On Thursday, Kate Moss, our right honorable queen of British fashion and the ultimate babe of a generation, will turn forty. How did this happen? How can it be that Kate is no longer the adolescent girl in pink pants draped against a wall of fairy lights for Corrine Day’s lens?

Despite our warped perception of time, Kate Moss is still the woman we all want to be. Forget the Gillian Taylforth jeers (which smack of insufferable cattiness), the woman looks inordinately good for her years. And better than most of us can dream of looking at fifty. That’s good genetics for you.

More jaw-dropping still, is that those photographs of her emerging from a car to begin the London carnival that was her thirtieth birthday are now ten years old.  It feels as thought it were last October. This also means I have been trying to get my hands on a celestial print kaftan dress like the one Kate wore for a decade (perhaps it’s time to admit defeat). 

"Despite our warped perception of time, Kate Moss is still the woman we all want to be"

Atypically for the woman who need only sling on a riding boot and a black polo to look completely sensational, Kate really put the effort in her for thirtieth celebrations - wholly bedazzling in her submission to the thrill of the birthday party that lay ahead of her. Her hair – at once cherubic, Pre-raphaelite and China doll – was a trick we hadn’t seen before. We all silently evaluated whether we’d have a shot in hell of pulling it off corkscrew curls and how many extra Bendy Rollers we’d need. 

Also endearingly apparent in this photograph is Kate’s rare eye condition – strabismus, in which the eyes are not totally aligned towards the same direction – one is slightly off. Throughout her immense catalogue of work, it’s this funny little quirk that I come back to time and time again; she’s looking at you, but also looking past you – creating a profound sort of photographic contradiction.

Kate’s make-up, lovingly applied by her make-up artist and confidante - Charlotte Tilbury - was the love child of glam rock and heavy metal. What started out as a Ziggy Stardust-a-like sheeny gold star painted over one eye, not long after became Joan Jett gigantic hoops of black soot, frittered off at the ends and imperfectly printed on, like black pebble dash. Her brows – characteristically fine, fair and untouched, her skin – still carrying the light bulb glow of youth and her skin – warm caramel with the flush of youth and latent weekends in St Bart’s. 

"Kate grabbed thirty with both slender wrists and didn’t let go"

Having just turned thirty myself, the vast chasm between Kate’s gregarious make-up look and my own increasingly, tediously cautious approach to my own cosmetic persona is painfully clear. Kate grabbed thirty with both slender wrists and didn’t let go (for at least 48 hours, supposedly) whereas, I’ve taken to becoming more staid in my approach - piling on more foundation to disguise the creeping fine lines and the purple bits under my eyes. Kate raged on, I have, cosmetically at least, shamefully retreated.

I really do hope Kate does it all over again for us at her fortieth. Give us Cleopatra! A space cadet from the future! A Tudor wench! Whomever Kate channels and wherever she goes, she’ll take us away with her. 

1. Lancôme Ombre Hypnôse Eyeshadow in 310 Strass Black, £17.50 at Selfridges
2. NARS Cinematic Eyeshadow in Bad Behaviour, £18
3. MAC Kohl Power Eye Pencil in Feline, £14
4. Givenchy Noir Couture Waterproof Mascara in Black Velvet, £22.50 at House of Fraser

Photography: Hugo Yanguela