'It's hard to get old and hard to say no'
By Rob Blackhurst
Published: July 19 2008 03:00 | Last updated: July 19 2008 03:00
K eith Richards once said, "If you are going to get wasted, then get wasted elegantly." At 61, his fellow Stones guitarist, Ronnie Wood, embodies this louche creed. As he arrives in the reception of Dublin's elegant Shelbourne Hotel for lunch, cutting a path through huddles of overly nourished politicians and businessmen, he's dressed in the same size of super-skinny jeans, 28 waist, that he's been wearing for the past 30 years, a pair of space boots that may once have belonged on an alligator's back and a tight black shirt undone to the chest: the fruits of a trip to Prada before his daughter Leah's wedding last month.
But, even from 50 paces, it's the luxuriant crow-black head of hair, flecked with only the tiniest hint of grey, that really marks him out as a Rolling Stone. As he greets me with a warm handshake and naughty, liquorice eyes, he says: "I don't dye it either." Alluding to his equally thin bandmates, he adds: "We're all the same build, as well. It's a good thing I didn't join Fleetwood Mac."