Mandy Moore, who was quietly married to rockstar Ryan Adams in Savannah, GA last month, is featured in the new issue of Details magazine (the one with Eric Bana on the cover) showing off just how much she’s grown up in the past few years. In this new issue, Mandy shows off her sultry, sexy side in what can only be described as her attempt to continue distancing herself from her good girl, squeaky clean, I’m missing you like Candy image. Here is one of Mandy’s new Details photos and the mag’s short interview with her:

Mandy Moore is wearing motorcycle boots. The detail certainly qualifies as strange. As she settles into a booth at a dimly lit Hollywood diner, the kind of greasy spoon where musicians nurse hangovers, it’s immediately apparent that Moore is not the preppy good girl you were expecting—nor the wholesome Neutrogena spokesperson, nor the milquetoast star of bland movie fare, nor the erstwhile nineties pop-tart who’s remained a professional cutie ever since. Her incongruous footwear is accompanied by a flowered vintage frock, a baggy cardigan, and black tights, and her short, layered hair is just-woke-up mussed. She orders a basket of fries and a chocolate shake, then says, “It’s okay to have a milk shake. . . . It is! Whatever! Who fucking cares?”—she’ll repeat that last phrase often. In Hollywood, where everyone is cleaning up his or her image, Mandy Moore seems to be set on giving hers a few rougher edges. To be sure, vestigial hints of her Girl Scout persona remain. Before eating her fries, Moore, who lives nearby in Los Feliz, daubs her hands with lavender-infused sanitizer. “I’m a germ-phobe when I meet a lot of people or shake a lot of hands. I always have hand sanitizer and alcohol swabs,” she says, “so I can sort of go back and forth between the two.” She explains that she added alcohol swabs to her handbag when her “best girlfriend,” a publicist for Coach (”you know, the handbag company”), informed her that “you can build up an immunity to the antibacterial stuff—and I was like, Oh, perfect.” In the process of disinfecting, Moore removes her conspicuous engagement ring, an enormous tear-shaped diamond—a gift, the world now knows, from Ryan Adams, whose indie cred can be measured in numerous reports of his substance abuse and onstage tantrums. It’s hard not to wonder, of course, what role Adams might have played in Moore’s alt-chick reinvention.
Awww … I love it. Mandy has started wearing her husband’s clothes. Except for the fact that she’s a wee bit taller than he is, I bet Mandy and Ryan are pretty much the same size. It’s a shame that the mag doesn’t offer any photos of Mandy wearing her new “alt-chick” clothing — but they do offer a few more photos of Mandy in her undies from the magazine’s photospread. After the jump, check them out …
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