What with all the recent publicity about the lovely Naomi I thought I should award her an exclusive in my humble blog. Like those wonderful cosmetic advertisement ‘She’s worth it’.
I have flown with Naomi three times and got hugged by her once. Not bad averages really, especially as she was in her pyjamas at the time. Let me explain.
The first two times I saw her were on Concorde (naturally). There I was sitting at the back of the cabin with one of the only two remaining empty seats next to me. The flight was clearly being delayed for someone and suddenly she was there. She glided through the door flowing along with tight pants and a sheer silk blouse that left zero to the imagination. You could have heard a pin drop as she sasheyed further towards me and I thought ‘oh my, she is going to sit next to me. At the very last moment she gave me what I then thought was a shy and coquettish smile and……walked straight past. Behind her was an enormous Texan with a gut like a zeppelin who levered himself into the seat next to me, smiling knowingly saying “I guess this ain’t your day son”.
I have to say though Ms Campbell was sensational in that she is one of not too many that looks far better live than she does on the cover of a glossy magazine. She also seemed to have a skill that turns tough international business travellers into fawning lap dogs. “Do let me get your bag off the carousel Ms Campbell”, Let me help you with that Ms Campbell” “Where are you staying in New York Ms. Campbell”. And that was only me. The other passengers were far worse! My last view of her on that occasion was seeing this vast luggage belt with all the male Concorde passengers plus Naomi jammed in one small area as they all vied to carry her Louis Vuitton overnight bag.
My last brush with Naomi was really weird. I was sitting in seat 1A on a flight to Sao Paulo and just before the doors closed I was asked if I would move back a seat to 2A. Reason given was they had a VIP boarding and she always insists on 1A so as not to be bothered by anyone. Being an amiable soul I agreed to move and on wafted the lovely Naomi once more and plonked herself in my ex seat. She then proceeded to talk simultaneously on two phones and a blackberry while we taxied to the runway. She was finally asked to stop by a rather wary air hostess as the engines revved for take-off.
Once in the air she was straight in the toilet and emerged about 20 minutes later dressed in a pair of those grey BA first class pyjamas and a face covered in cream. On any one else it would have appeared awful but on her she looked 1 million dollars. I guess that is why she is still one of the world’s top models. She would make a potato sack look classy.
She obviously planned to go straight to sleep and, as I had a flight load of work to do, I popped round to her side and asked if the light would bother her. She reacted as if I had poked her with a cattle prod by recoiling back, muttering something incoherent and looking the other way. Having faced that apparently hostile response I slunk back to my lonely seat and grappled out my PC and spent the next four hours preparing numerous emails about very little.
Suddenly something changed. I could see a dark grey shadow moving towards my small pool of light preceded by the smell of a heavenly and expensive perfume. It was Naomi. Next thing I had been grabbed and clutched to her bosom. Am I hallucinating I wondered? Should I have stopped at two brandies after dinner? But no, it really was Naomi Campbell suffocating me in a most original but not entirely unpleasant way. She finally released me and said huskily that I had been very nice to her earlier on and “thank you”. Wow I thought, maybe some sections of the media were wrong about her and she was a sweet thing really.
I drifted off to a perfumed sleep and woke on the final approach to Sao Paulo. What woke me were Naomi’s phones, all of them, and she was going ballistic at some poor soul on the other end of one of them. She was demanding to know where he was, who he was with and threatening to get the next plane home. This was before her flight in had even landed and none of the crew seemed inclined or brave enough to tell her to stop.
We got to the gate and set off for the baggage hall. By this time Naomi was screaming at people demanding her bags NOW so she could check in for the return flight. The fuss she created was so great that security was called and I beat a hasty retreat through customs.
The next morning I was having breakfast and listening to the news when her name came up again. The newsreader was saying how Naomi Campbell had collapsed apparently ill at Sao Paulo airport and was rushed to a Brazilian hospital to have an emergency cyst operation. So that is what it was all about I thought. Or was it? Life is never boring when flying with Naomi Campbell.
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