Her autobiography lifts the lid on a life somehow even more remarkable than one would expect.
After a tough upbringing (her family were Pentecostal on one side, perfectionist on the other, which made life difficult for an inveterate square peg like Grace) she escapes to New York and Paris, going on to meet pretty much anyone who was anyone.
Friendly rivalry with Jerry Hall, turning down Jack Nicholson (though later comparing hat collections with him), sharing a smoke with Keith Richards ... it’s all here, though so is a more surprising quiet side (she’s a big fan of tennis).
Yet the biggest star always remains Grace Jones herself; her account can be scattershot, but is also self-reflective in a way celebrity memoirs seldom manage. Spellbinding stuff.