THEY called her the Last Screen Goddess. For once they got it right.

Well, can you think of any modern celeb who was even fit to touch the hem of Elizabeth Taylor’s kaftan?

In Britain 2011 we fawn and fete and faff over characters like Kate Moss.

We are urged to regard the fag-puffing model, who was happy to stroll down the catwalk with her cellulite hanging out, as an icon.

If that’s true, it’s only because there isn’t any competition. Compare Moss to the luminous perfection of Dame Liz.

You wouldn’t see her dropping the kids off to school in her jeans, like Elle McPherson. Or mouthing four-letter words on stage and leaving nothing to the imagination like Madonna.

Liz came from an era when celebrities considered it a sin to allow the public to see them as nature intended.

It was their duty to be beautiful, and she was.

Yet, bless her, when it was appropriate she turned the rules on their head, passing off the baldness caused by a brain tumour operation as a marvellous excuse to buy some new scarves.

Even in that last picture; frail, sick, ravaged by 100 operations, Liz still sported that raven black hair, fuchsia lippy and managed to make her oxygen prongs look like a fantastic new fashion statement, as they battled for attention with the pirate’s hoard of gold she had round her neck.

But she wasn’t just a beautiful face. She was a brave, valiant campaigner for the victims of Aids, sticking up for her old friend Rock Hudson when he became a Hollywood pariah after being struck down by the disease.

She was braver still when you consider that for much of her life she had to live with the awful knowledge that she had allowed her greatest love, Richard Burton, to slip through her diamond-encrusted fingers.

“I loved him insanely,” said Liz after Burton’s death, and you knew it was true because you’d seen it; on TV, in the papers, when they were acting together on screen. It was like watching volcanoes explode.

Pity today’s youngsters are raised on the tawdry private life of silicon celebs like Katie Price, peddling her failed relationships for cash and behaving with all the dignity of a hen-night bride.

Another thing I loved about Liz was the way she rarely complained.

Of her own tempestuous life she once said: “Everything was handed to me – looks, fame wealth, honours, love.” Can you imagine Madonna saying that? Or Paris Hilton?

All celebs these days appear to think they only got where they are, because they’re worth it.

Liz didn’t even consider herself that talented, despite being in possession of two Oscars and a warm, sharp wit.

When told she would receive a damehood she quipped: “I’ve always been a broad, now I’m a Dame!”

Elizabeth Taylor was, as my kids would say, all that. And more, so much more.

Like the fictional movie star Norma Desmond, with Liz the pictures really did get smaller because, despite the weight problem, kaftans, bird’s nest hair and bizarre marriages she remained an icon.

And if we ever do see her like again, I will eat my diamonds.