She certainly doesn't see herself as a tart. But if she's not, how come Vanessa's got a second-rate Picasso hanging on her wall and a real ruby for a navel stud? How come she's servicing star tennis players in a posh London hotel, as well as acting as muse to the artistic avant garde? Whoring down the seedier suburbs, pimping her own family? And her mother's a vicar, and she's got a college degree. Outrageous! Could it be her alter ego, Joan Bennett, that nice, good girl, who keeps trying to surface? Or is it just that Vanessa likes sex, shopping and SM too much, and Alistair Crowley's got into her sould. It can happen.
And can you really hypnotise a girl into doing what you want, not what she wants?