SHE was late, of course she was late. But then she's always been late. When she was working for me at Condé Nast 10 years ago, when she interviewed the likes of Hugo Chavez, Vladimir Putin, Piers Morgan and Skepta for GQ, she was always coming to my office in Vogue House, and she was never on time. But that was Naomi. She would then sprawl on my sofa, instruct one of my assistants to fetch her a Big Mac and pour the charm on. Nothing changes. A few weeks ago, she was 90 minutes late for me at the Dorchester, and even though I gave her a hard time when she eventually turned up, I soon gave up. She has this disarming habit of batting her eyes at you, and it works. Of course, it works. She's Naomi.
In my experience, she has two speeds: flirtatious and angry. But she didn't seem too angry when we met. In fact, she told me she was beyond anger. "There's a few people I regret punching," she said, as she sat down. "But ignoring people is stronger than punching because no one likes to be ignored."
Not even Linda Evangelista, who appears to be Naomi's current bête noire. At one point she was talking about being part of a generation of models who were the original influencers, but while she rattled off the likes of Kate Moss, Christy Turlington and Stephanie Seymour, poor old Linda was very conspicuous by her absence.
"Insincerity makes me angry, and ungratefulness," she said. "Especially when you know you've gone out of your way to really help someone, and they can't say thank you. Not a simple thank you. It's not anger so much as a grand disappointment."
When I asked if she was talking about someone in particular, she said: "Correct." Evangelista and she have unfollowed each other on Instagram, they avoid each other at fashion shows and now can't bear to be in the same room. Or indeed the same postcode. Naomi can't stand her.
Esta historia es de la edición June 10, 2024 de Evening Standard.
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Esta historia es de la edición June 10, 2024 de Evening Standard.
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