Julianne Moore and I huddled together on a bench. My bra wasn’t that close to me. And this lady’s face hasn’t a mark, line, hair, pit, pigment, imperfection or crease. So distressing to me I could barely concentrate on what she was saying.

Her new film’s “What Maisie Knew.” Maisie’s a 6-year-old struggling in her parents’ bitter custody battle. Shuffled from more and more households, with care givers more and more calloused, and there’s more and more assorted lovers.

“I play, if you can believe it, a rock star. I didn’t know anything about that world, so I studied Courtney Love. How she worked, acted, moved. Listen, I didn’t know how to immerse myself in that culture.

“A great music supervisor taught me the moves. She had me study videos of performers. She encouraged me to relax, not worry about the sound or feeling.

“I was terribly nervous about playing this character. I knew nothing. It was a heavy challenge. Something I’d never done before. I learned three chords on a guitar and practiced endlessly with help of the Internet. My kid’s 15. He wasn’t any great help. Now that the shoot’s over, I’ve already forgotten it all. Everything I learned I forgot. I basically only learned enough to make this movie.

“One wonderful thing is we shot it next door to me. The house in which we filmed and my house share a fence. We’d do a scene, then I’d come home for lunch. Really nice way to work.”

Sitting in drop-dead-gorgeous black lace Valentino (“It’s borrowed. I’m like Cinderella”) with thick mascara’d eyelashes that reached to Newark, Julianne recalled her early days:

“My first audition. I was a senior at Juilliard. So nervous I lost five pounds in three days. My legs shook. During the entire three minutes I couldn’t stop shaking, and one foot stayed lower than the other the whole time.

“It all came about because of my high school drama coach, who told me I had to be an actress. Unfortunately, she didn’t see me become a big star.”

RUSSELL Simmons: “I’m fighting to redo archaic drug laws. Filling beds with diseased people costs taxpayers money. We can’t afford to support diseased drug dealers. Throwing them in jail is where they get more drugs. I’m promoting awareness. They need healing. Rehab.

“I have help from people like Kim Kardashian, Justin Bieber, even Bill O’Reilly, who said: ‘First you fought gun owners. Now you’re helping crack dealers?’ ”

EX-Rep Gabrielle Giffords, husband Mark Kelly at Central Park’s Boathouse . . . To go with Jay-Z, the Yankees’ Robinson Cano shed super-agent Scott Boras and marketing agent Mead Chasky, who’d been with him since pre-star days. A settlement was made. A court fight averted . . . Megan Hilty strutting NYC streets in a Sportique Brooklyn Nets T-shirt.

HEY, you can’t keep a good cougar down. Today, Metropolitan Club, Martha Stewart’s the City Harvest luncheon guest . . . Discovered a great Mediterreanean restaurant. Amali on E. 60th. Specially prepared healthy foods. Owner James gets fish from a private Montauk fisherman, veggies from small Ohio farms and chicken from Ithaca. Just letting you know.

DIRECTOR Baz Luhrmann’s wife, Catherine Martin, worked with etiquette director Lily Lodge on “The Great Gatsby.” How servants behaved, which was very respectful, always knowing their place. How that era’s social folk dressed. How ladies wore hats like cloches. And then came the hatless fashion revolution, which is why, says Lily, it’s called The Roaring ’20s.

GIRLS who don’t know polo from Manolo rushing to see Prince Harry try to knock off Nachjo Figueras at this month’s big match in Connecticut. Each hopes to catch his eye — or other parts . . . “Dancing With the Stars’ ’’ Karina Smirnoff’s bloomers are in a twist because nobody mentioned she’s at the Beacon Theatre Wednesday in Bright Future International’s Beyond the Ballet charity thing.

WORDS of wisdom: So how’s a cemetery raise its burial prices then blame it on the cost of living?

THE University Club, 54th and Fifth, founded 10 minutes after BC, is still populated by coots. When she was first lady, Hillary and I were thrown out of there following one emergency cellphone call. En route to me back then, protocol slowed Hillary’s timing so, punching one quick-dial number, a three-second call told my TV producer, “Cover for me if I’m late.”

A half room away a potted plant — clearly one of its original members — rose, lurched over and wheezed, “Madam, that machine is not tolerated here” and removed us both.

That was Dec. 10, 1997. Geezergate’s ruling remains in existence more than 15 years later.

Last week a lawyer reports that a lady, walking from the ladies room, took out her cell. A member limped up to order her stopped or removed from the premises.

Only in New York, kids, only in New York.