Rose heeft een interview gehad met Vanity Fair met daarbij een nieuwe fotoshoot door Brigitte Lacombe, hierin praat ze over haar beschuldigingen tegen Havey Weinstein, Hollywood en haar nieuwe boek ‘Brave’.

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http//: 2018: Brigitte Lacombe (Vanity Fair)

Harvey Weinstein may have been Rose McGowan’s worst nightmare in 1997, when he allegedly raped her. Twenty years later, she would become his—spearheading the onslaught of charges against the producer. With the publication of her upcoming memoir, the actress discusses the web of cruelty and complicity that she is determined to expose.

I’ve had this giant monster strapped to me for 20 years,” says Rose McGowan, her voice gripped with defiance. “So many women have been strapped around him. He ate so many of our souls that he couldn’t tell which way was which. He’s always been gunning for me. But that’s O.K.—I’ve been gunning for him, too.”

The open bathrobes, the locked doors, the pinning against walls and bending over desks, the grabbing, groping, and forced masturbation-witnessing—the drumbeat of sexual-assault claims has become as familiar as President Trump’s tweets, giving rise to a disturbing question: Is our sense of shock becoming dulled? Amid the white noise, McGowan, who, with her accusations against movie producer Harvey Weinstein, helped start it all, has emerged as the movement’s white-hot voice of rage, determined to ensure that the #MeToo moment isn’t just a passing fad. She’s armed with a sizable Twitter following (literally called #RoseArmy), messianic certitude, and a sense of nothing to lose.

Her memoir, BRAVE, out this month, isn’t just about gunning for Weinstein. It’s calling out “all of them,” she says, the whole eco-system of Hollywood—the purveyors, the consumers, the media, the fans. Her argument is told via her personal story, which by any measure is extraordinary. Born in Italy into a cult called Children of God, which practiced free love and forced women into public flirting to attract followers, McGowan eventually fled with her family to America. Here, her parents having split up, she bounced between the homes of her psychologically cruel father and her mother, who continued to attach herself to abusive men. She did a stint in rehab, became a homeless runaway at age 13, and by 15 was living in Los Angeles, where she was taken in by a wealthy Beverly Hills kid who became her boyfriend, the first in a line of wolves in sheep’s clothing. As she puts it, another cult awaited her: Hollywood.
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