PARIS -- She's late, which is no big deal here. But when she blows into the stuffy George V hotel, you forget that she's had everyone sitting around waiting for three-quarters of an hour. Everyone stares in amazement.

Her handlers make a fuss over her new purple suede jacket.

"Just picked it up in a London flea market for 40 bucks," she coos, the "s" hissing through two oversized front teeth set about two millimeters apart. "The teeth of happiness" they call it here. You can't decide if you want to put braces on her or take her to bed.

This is the seductiveness of Vanessa Paradis, a 20-year-old French pop singer-actress with the face of a cherub and a body like Bardot's. In the five years since her career began with a summer hit song, "Joe le Taxi," she's costarred in a movie playing a former teenage prostitute who sleeps with her teacher, replaced former top Chanel model Ines de la Fressange as the image for Coco perfume and recorded three big-selling albums.

The first album introduced the cutesy "Joe le Taxi," a No. 1 hit about a cab driver who listens to bad rumba as he cruises for fares. The second, "Variations sur le meme t'aime" (Variations on the same theme/I love you), was a collaboration with French bad boy Serge Gainsbourg, who died last year of a heart attack after years of excessive living. (Gainsbourg's the fellow who wrote and recorded a little ditty called "Lemon Incest" with his daughter.)

Her latest -- and American debut -- is an eponymous disc (PolyGram) of psychedelic pop written and produced by hippie-wannabe Lenny Kravitz. In her first single, a breathy cover of Lou Reed's "I'm Waiting for the Man," she coyly twists Reed's lyrics about scoring heroin into a pay-as-you-go romp in the hay. In her second single, "Be My Baby," released in the United States this week, she promises her lover that if he stops cheating, "I'll be your baby."

Of course, Paradis (yes, that's her real name) is not the first sweet French thing to toy with unconscious -- or conscious -- pedophiliac fantasies.

"It's in the French tradition, to use the ambiguous beauty of young girls as a preface to literature and pictures," says celebrated ad-maker Jean-Paul Goude, who directed Paradis in Chanel's new Coco perfume advertising campaign. "It's a French specialty."

You could say it began with Brigitte Bardot -- the French response to Marilyn Monroe. She was followed by such fresh young beauties as Catherine Deneuve, Jeanne Moreau, Mireille Darc and Isabelle Adjani. Some are singers who act; others actresses who sing.

And now there's Paradis.

A middle-age man approaches, holds out a piece of paper and a pen, and asks for an autograph.

Paradis turns swiftly and says sharply: "I'm doing an interview right now."

He slinks off, wincing.

"People always think they are the only ones," she huffs. "That I owe them something. That I belong to them. It's more in France than anywhere else, because I'm French and people think I'm their thing."

She stares off, disgusted.

Her hair is straight and brown and parted down the middle. Her wardrobe looks like it came from the Salvation Army: synthetic flower-power blouse, black stretchy cardigan with a zipper, bell-bottoms (!) in polyester or nylon or something. Tons of artsy silver rings, which she plays with constantly as she talks.

"People don't respect me," she huffs again. "It's true, I can spend time with them and talk with them and give an autograph, but, you know, I'm not here for them."

"She's not the warmest person in the world," says Goude. "She's not the most bubbly. In French, we say grave. She's very serious -- about her music, and everything. She's a hard worker. Not pretentious. ... And she's very ambitious. But not overly ambitious. She's not a climber."

When Paradis was 12, she went with her uncle to his friend Franck Langolff's music studio. Two years later, she says, Langolff wrote a song for her -- "Joe le Taxi." It sold 1.2 million copies in France, went to No. 2 in the United Kingdom, was in the Top 10 all over Europe. Most people thought she was a summer folly, that she'd fade like a tan by September.

But she recorded an album, "M&J," and went on the road: Italy, England, Canada. She did TV appearances. Her picture was in magazines.

Then she made a movie, "Noce Blanche." It's generally regarded as a pretty lousy movie, with a predictable story and bad acting. Except for Paradis. She was considered quite good. Quite nude, but also quite good. Her portrayal of Mathilde, the junkie-hooker-turned-teacher's-mistress, won her a Cesar -- the French equivalent of an Oscar -- for Best Young Female Hope. Not bad for someone who's never had acting lessons, and isn't particularly interested in starting anytime soon.

Chanel's hiring of Paradis confirmed her status as a star. In the 30-second spot, Paradis, dressed in black plumes and perched on a trapeze in a golden birdcage, whistles and swings to and fro like a parakeet as a big fluffy cat hungrily looks on.

"Her resemblance to Tweety Bird is amazing," says Goude, creator of the popular "Egoiste" commercial for Chanel. He wanted to capture that whimsical caricature with his 5-foot-3" star, "instead of being boringly glamorous." He adds, "She's not about to become a Chanel girl. She's an entertainer, trying to make a dent in American show business."

That's why she hooked up with Kravitz.

The album is a collection of organ heavy, funky-bass-laden, "baby, baby, babe"-filled tunes. It's everything this retrochick wanted.

"There's a love in it and a lot passion in it," she says of her work with Kravitz. "And everything in passion is extreme and intense. It was a really deep experience. ... When I finished, I came back to Paris and it took a month to get over it."

For the last few months -- since her return from the States -- all she's done is play pop star. TV shows. Magazine covers. Personal appearances. Go here. Go there. Talk.

"I'm afraid I don't have fun anymore," she sighs, her velvet green eyes searching for the reason why. "I'd like to be a child again, playing around and fooling around."

Not two minutes later she says wistfully, "I wish I could get married. Get married and have children. Soon."

Is she a girl or is she a woman?

Does she even know?