Naomi Campbell has never stopped working. Talk to any of her friends and colleagues and one of the things they invariably mention is her bone-deep love of hustle: This is a woman who stays on the move. (She has, according to André Leon Talley, about half a dozen international cell phones on her at all times, packed into Ziploc bags with their country-appropriate chargers.) The fact that Naomi embraces work, taking its complications in her hip-swiveling stride and continuously seeking out new challenges, helps to explain her career’s remarkable longevity. There have been many iterations of Naomi Campbell over the years—in the 1980s, she was a teenage modeling prodigy with a dancer’s poise and a megawatt smile; today, she’s the legend bringing her supersize persona to bear on both philanthropic causes and regular appearances on the hit TV show Empire. It might seem arbitrary to single her out as an icon of the nineties, except that the 1990s was the decade when Naomi Campbell became, simply, “Naomi.”
The word supermodel gets a lot of action these days. But the original “supers”—Naomi and her peers Cindy, Linda, Christy, and, eventually, Kate—loomed larger in the cultural imagination than any models before or since. They dominated runways and magazine covers. Their jet-set, party-hopping, star-dating lifestyles were (pre-Internet!) scuttlebutt for folk in Middle America—and middle-of-pretty-much-everywhere-else, too. When Naomi stumbled in her mile-high shoes on Vivienne Westwood’s catwalk in Paris in 1993, the event made the nightly news. And the nightly news still mattered—a lot—back then. The photo of a laughing Naomi, picking herself up after that tumble, is one of many, many images of her that endure to this day, as a quick gloss of Instagram will attest. We spoke to several of Naomi’s closest associates to find out what made her the megamodel—“super” will no longer do—built to last.
Naomi Campbell was born in South London in 1970. Her mother was a dancer, and like her, Naomi gravitated to the spotlight: She attended stage school from the age of three, and trained as a ballerina. As a child, she appeared in videos for Bob Marley and Culture Club and on the British TV series Grange Hill. Beth Boldt, the head of the London-based Synchro modeling agency, scouted Naomi at fifteen, and soon invited Bethann Hardison, former model and head of her own agency in the States, to come to London to see if she, too, wanted to work with the fresh young face. Naomi wound up signing with Eileen Ford, but Hardison became her “Ma”—her surrogate mother in New York City.
Bethann Hardison, advocate for diversity in fashion: “The first time she came to New York—for an American Vogue shoot, if I recall correctly—she called me. I may have been the only person she knew here. And I’ve been there for her ever since. I guess you could call me her U.S. stage mom.
“If you want to understand what made Naomi special, right from the start, you know, there was the look—of course—but it was also her personality. Demure in one way but strong, like a buffalo soldier, in another. I mean, to think of her moving to New York, alone, at sixteen or seventeen, and setting up her own apartment the way she did—she just knew how to handle herself. She had drive.”
Christy Turlington: “I first met Naomi Campbell in the summer of 1986 in London. We were shooting with Robert Erdmann—Stephanie Seymour was also there, and Guido Palau was the hairdresser. We were all young and fairly new to the industry. Naomi was hilarious and had us in stitches the whole time. Several months later when Naomi came to New York, I offered her to stay with me. I remember there was a Conran’s near Astor Place back then; we went there for shower curtains and hangers and other housewares. That was as close to having a dorm roommate as I ever got.”
Naomi quickly made her presence felt in the industry. And according to André Leon Talley, who was on set for many of her early shoots for Vogue, it was Naomi’s charisma, more than anything else, that set her apart. She was a born performer.
André Leon Talley, contributing-large, Vogue: “It was an extraordinary lineup of models in the 1990s. But for Naomi, it was her unique presence on the runway that elevated her. I mean, we shot her all the time for Vogue, she was fantastic on camera. But the walk . . . She has that incredible walk, and she lifts any look that she’s wearing. You have to remember, she was a dancer. She brings that energy to the runway. For me, there’s never been anything like Naomi tap-dancing in that Alaïa show. That’s my image of her, always—full of joy, tap-dancing down the runway.”
Naomi has opened and closed more Anna Sui shows than any other model. And Sui—who also credits Campbell as instrumental in getting her very first fashion show off the ground—waxes as poetic as Talley about Naomi’s eye-catching walk. But for Sui, it was Naomi’s sense of style that made her such an inspiration to designers.
Anna Sui, designer: “No model walks like Naomi. No model makes a dress come alive like Naomi. I’ve used her to open so many shows because she comes out and makes a statement. But, you know, I knew her socially before we ever started working together, and all I can say is, even when she was so, so young, she was one of the most glamorous people I’d ever met. Steven Meisel and Linda and Christy, they’d come over for dinners at my apartment, or we’d go out together, and it was always so much fun to hang out with her, because I loved to see what she was wearing. At the beginning it was head-to-toe designer, but then she got into this more hippie-chic thing . . . Naomi was the first to do, like, flared jeans and a choker. And then there was a purple phase. Or I think about that great picture of her in the elevator at Bergdorf’s, in a crochet hat and bell-bottoms. . . . Whatever she put on, she embodied it and became the perfect image of it. And so, I think, besides her natural attributes and besides the personality, her everyday sense of style made her what she was. Designers looked at her, and they wanted her to wear their clothes. Not just on the runway. In life, too.”
Naomi was a confirmed fashion industry favorite at the time she, Cindy, Linda, Christy, and Tatjana Patitz appeared in the video for George Michael’s song “Freedom! ’90.” But that award-winning video—inspired by a Peter Lindbergh shoot, directed by David Fincher, and styled by Camilla Nickerson—marked a turning point in Naomi’s career, and officially launched the “supermodel” era. “Freedom! ’90” was still in heavy rotation on MTV when Gianni Versace staged one of fashion’s great coups de théâtre, sending Naomi, Linda, Cindy, and Christy down his runway arm in arm, singing along with the song . . .
Turlington: “I met Gianni Versace when I was 16, shooting campaigns with Richard Avedon in New York, and I got to know and love his family over the course of many years. When Naomi was first living with me, I accompanied Gianni to the CFDAs, and Naomi wanted to come but she wasn’t invited. So she found a photographer friend to take her along and sat at his table. I guess I must have introduced them that night. It was just a few years later that we all were in the George Michael video, and Gianni loved the whole thing. It was his idea to have us all come out together, singing along to the song. Looking back now, connecting that song and all of us during a Versace fashion show in Milan that season—it’s really the pinnacle of that period for me.”
Not that there wasn’t some friendly competition among the members of the supermodeling elite . . .
Hardison: “These girls were running everywhere to do everything all the time. Work all day, out at night. On and off airplanes. They kept an eye on each other—as friends, but as rivals, too. I remember one night, I went to the Fashion Group International awards, to accept an award on behalf of Steven Meisel. Well, at those awards, they’d show the work of all the photographers being honored, and you could see how many photographs there were of each girl. Christy, Naomi, and Linda were there that night, too, and I’ll never forget Linda saying, ‘Damn, she beat us again.’ Naomi always had the most photographs. And we’re talking more photos even than Linda, who is just magic on camera.”
Photographers loved Naomi; designers considered her a muse. Versace, Azzedine Alaïa, Rifat Özbek, Sui—and many more. Valentino was one of the seduced, casting Naomi in numerous shows and campaigns.
As Valentino notes, Naomi did develop a reputation for being demanding. Talley likewise recalls waiting hours for her to turn up to shoots—and it being worth it, of course, once she showed. But there was a flip side to Naomi’s diva tendencies: Her insistence that she be paid on par with her peers and get at least an equal share of the limelight made her a trailblazer for other models of color. Zac Posen, who met Naomi when he was a student at Central Saint Martins in the late 1990s, is adamant that these are two sides of the same coin.
Zac Posen, designer: “People ask me about whether she’s difficult to work with. I have never seen it. I also have witnessed how hysterical people get in her presence. I remember having dinner with her at Sant Ambroeus in the West Village, and as we walked down the street to her car, people started screaming at her. It was like a mini gay pride parade. There are very few people who just walk out of a restaurant and create that kind of hysteria. And I think she’s had to fight. I find it kind of revolting—she’s never been the face of a major cosmetics company. That’s insane. She’s had to pave the way through the eighties and nineties, continuing something that Iman and Pat Cleveland had started, but still, you know, she had to fight.”
Hardison: “She stood up for herself. She came to the table, she delivered, and she could see what was right and what was wrong. She made sure no one did better than her. If someone was making more money for the same job, she’d say something. And she was defiant—she wasn’t afraid to walk away from a job. And to their credit, Linda and Christy supported her on that, too.”
Indeed, Naomi herself has frequently acknowledged Linda and Christy’s role in helping her break ground in terms of diversity in casting. In interviews, she’s said that there were many instances in which her Trinity-mates showed solidarity with her, refusing to walk in shows unless Naomi was cast, too.
Turlington: “I have heard her tell that story. But I can’t recall a specific case where I had to do much more than mention that there was this young, beautiful, talented young woman that everyone would want to know soon. Anyway, Naomi was always her own best advocate. She never let anyone get away with anything.”
Despite her reputation, many of Naomi’s longtime collaborators describe her as great fun to work with and not “difficult” at all. Edward Enninful, for instance, first met Naomi in 1993, when he was assisting on a cover shoot for i-D, and recalls the experience as a total breeze.
Edward Enninful, fashion and style director, W magazine: “We had to wait for her after the Chanel couture show. She came out wearing an Anna Sui floral dress, and pearls like the kind Whitney Houston used to wear. It’s, like, crystal in my mind—I can see her in that dress and those pearls now. Our connection was instant. We went to [hairdresser] Julian d’Ys’s studio and shot the cover in an hour. Then we headed off to have supper. And that’s still one of my favorite i-D covers. Naomi had already worked with the best of the best by then, and she just knew what to do in front of the camera.”
Enninful is one of Naomi’s closest friends, and they’ve worked together numerous times over the years. And like Talley, he thinks of Naomi as a performer—but for him, what’s magical about her is the way she can inhabit a character.
Enninful: “With Paolo Roversi, we shot her as a boy. Craig McDean and I shot her as Elvis Presley. She’s easy to imagine as a character—she’s happy to play, and she doesn’t just show up and do the job, she prepares like an actor, looking at references and so on. When she gets to set, she’s fully formed. But what’s really remarkable about Naomi is that, on the one hand, she can get into character, but on the other hand, she never disappears into that character. You never lose Naomi. The force of her personality always comes through. When people talk about her ‘star quality,’ that’s what they’re referring to. I think of her as a silent movie star.”
Naomi worked prodigiously throughout the 1990s. And she didn’t just model: Naomi cut a couple of records, and made guest appearances on TV, too. A passion for performing is a recurring theme, talking to her friends—Hardison, for instance, describes Naomi’s attraction to “the heat of the stage,” when asked why she continues to turn up on catwalks, 30 or so years into her career. And Valentino notes that Naomi has always shone in the spotlight.
Valentino: “I want to talk about one show, one hot summer night in 1995, the big show at the Piazza di Spagna. Naomi was up there on the stairs wearing a lilac velvet dress and holding a naked male model. She did not play difficult then; she was amused and ready to shock the thousand Roman people watching the show. It was a huge success.”
Of course, there’s also a Naomi behind the scenes . . .
Talley: “Being with Naomi is like being in a film. You know, Polly Maggoo? It’s that thing—expect the unexpected. And also expect lots of suitcases. You might be recruited to pack a suitcase with her at the last minute. I’ve done it. Oh, the amount of clothes that had to be packed . . . not just her own clothes she’d brought with her, but clothes gifted to her by designers—I mean, piles and piles and piles. Also, she’s constantly on the phone. She has multiple phones. I got a peek at her carry-on bag on one flight, and that’s all it was—cell phones and Tabasco sauce. She loves hot sauce. She puts it on everything.”
Hardison: “The thing people don’t know about Naomi is, she’s a great cook. And she loves hot sauce. She’s also incredibly organized—I mean, how else could you manage a life like that, if you weren’t? But she’s always been that way. Years ago, when she was nineteen or 20, I’d go to her place, and the dresses were hung up on the wall like art pieces. Very neat, very organized, but also very much her style.”
Sui: “When you’re with Naomi, hanging out relaxing, she’s always just cuddling into a chair. It’s so the opposite of how erect and perfect she is on the runway. She’s giggly and girlish. She had that album, Baby Woman, and that’s her. But then she comes on the runway and she turns it on.”
Posen: “I was living in a basement flat in Bloomsbury, and I remember seeing through the front window, these incredible legs and a bag that said ‘N’ on it. And she came in, and she smelled delicious, and handed me a bottle of her latest perfume and a book—I think it was on Nelson Mandela. It was the first time I’d been exposed to somebody who even had the idea of a personal brand. Then she gave me 200 quid to go buy fabric for her.
“I learned—like, really learned—how to do fittings on her. She was patient and down to earth and showed me all the tricks she’d picked up over the years, doing couture fittings and working with designers like Alaïa. I mean, she calls Azzedine ‘Papa,’ and those are all-night fittings. She knows the proportions of her body inside and out. And she knows how to walk in a dress the right way. The first time she walked for me, it was in my second show, and I just think about the way she’d lift her arm in a bias-cut dress. She wouldn’t lift it all the way, because that would stretch out the torso. She’s an expert on clothes.”
What accounts for Naomi Campbell’s staying power?
Posen: “First of all, her longevity has to do with 100 percent her drive and her resilience and the fact that she thinks outside the box. And then, on top of that, she is truly genetically spectacular. It’s unbelievable—her hair, her nails, her bone structure, her body. I don’t know if perfect is the word, but . . . spectacular. I can just stare at her, honestly. Even after all these years. And she takes incredible care of herself.
“But I think that if it just had been her looks, her great walk, well, that’s not what makes superstars. When she walked my last fashion show, it was like the energy in the room just turned up by, like, a thousand points. And when you’ve got that, that thing, you can make a difference, you can create change. The only other people I’ve been around who have that thing are Madonna and Johnny Depp.”
Hardison: “I keep telling her, ‘Stop modeling! Why are you still at it?’ But she just loves it. She loves being photographed. She loves the game—she’s competitive. She’s an athlete at it. And she loves the runway. And she comes out, and there’s that gasp. You hear it.”
Enninful: “Naomi always knew she was going to be a star. Iman has this great story—it was the late eighties, she was nearing retirement, and one day at a show in Paris this girl walks up to her and asks, ‘Why do you hate me?’ And Iman replies, ‘Hate you? I don’t even know you.’ And that girl was Naomi. She expected to be noticed, even then, even in the beginning
“But it’s not even about fame. It’s not even about drive. She just loves being a model. It’s that simple. She’s happiest when she’s modeling. I’m like, ‘Naomi, you’ve done this for 30 years . . .” But she loves it, she’s the ultimate muse. She’ll be going forever if that’s what she chooses. She’s excited by designers, she’s excited by stylists, she’s excited by photographers and pictures. Everything else is kind of secondary.”
Sui: “I think the question, when it comes to Naomi, is, why would she stop? She doesn’t have to. People are still dying to book her. I mean, somewhere along the line, she transcended. She became ‘Naomi.’ And transcended everything—race, the rest of the crew of supermodels, everything. She became the aim for every other model, of color or otherwise. She’s the legend.”
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