First pre-summer long weekend in America – perfect recipe for an OD. Sunday night, Mischa Barton at a party after having a few drinks had to be rushed to hospital after experiencing an “adverse reaction to medication”.

How about an adverse reaction to too much coke? Or meth? Or ecstasy? Or any combination of narcotics favoured by the young, rich, and useless?

The official excuse is that she was suffering from bronchitis in Cannes and has been taking antibiotics to build up her body’s weak constitution. But you ask anyone who saw her here in Cannes last week – there was absolutely NO sign of her looking sick…especially not every other night on the red carpet and on Cavalli’s yacht, where she spent her afternoons smoking and “reading” and laying in the sun.

But here’s the thing: Mischa and Lindsay are the rule and NOT the exception. And as much as they will call it a tabloid exaggeration, you go to Teddys or Hyde or Winstons any night of the week and you could scrape together five lines alone off the toilet paper dispensers in the bathrooms. Only a matter of time, you know? Before one of them dies. And you can now add Rumer Willis to that list too, though with Mischa, I confess to naively feeling a sense of disappointment. Because she’s not on that scene every night. And still, behind closed doors away from the pappies, I suppose what goes up her nose is still the same.

Sigh.

Here’s a glassy-eyed Mischa in a pair of LV denim cutoffs a day before the drama. I like them…is that wrong? Is my Chinese ass suddenly Eurotrash?

Also attached – Mischa’s spread in this month’s Elle France, inspired by Hollywood legend and styled by John Galliano who apparently adores her, was supposedly “seduced” by her beauty and her style, so much so that he handpicked her on the occasion of the Cannes 60th anniversary to be his muse.

My favourite is Mischa as Marilyn…unbelievably pretty girl, don’t you think?

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