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How being kicked out of the London Hilton by a receptionist who treated us like dirt launched my incredible 60-year career: Cher tells the full unvarnished story of her life in a rock 'n' roll memoir like no other
Staring at us over the rim of his spectacles, the man behind the desk at the London Hilton gazed at my striped bell-bottoms.
Staring at us over the rim of his spectacles, the man behind the desk at the London Hilton gazed at my striped bell-bottoms and my husband Sonny's ruffled shirt and caveman-style fur vest as if he had an unpleasant smell under his nose. With some money in our pockets and both of us feeling more hopeful than we had in a while, Sonny decided that we should ramp up our profile and thought back to a conversation he'd had with Mick Jagger, who we'd met in LA when the Rolling Stones started their first American tour in 1964. Soon we could afford to buy a house on the estate where I'd lived with my Mom and stepfather Gilbert in the upmarket LA suburb of Encino, complete with a massive bathroom, the most gigantic closets and a swimming pool with a view over the San Fernando Valley.
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