The world’s greatest supermodel has been a fearless champion of diversity in fashion for decades. Now she’s relishing a moment of change
An upside of our new Zoom-operated civilisation is supposed to be the abolishment of lateness. It’s harder to justify when the commute is from your bed to the living room. Unless you’re Naomi Campbell, of course. Twenty minutes into waiting for her to join our call, a message pops up from a representative apologising that she’d be a few minutes late. Another 20 minutes and I’m told she’s “just working out how to sign in”. I’ve been expecting the wait, comparatively tame compared to the tales of four-hour stake-outs I’d heard from other journalists.
And then, suddenly, she enters, and the atmosphere changes even in a virtual room, international accent first and then the face that launched 1,000 covers; skin dewy and glowy, goddess-like; impossibly high cheekbones and honey-blonde highlights. “Hi,” she says coyly. Polite but unapologetic. It’s fascinating to witness in real time this acute awareness of her own mythology; an unspoken agreement with anyone she encounters that she will be operating according to her own time zone.
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