Jorgie Porter

RAISING HELL

JORGIE PORTER

With

Have you got what it takes to spend a day with TV’s hottest troublemaker?

Words: Nick Pope Photography: Florence Keys Styling: Kylie Griffiths Hair and make-up: Susana Mota 060

OCTOBER 2015

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T-shirt, olive and frank. black knickers, freya. crop-top, american apparel. grey knickers, love stories. T-shirt, bundy & webster. knickers, princessE tam tam

“if you tell me not to do something, i’ll want to do it,”

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says Jorgie Porter. “That’s just the way I am. But I’m pretty good at getting out of trouble.”

The thing is, one look into her big, blue, anime eyes and you just know that getting out of trouble has never really been a problem for Britain’s prettiest pint-sized soap star. “I’m just sneaky about it,” she says. “That’s my secret.”

The second thing you’ll realise about Jorgie is that she’s hyper. Really hyper.

Like a Duracell bunny powered entirely

by Um Bongo, the Manchester actress is a whirlwind of loud, giggling energy.

You’ll also notice that she’s cheekier than Kim Kardashian taking a belfie in Nando’s – although we doubt anyone will have a problem with that…

Well, almost anyone: “At school, my mum caught me singing ‘Ip. Dip. Dog. Shit. You. Are. Not. It.’ She let out this huge, shocked gasp.

There was no escaping that one.”

But then, the 27-year-old has probably inspired a fair few gasps in her time – be it through her countless WTF-worthy storylines in Hollyoaks, or while donning one of her many fist-bitingly sexy outfits on Dancing On Ice. So when it comes to a Jorgie Porter photoshoot, it’s best to expect the unexpected.

But now Jorgie has just given us a terrifying piece of news that could throw the entire shoot into chaos. “I’ve just found out about espressos and, oh my God, they’re phenomenal.”

Deep breaths, everybody. Batten down the hatches and strap yourself in. This inteview’s going to be one hell of a ride.

You’re hyper, ordinarily – you must be a bloody nightmare on caffeine…

Oh, I’m ridiculous. I usually have to give myself a time-out in the corner of the room.

How many can you sink before you go batshit-bonkers?

Four shots, I reckon. And don’t even get me started on caramel lattes – they make me 063

delirious. My mouth goes weird and I end up talking to myself.

What have you been putting in your coffee, exactly?

I hand them out at the start and end of all my parties so people have to stay awake all night and think about the incredible time they had.

So how do you normally behave on a night out, then?

To be honest, I’m a back-door escaper.

A what?

A back-door escaper. On a night out, I’ll say, “I’m just going to the toilet,” and then I’ll secretly head home to watch Netflix. It’s my favourite thing in the world. I’m getting excited just thinking about it.

Do people worry that you’ve been locked in the toilet or something?

They’ll be ringing me up screaming, “Where are you? We were supposed to get a cab together, I’m stranded!” and I’ll say, “Sorry about that, but I’m focusing on my dinner right now.”

So you prefer Netflix to an all-nighter?

I’m an absolute Netflix junkie. At the moment I’m watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Grace And Frankie, Sons Of Anarchy and Better Call Saul. I love Game Of Thrones, too.

I’m a proper TV multi-tasker.

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OCTOBER 2015

Vest, samsoe & Samsoe. Jacket, maison scotch. shorts, american apparel. roller skates, slick willies

“My mouth goes weird and I end up talking to myself”

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What else makes up the perfect day?

I’d wake up, have lunch with my friends and then enjoy my customary 4pm nap. Then I’ll spend the night trying to sneak my dog into pubs. If they refuse to let her in, I say, “But this dog’s a film star!”

Wait, what?

Well, she was nearly in a movie, but I couldn’t get time off from work. She’s got an agent.

Her name’s Lady and she’s destined to play a child-saving hero dog.

What kind of terrible pub doesn’t let in celebrity dogs?

I know. I should march up to the landlord and say, “Don’t you know who this is? She should be in there signing autographs, you fool!”

Talking about kicking-off, we see you’ve been tweeting loads about UFC recently.

I love UFC. I don’t like street fighting, but I’m into 066

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a good UFC arse-kicking. Why release all of your anger in some punch-up when you can earn loads of money doing it on telly?

If you got pushed into the ring, what would your signature move be?

I’d just run away as fast as possible – it’d be called the ‘Jorgie Porter Leg-It’.

The back-door escaper’s at it again…

Alternatively, I’d be the fighter who just wees her pants in fear and the other fighters end up slipping on it.

Moving on swiftly… You were streaking at the photoshoot.

It was so good. Especially when I was streaking by the window and people started walking past.

Where’s the weirdest place you’ve found yourself naked?

I’m always starkers around my friends’ houses.

And we went to a naturist sauna in Austria once.

bra, princesse tam tam. Jacket, maison scotch. knickers, love stories

“I’m always starkers around my friends’ houses ”

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Top, in the style. knickers, love stories. Top, beyond retro. knickers, we are handsome

“it’s way more exciting to walk everywhere with nothing on”

Go on...

We were going skiing and found out that the hotels over there have naked saunas.

Weren’t you just surrounded by old, horrible Austrian ballsacks?

They’re everywhere! But it’s just so invigorating to be naked. You get given a towel, but it’s way more exciting to take a risk and walk everywhere with nothing on.

So should everyone be naked all of the time?

The world would be a much better place. I used to work at a swimming baths and old people have way more body confidence – they break all of the naked rules.

We caught you guzzling whipped cream straight out of the canister. Are you a ‘milk-out-of-the-carton’ kind of girl?

Oh yeah, I do what I want. I love just opening

my fridge, eating half a yogurt and then putting it back. I don’t even care.

What are the staples of Jorgie Porter’s fridge, then?

Loads of eggs, all of which have probably gone off. Also – weird coconuts.

Huh? Cone-shaped coconuts. I always buy them because they look exciting, but I never have the instrument to smash them open with. The use-by date comes and I’m just like, “Aw, I’ve got to throw them away now.” Then I buy another.

You’re just weird…

Think of the bras I could make. Then there’s the lettuce that always goes off, because obviously I don’t want to eat it. And finally there’s my special cheese draw.

Cheese: 1, salad: 0…

It’s packed full of brie, Babybell, Wensleydale…

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Jorgie’s Guide to Getting Out of Trouble You spilled red wine on your best mate’s pristine white carpet.

This has happened to me. Throw loads of salt on the floor and pretend it’s carpet shampoo.

Scrub and hope.

You kicked a football through your neighbour’s glass window.

Blame any child that’s in the near vicinity. Just start shouting at them.

What’s the ultimate Jorgie Porter cheese of choice?

Camembert. But then I wouldn’t say no to a strong Cheddar.

We’ve also got a snap of you sinking an afternoon beer – when’s the earliest you can start drinking?

I save my daytime drinking for holiday. Abroad there are no rules. You don’t care about money and drink way more than you should. Lunch time is the perfect beach cocktail hour.

And what do you drink?

A mojito. It’s my favourite. If I was on death row, I’d ask for beans on toast with cheese, with a mojito on the side. I’ve thought about this a lot.

Gourmet beans, with big, thick white bread and real butter. Maybe a bit of bacon, too.

Tasty. What’s the most delicious thing 070

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you’ve eaten recently?

A donut burger. I had it at a place called Red’s True Barbecue and it’s ridiculous.

Explain. Now. So there are two donuts and they’ve packed bacon, cheese and a burger in the middle.

I’m dribbling just thinking about it.

That sounds like the greatest, most fucked-up thing in the world.

I think it’s more than 2,000 calories and it puts you into a food coma. You can’t walk; you have to crawl out of the restaurant on your belly.

Nothing that a couple of espressos couldn’t sort out…

That’d send me over the edge. I’d probably be running up the walls, throwing donut burgers at everyone in the restaurant. On second thoughts, I should probably stay away from the coffee.

Underwear set, princesse tam tam. T-shirt, olive and frank. knickers, freya. Jacket, rokit vintage

You accidentally favourited a picture of your ex on Twitter.

Just stand strong: “Yeah, so what, I did it.” It’ll psyche them out.

The police have been called round to your noisy house party.

Convince them to join in and then tell everyone that they’re strippers.

You’ve been busted smuggling booze into a festival.

Make your friends do shots before you go in instead. Get so ruined that you fall asleep in the queue.

They’ve found your underground lair and moondestroying giant laser beam.

Just pretend that it’s a massive 80ft hair-removal laser.

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