The Today Show puts out their press release two weeks in advance, giving me plenty of time to prepare for this morning, researching books and magazines for the perfect photo to get autographed, hoping to find another copy of her CD, which I purchased in Paris back in 1995 but managed to lose in one of my many moves back and forth across the planet. Something, anything that Naomi might, if all the planets aligned, be gracious enough to sign. My boyfriend had the issue of Playboy she appeared in, but the thought of her reaction if I asked her to sign that was a little scarier than I was prepared for, so I scoured eBay and found a mint condition 1997 American Photo magazine with a stunning Herb Ritts cover shot of her in a retro leopard swimsuit, matching gloves, and a black beret, perched on a tiger print pillow. Perfection! I also had a glossy photo of the cover shot in case it didn't arrive in time.
Marie agreed to meet me at Rockefeller Center, and she would get the autograph and I would snap pictures, but when I woke up this morning it was raining which is always the case when it's someone I'm really wanting to get. Twice with Dolly Parton, and now with Naomi. It's close to impossible to hold the umbrella, stay dry, and hold the camera steady to get a clear shot of a moving target, so fuck my life this was not going to be easy. But as I've made it clear to some friends before, do not underestimate me.
I arrived around 7:10, and there was an SUV parked outside the 48th street entrance, but no paparazzi or grapherazzi staking the door out. Hmm....who's car is this? Danny came around the corner from the plaza, and was his usual useless self, telling me it was her, even though he didn't know which her I was even there for. (Julianne Hough was also on the show today, but who cares, right?) Marie showed up a few minutes later, just as 'her' was exiting the building. And by 'her' I mean Cardinal Timothy Dolan, the Archbishop of New York, who was interviewed about the pope's resignation. Needless to say, I didn't take any pictures of 'her.'
No more than 15 minutes later, an SUV pulled up and a large black man stepped from the passenger side around the back to open an umbrella and the back car door, as Naomi emerged in a whiff of fur, sunglasses and stilettos, giving fierce for days to the five of us waiting. Miss Thing does not disappoint, and I snapped away non stop as she stepped right toward and then past me, the ultimate Glamazon, Marie in step with her asking for the autograph. I didn't think she'd sign and I don't think Marie thought so either, but damned if Naomi Campbell didn't sign the glossy photo just as she entered the building!
As we waited in the rain, another SUV pulled up and deposited Julianne Hough. I took a picture because she was there, but the hair and outfit were tragic for such a pretty girl.
Phil, the cranky security guard came out and asked that we all get off the property and stay on the sidewalk or he'd catch hell from the building staff. He was actually pretty cool, and for the first time ever told us he didn't care if we were there or not, but that the building people were giving him shit for it. He asked who we were waiting for, and when someone said 'Naomi Campbell' he told us we'd be waiting awhile and then actually told me what time her segment was. He has NEVER, I repeat NEVER, done that before, and for the first time I saw another side of him. So Phil, I apologize for all the rotten things I've thought about you over the last year or so. You're okay in my book. Armed with that information, it was off to the window, figuring why hang around on the sidewalk when I could see the segment and at least be entertained while I waited.
After a segment about an NFL cheerleader fighting Facebook cyberbullying and a Matt Lauer fatherhood PSA, Julianne was brought out and led to the stools in the window, her back to the few of us outside in the rain. The reflective skrim that is normally on the window wasn't there today, perhaps because of the rain, so there was a clear shot of anyone inside the studio, as long as you could focus through the raindrops on the window. And that's when they brought Naomi out. STUNNING in a white blouse, black pants that went on for days, and the highest heels imaginable, she sat in the chair to the front corner of the studio. RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! FACING ME! Holy shit! I snapped away as if my life depended on it, juggling the camera, my umbrella, my bag, my gloves and my patience until an assistant handed her a cellphone and I ran like hell. Not really; they moved her to the Julianne stool once the segment was over, and her back was to me.
I headed around the corner, hoping to catch a few shots of her through the 49th street window, and that's where I ran into Miguel. Ugh. Too many raindrops and too much talking, I headed back to the 48th street entrance, hoping to catch Naomi on the way out. I'm not sure what got into me, but rather than take photos I decided to try and get the American Photo magazine signed.
There were a lot more photographers when I got to the 48th street entrance, so this was not going to be cute. I knew she'd never stop and let them take photos, so I had to be in the front, pen ready, when she rounded the corner and headed down the corridor to the door. Ten minutes or so later, Phil came around the corner, followed by the big bodyguard, a small entourage, and somewhere in the mix, Naomi. Phil stepped out first, asking everyone to clear a path and please make room, and moments later, Naomi stepped out, looking just as stunning on the way out as she did on the way in. I heard myself asking 'Naomi, can I have your autograph?', reaching out to her with the magazine and pen. I took a couple steps toward her, asking 'please?' (I'm sure I sounded pathetic, but who cares? She'll never see me again and if she does I'm sure she won't remember and I won't remind her). Naomi could've stunned us with her bitch glare and then cackled as our brains seeped out of our ear holes while she beat us over the head, but she reached for my pen and signed the American Photo magazine!
What is going on Naomi? Are you trying to tell us your super Blackberry-beating power is weakening? Say it ain't so. I don't even know what world we're living in anymore when Naomi Campbell signs autographs for me going in AND out! When I look at these pictures, I don't hear music. I hear the creaky sound of the Four Horsemen's stable door slowly opening.....
No comments:
Post a Comment