would understand the word. Elvis as a grandfather, lucrative modeling contracts, a childhood spent on Tour with her musician mother, and a burgeoning film career (not to mention a brief moment when Michael Jackson was her stepfather)... Only the kohl-lined eyes and the tattoos on her hand and wrist- a Mayan calendar sign and the Led Zeppelin symbol- speak of the Rock 'n Roll running through her veins.
"Of course, there were abnormal aspects to my childhood, but to me, I had a very normal growing-up experience," Riley says seated at the edge of a leather armchair so deep, she threatens to slide back into its jaws every time she moves.
"I had to do chores, clean my room.The only time I noticed when my family might be different was when people would freak out. Or teachers were mean.Has she ever googled herself? She grins furtively.
"Yes. When I was little, I did it all the time.But I haven't in a long time," she adds. "I dont think anything really changes. I dont do much."Five foot six and slender, wrapped in a black knitted cardigan and black Alexander Wang leggings, her chunky Lanvin heels abandoned next to her handbag, she touches her face when she talks, and she appears, at times, a little dazed. In fact, she's jet-lagged, just off a flight from LA last night, though she's accustomed to the journey- Riley has been in Britain all summer, hanging out with her friend Princess Beatrice. (They met through their mothers.) She even hopped over to Ireland for a few weeks , where she embraced the novelty of rain and grey skies. There's something touchingly vulnerable about her.
"I always thought I'd be married by the time I was 18", she says wistfully at one point, crouched on a step outside in the rain, smoking.
"But even now I still feel like a 12-year-old." She loves music, reading- she's just finished Haruki Murakami's 'Kafka on the Shore' - and films.
"I play a bit of piano. For fun," she clarifies.At times, her family history must have felt like an albatross around her neck. As Priscilla once admitted, "a name can either hurt you or help you," and whenever Elvis is mentioned, Riley visibly shrinks in her chair. But she straightens and gives a precise .....
(unreadable sections of the magazine)
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