The French have a word for it -- lollyceenne. Equal parts lollipop and lyceenne (schoolgirl), with a naughty hint of Lolita, it describes the nation's singular crop of pop princesses. Precociously sexual girls who inspire impure thoughts as they lisp flimsy lyrics through sullen permapouts, their career spans can usually be measured in weeks. So what makes Vanessa Paradis any different? When she began her career at fourteen with the novelty hit "Joe le Taxi," few seriously expected her to get much mileage from that familiar nubile hauteur. Even as she bloomed into the beauty you see before you, Paradis's every move seemed to confirm the lyceenne stereotype: a romance with Milquetoast pop star Florent Pagny, then a collaboration with France's recently deceased lush laureate, Serge Gainsbourg (who once duetted with his and Jane Birkin's actress-singer daughter Charlotte on a ditty entitled "Lemon Incest"). Paradis, however, was something else. Despite the nymphetic hallmarks, she had a certain sophistication, something in her demeanor that gave a portent of greater things to come. And somehow she hung on to a fame that proved distinctly double-edge -- it wasn't uncommon for her to be accosted in the street with jeers of "salope" (slut), and at the French music-biz festival MIDEM, her little voice was all but drowned by the boos of a skeptical audience. The announcement of Paradis's screen debut hardly generated a frenzy of anticipation. Jean-Claude Brisseau's Noce Blanche (White Wedding) was to tell of the doomed romance between a forty-nine-year-old schoolteacher and his seveteen-year-old pupil Mathilde, and sure enough the film was painfully predictable, connecting all the usual dots with its tragic trajectory. Well, they gave Vanessa a lemon and she made lemonade. Her vivid portrayal of the conflicted heroine -- a former drug addict and prostitute -- won her a Cesar as "Best Young Female Hope," sending critics scrambling for the Bardot and Adjani comparisons. Perhaps more accurately, Paradis's frail outsider presence recalls that of Winona Ryder. An established name at eighteen, Paradis could well become a national institution if she plays her cards right -- and her current hand looks very impressive. Several major producers are lined up for the U.S. launch of her singing career, and she is under consideration to be the perfume girl for Chanel, an organization not noted for its kindly disposition towards lollyceennes. We met at the Crillon hotel at Paris's Place de la Concorde, where Paradis immediately set about ordering a Coke and what she promised was "the best creme brulee in the world." Steven Daly: Did you have any worries about working with Serge Gainsbourg on your last album? The man had quite a reputation... Vanessa Paradis: I wasn't afraid. I just wanted to meet him and see how he was -- and he was wonderful, a very nice man. He explained that he had two personalities: the true Gainsbourg and GainsBarre [a pun on the name of the former French prime minister], the man who does his job in front of the camera, the provocateur. SD: How did your version of "Walk on the Wild Side" come about? VP: My friends are much older than I, so they taught me about Lou Reed. In the last year or two, I've discovered the whole epoch of the Stones, the Velvet Underground, the Doors, and the Clash -- this is the music I love. Recently I saw the video of Woodstock and I wanted so much to be there. SD: Which aspects of the music business don't you like? VP: I have met many of the people I admired when I was young and have realized that some of them are just like monsters -- so bigheaded. If the people who are around you tell you they love you, that you are the best, it is wrong. My friends and the people who work with me have to tell me when I'm great and when I'm bad. That's how you learn to be better, to develop. SD: Why did you choose Noce Blanche for your first film? VP: I knew the first time I read the script that it might not change people's minds, but it would make them ask questions about me. And I thought that if I had to prove myself as an actress, Mathilde would be perfect for me because she's so complex. I didn't really think about the plot, just about her. SD: Were you bothered by the nude scenes? VP: I was very naive about cinema, so I did them. It was a problem at first, but the role was so great I think I had to accept it. Now I know I don't have to do it again. I want to make another movie, but the scripts that people give me are so bad. They all want to make Noce Blanche II, III, and IV. SD: How did you feel about the reaction to the film? VP: I was so happy when I was doing interviews for Noce Blanche, because so many people changed their minds and said, "I always knew you were great." I think that's my best revenge; I didn't have to be aggressive, I just had to smile. Imagine that you are the person who has written the worst things about me and we're talking together after you've completely changed your mind. Now you love me very much and I'm like [bored]: "Yeah, yeah, O.K." It was so great! When I was doing that they felt so uncomfortable because they didn't know how to react in front of me. [laughs] SD: In the past you've also had problems with journalists invading your privacy. VP: Well, I told them that I do my job and they can ask me anything about that, but my private life is mine. I don't ask you if you have a wife and children. SD: Your boyfriend, Florent Pagny, even wrote a song about the press breaking -- if my translation serves me correctly -- his balls. VP: Yeah, because Mathilde was so different from the role of Vanessa Paradis as a singer. I had a very bad image before. When people saw me on television they'd say, "This is the little girl I want to be my daughter." But I don't want to be like that, and if people are to love me they must take me like I am. They can't really understand my personality, because although I speak about lots of things in life, my face looks like a little baby's. When you are between fifteen and eighteen you are between childhood and womanhood, and it's very ambiguous. SD: Have you ever felt like quitting? VP: Maybe once or twice, but I love what I'm doing so much. This is the life I've dreamed of. I can't imagine myself derriere un bureau. Even if my career stops dead, I will deal with that. It will be no problem. SD: Do you ever regret doing so much so young? VP: No. I think even if you do bad things you become stronger, you understand lots of things earlier. SD: Why the rush? VP: Because I know this job can stop tomorrow. Lots of people say, "You've worked with so many great people and you are just eighteen -- what will you do in the future?" I say, "I don't know, we'll see." I hate to talk about the future; I love to speak about the present, and the past, too. But I don't like to know what I'll be doing tomorrow. I love suprises. How's the creme brulee? SD: Great. Are you going to finish yours?