The Time I Interviewed Jane Birkin—And She Made Me Cry

The OG 'It' Girl's Life Was As Rich In Glamour As It Was In Tragedy

Photo by Karly Jones on Unsplash

One of my all-time highlights while working at Harper’s Bazaar was interviewing the legendary British-French actress, singer, and enduring fashion icon, Jane Birkin. It was 2018, and she was 71 at the time. She also happened to be hurtling through the French countryside on a train. The background noise was chaotic, her phone dropped out several times, and she had to keep calling me back.

After the interview—shared below—Jane’s agent invited me to watch her perform at New York’s famed Carnegie Hall. I went solo and sat spellbound as she shared stories and sang in French to resurrect her shared history with her former partner and long-time collaborator, Serge Gainsbourg. Ironically, I had just split from my own Serge, so I was raw, very raw.

The couple met and fell in love on the set of the 1968 film Slogan. Not exactly love at first sight; Birkin described Gainsbourg as “terribly arrogant and unkind.” They were together for 12 years, had a daughter, and collaborated musically until Gainsbourg’s death in 1991.

Birkin’s concert—deeply etched into my memory and one of those NYC wow moments —brought to life her 2017 album, Birkin/Gainsbourg: Le Symphonique, featuring 21 songs by Gainsbourg. True to her anti-fashion aesthetic, she wore a man-style white shirt, black suit, and Converse. Set against the orchestral arrangements of her latest musical partner, Japanese composer Nobuyuki Nakajima, there was a haunting vulnerability in her performance. Even if it was in French, I got the memo. Especially true when she revisited tracks from her 1983 album Baby Alone in Babylone, recorded just after her split from Gainsbourg. “He just said, ‘I owe you this,’” Birkin said of the soundtrack to their breakup. You could almost feel the pain and tears she must have cried. And you bet, here I was now crying through it.

The Original It Girl

For all her status as a style icon and the original “It Girl”, Birkin’s life was as rich with tragedy as it was with glamour. Born in London, she arrived in Paris in the late ‘60s, fleeing a bad marriage, and underwent a transformation from shy English girl into the ultimate archetype of “French Girl” chic—a title she will hold forever.

Birkin shot to fame as an actress, starring in over 70 films, including Blow-Up (1966) and La Piscine (1969). But such was the allure of her trailblazing, gritty, “just-rolled-out-of-bed” cool—especially against the backdrop of the Mary Quant mod bob squad—that she became a regular on the glossy pages of Vogue. Enter her twelve-year love affair and musical collaboration with Serge Gainsbourg, and Birkin was catapulted into the cultural zeitgeist forever. Not least because their duet “Je T’Aime... Moi Non Plus” was so scandalous that the Pope banned it, which instantly guaranteed its spot in pop-culture history.

And yes, she of the signature eye-skimming fringe and wicker baskets, which defined an era, is indeed the woman behind the famed Hermès Birkin bag. Considered the world’s most coveted status symbol, a new one will set you back a cool $13,500. Though fun fact: last year, Birkin’s original black leather Birkin bag went under the hammer at Sotheby’s Paris for an eye-watering $10.1 million.

In case you don’t know the story, the bag was born from a chance flight encounter in 1984, when Birkin was seated next to Jean-Louis Dumas, the CEO of Hermès. As she tried to stow her trademark wicker basket in the overhead compartment, it spilled, scattering her and baby Lou’s belongings across the cabin. Birkin began venting to Dumas (having no idea who he was) about how hard it was to find a practical leather bag for a young mother. Dumas famously replied, “But I am Hermès!” and Jane began sketching her dream bag right there on an airplane vomit bag.

Of her many accolades, Birkin was, at heart, a loving, devoted mother to three daughters who all became icons in their own right: photographer Kate Barry and singer-actresses Charlotte Gainsbourg and Lou Doillon. Tragically, Barry died in 2013, aged 46, after falling from the window of her fourth-floor apartment in Paris. The loss was cataclysmic for Birkin, who passed in 2023, and is now buried alongside her daughter in the Montparnasse Cemetery.

A Pin Up of Ageless Style

Following are some excerpts from our interview—the subject of which was “Ageless Style”—where Birkin fondly recalled her wild youth in Paris, finding her fashion “uniform” in her fifties, and her unwavering love of a YSL Le Smoking tuxedo jacket.

In her case, a man’s one.

“I think women only start to really look like themselves after they turn 30. That’s when a girl first dares to be her own age, show her bare face, and not just dress for boyfriends or husbands. I’ve kept all the old photos of myself from the ’60s, but I can’t relate to them now at all. All that dressing up! And the eye makeup! We looked like Barbie dolls.

On the other hand, being well-known because of those photos provided me with an extraordinary life. I could get away with murder. I could stroll right into the hottest nightclub in a long T-shirt and ballet flats, carrying my wicker basket, like I owned the place.

My mother, who was an actress, used to say, “Can’t you make an effort?” That was her thing—she used to change her clothes three times a day. But it wasn’t my thing. In fact, when I first went to Paris as a teenager, I could always spot other English girls because we put everything together so badly. Frenchwomen start with the same ingredients, but they make better use of them. They were always so beautifully turned out with their velvet headbands and clip-on pearls, a scarf casually tossed over their shoulder.

But after the counterculture swept through Europe, it became chic to wear whatever you liked, and it was our chance to laugh at the French girls. You’d see photos of Julie Christie coming down her front steps wearing a raincoat over her pajamas with gum boots, spectacles perched at the end of her nose. It was so unpretentious—and so very English. It’s impossible to be stylish without confidence, you see.

I could stroll right into the hottest nightclub in a long T-shirt and ballet flats, carrying my wicker basket, like I owned the place.”

I found my uniform about 20 years ago, and it hasn’t changed since. To me, there’s nothing more beautiful than a simple cashmere jersey paired with boyfriend jeans or trousers. I was never particularly into high heels, and always go back to my old Converse with the sheepskin linings that I put in myself. If someone tried to put me in a cocktail dress, I’d look quite ropy. I wear an old man’s smoking [tuxedo jacket] in the evenings, which, if you can get your hands on one, is definitely worth buying. You can wear it for years, even if it has holes.

Other than the jacket, my look isn’t tailored at all because I don’t have the figure for it. I also hate shopping. My daughter Kate [Barry, from her marriage to the composer John Barry] used to take me on shopping sprees. After she died, I stayed at home and didn’t see anyone for a couple of years. Then my artistic director called and suggested that I start performing again. Music helped me escape; I didn’t have to think so much. And suddenly I knew what to do at night. Performing—and my best friend, Gabrielle—is what got me through the past four years. And my bulldog, Dolly! She’s a wonderful face to wake up to. She tries to raid the chocolate, and the next thing you know we’re watching the late-night news together.

I don’t wear a lot of makeup anymore. When you’re older you know what to hide and what to show. When you’re 16 you can wear as much makeup as you like, but when you’re my age it can make you look like a witch. It’s far more important that you smell delicious. I made my own fragrance—L’Air de Rien— with London perfumer Miller Harris. It smells like tobacco mixed with musk, neroli, and vanilla. Another tip I’d like to give women? Take calcium supplements. I was recently playing hide—and-seek with my grandchildren and I fell on the stairs. Women need to take care of their bones. That, and don’t ever run up the stairs in socks!

It’s impossible to be stylish without confidence, you see.

Growing older really is the strangest thing. I recently said to my daughter Lou Doillon, “It’s gone.” And she’s like, “What’s gone, Mum?” And I said, “My beauty.” It’s like you wake up one day and suddenly the outside doesn’t correspond to the inside anymore. I’ve adjusted my thinking a bit since then. The essential thing, I now think, is a good sense of humor. Thankfully, my girls have that too.

Aging is also liberating. If you see someone you think is beautiful, you can just come out and say it and no one thinks you’re making a pass. The other day I told my taxi driver that he had a beautiful nose. It was long and hooked, but to me it was beautiful.

He nearly crashed the car.”