Tim's new love

AS I follow Tim Jefferies - art dealer, man about town and celebrity boyfriend extraordinaire - across the newly renovated Hamiltons Gallery in Mayfair, I am embarrassed to find my attention wandering. Instead of admiring the exhibition - Jefferies's first show as sole owner of the gallery is a natty collection of paintings by Andy Warhol - my eyes are drawn irresistibly downwards, towards what must surely be one of the smallest male bottoms in London. Jefferies will turn 40 this year, yet here before me, encased in a pair of soft, faded Levi's, is the pert derriere of a teenage netball player.

How does he do it?

"I like to keep fit," he tells me later. "I did the marathon this year, and last. There's nothing wrong with keeping in shape.

There's a certain degree of vanity involved in spending any time in the gym, but it also helps me work because I feel good. I feel fine about turning 40.

Everyone says it's a landmark birthday, but nothing's stopped working yet.

Nothing's fallen off, I'm happy to say."

Well, that's a relief.

After all, Jefferies is a man who spends an awful lot of his time being snapped with beautiful women (his ex-girlfriends include Kylie Minogue, Elle Macpherson and Claudia Schiffer, to whom he was briefly engaged). It wouldn't do for him to be anything less than perfect.

Photographs, however, never seem to do him justice. Caught on camera, he often looks like a startled catalogue model when, in the flesh, he is really quite a dish.

Today, his gallery is still full of builders and designers, so Jefferies is wearing casual gear rather than one of his many (he is reputed to own 120) bespoke suits. On his feet are a pair of Gucci loafers and tucked into his jeans is a navy shirt, open just far enough to reveal a swathe of long, dark chest hair and, nestling within it, a heavy gold chain. What dangles at the end of this chain, I do not know: something expensive, I assume.

"No, I'm not keen on those cushions," he announces to his decorator, all the while running his fingers through his hair. "They're too shiny." Then, harnessing all his legendary charm - and believe me, he aims it at men and women alike - Jefferies turns to me and asks in confidential tones: "What do you think? Too shiny?"

After 17 years as co-owner of Hamiltons, Jefferies has finally bought out his partner, Andrew Cowan, and, having borrowed rather a lot of money, is in the process of expanding the gallery's horizons. From now on, he will be dealing in art as well as photography. Meanwhile, he has been busy chairing the committee that has organised this week's most fashionable, and sold-out, fundraising party, at the Serpentine Gallery - something of which he is touchingly proud.

"Julia Peyton-Jones, the director of the Serpentine, is so amazingly dynamic that when she asked me, I melted and said yes, even though I wasn't really sure what it would involve," he says. "I was honoured. It's one of the most wonderful galleries in London, but it needs to raise 1.5 million annually; we hope to raise at least 100,000 on Thursday night alone."

Supported by Ungaro, this year the party will take place in a pavilion designed by the architect, Daniel Libeskind - a structure that will also be up for sale on the big night (yours for 100,000). If that's too much, guests can bid for his-and-hers Piaggio scooters, as customised by Libeskind and Ungaro, or grab a limited-edition Ungaro scarf (75 a throw).

"We thought we'd take a less formal approach this year," says Jefferies, whose fellow committee members include Iman and David Bowie, Rupert Everett, Elle Macpherson, Stella McCartney and Sharleen Spiteri. "So it's a picnic.

There'll be some wonderful champagne, and tasty things will be served."

Jefferies has spent the past three months masterminding this social extravaganza and he has worked so hard on it that - oh no! - he has not yet found himself a date for the evening. "That's God's honest truth, I promise you! I need to get my skates on." Would he like me to solicit for suitable partners on his behalf? He laughs nervously. "Ha ha ha, yes, perhaps they could call the gallery."

As he is the first to admit, he has rather a lot on his mind just now.

"The work we've done at Hamiltons has been extraordinarily costly," he says.

"It's a risk, but it's also very exciting. Art should be sold like any other high-end luxury goods." He has turned the rear of the gallery into a glamorous officecum-den, complete with a copper dining table so he can treat special customers to lunch.

Though he is often described as the "Green Shields stamp heir", he received only 500,000 from his grandfather's estate when he turned 21, so his investment in Hamiltons really is a serious undertaking. Is he hoping it will make him filthy rich?

"I'd be a liar if I said I didn't want to be more successful than I am," he says. "But ultimately, it would also be a thrill to discover new artists."

At his Notting Hill flat is his own modest collection of art. If there were a fire and he could save only one thing, it would be a Polaroid of a prostitute by Italian architect Carlo Molino. "In the Fifties, he'd send his butler out to find ladies of the night so he could photograph them. It's an incredibly sexy picture. I love the story behind it."

And where does it hang, this treasured photograph? Yes, you guessed it, ladies - in his bedroom.

"I know, ha ha, how sad. But it's not next to my bed. It's just that I spend more time in my bedroom and kitchen than anywhere else."

Jefferies loathes doing interviews and when you read some of the stories written about him, it's easy to see why: the supposed family feuds, the brief early marriage to Koo Stark, the split with Claudia (some say it was the disparity between their incomes that drove them apart, but both parties have kept mum on the subject). "I dread having to talk about myself," he says.

"I'm not shy. But things don't come out the way you say them."

Then again, his friends - and his exgirlfriends - always seem to find plenty of lovely things to say about him: his charm, his generosity, his lack of pretension. "I set great store by my friendships," he says. "It's touching when they say nice things about me. It's not a difficult thing to stay friends with old girlfriends. If you have shared an intense relationship and spent a lot of time with someone, it's got to have meant something. So why not stay friends?"

He is used to reading "untruths" about himself. "That thing about a feud with my mother (she was alleged to have complained that he owed her money) was complete nonsense. She and I are very close. I read the papers, absolutely. I'm as interested as you in reading about X and Y and their divorce. When it happens to me, it's not always pleasant, but it's a mistake to grow a thick skin. You'll become thick-skinned about other things too, and that's not a good idea."

Perhaps, I suggest, he should find himself an art-loving soulmate, someone who might attract the paparazzi a little less. He bridles a little at this.

"You're assuming that the people I have been out with are not interested in art, and that is not the case."

Though he has been single since he and Schiffer parted last year, he is not on the lookout for love just now. "I want to marry and have children - I love children, they're so much fun, so fresh and uncomplicated - but that will happen when it happens. I've been in one relationship or another for much of my adult life.

That's been fantastic but this is a time for me. That's not to say I'm not open to meeting someone, but I don't wake up every morning thinking about it."

For the time being, at least, the love of his life is his gallery. "When I walked in here this morning and heard the click of my heels on the concrete floor, and saw the place filled with paintings, I felt such a charge. I was hoping to take a holiday but I'm not really sure I want to leave my gallery.

It's so beautiful." From the tone of his voice - possessive, proud, a little flirtatious - he could just as well be talking about a woman. And he won't have to buy this one even so much as a diamond ring.

Black and White: Andy Warhol, Hamiltons Gallery, 13 Carlos Place, W1, until 27 July .

Copyright 2001
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