Naomi Campbell: no more Miss Nasty

Naomi Campbell makes no apologies for arriving more than an hour late for her interview and photo shoot. She quietly hangs her Fendi coat and fedora on a full-length mirror in Manhattan’s Pier 59 Studios; she pulls two phones from her handbag, studies them for a moment, chooses one and purses her full lips into the mirror before settling into the hair stylist’s chair. ‘I lost one phone yesterday,’ she says, crossing her legs and bouncing an oversized Riccardo Tisci sneaker up and down. ‘I panicked, so now I have two. I’m going to keep one and give the other one away.’ She’s stunning in the flesh, even without her hair and make-up done, with cheekbones that could cut glass and flawless, dewy skin.

I eye the phones with concern, worried that something I say could make her angry. But throughout our conversation, each time I expect a sharp retort, I get a laugh. Campbell’s laughs come from her diaphragm, deep and strong, and when she chortles, the rest of the room (two publicists, a make-up artist and a hair stylist sifting through a giant Ziploc bag filled with wigs) joins in. ‘It’s important to laugh every day,’ she says. ‘I laugh at myself. I don’t take myself that seriously. Trust me, I don’t. I can’t.’ In spite of everything I’ve read about her, all the scandalous tabloid tales of temper tantrums and violent outbursts, I so want to believe that this centred woman is the real Naomi Campbell. Because if Naomi Campbell can find her inner Zen, isn’t there hope for the rest of us?

We all know Campbell’s story, and the two phones perched on the table only serve as a reminder. Who could forget that decade where the supermodel was accused no less than ten times of various acts of violence against assistants, employees, police officers — anyone within arm’s reach. In 2000 she pleaded guilty to assaulting her personal assistant with a mobile phone and in 2007 to assaulting her former housekeeper with a BlackBerry. During her court-mandated community service she maintained a diary for W Magazine, for which she was snapped turning up to sweep the streets not in an orange jumpsuit but a silver-sequined Dolce & Gabbana gown.

The following year she assaulted a pair of police officers at Heathrow, spitting at them during a dispute over lost luggage. Campbell was subsequently banned for five years by British Airways. She recently reached an un-disclosed settlement over a claim from the paparazzo Gaetano Di Giovanni, who had alleged that in 2009 she hit him with her handbag and left his face scratched and bruised after he took a photo of Campbell with her Russian billionaire then-boyfriend Vladimir Doronin. Campbell has consistently denied the allegation. (Earlier this month, the British jeweller Laurence Graff purchased an Hermès Birkin bag of Campbell’s at a charity auction for £110,000; the press speculated whether it could be the same one.) She and Doronin split last year after five years together and he was spotted soon after squiring Campbell’s protégé from her reality TV model competition show The Face, the Chinese model Luo Zilin.

Yet none of this drama fazes Campbell. There’s no trace of her fiery temper today. Granted, she’s got authority, rejecting three wigs before finally settling on a tousled ‘middle part’ (wig with a centre parting), but she’s polite and almost excessive with her pleases and thank-yous. ‘My mindset is a little bit wiser because of the adding on of the years,’ she says by way of explanation, the only time she references her age — 44 — in any way.

I start carefully, observing that she seems happy. She pauses. ‘I wasn’t always happy. I’m happy now. What has made me so happy is just accepting life on life’s terms, trying not to control everything, going with the flow, doing what I want to do. That’s what’s important.’ Is she having more fun in her forties? This brings out a naughty smile. ‘I am.’ Campbell has been hitting the town in London and New York: visiting Chiltern Firehouse for photographer Mario Testino’s OTT Gatsby-themed 60th dressed as a flamenco dancer in a daring silver gown with a neckline down to her belly button and flowers in her hair; dining out with Rihanna; she was delightfully silly in a recent charity skit for a celebrity Gogglebox with her long-serving pal Kate Moss and rock star Noel Gallagher, eating Monster Munch but not looking like she watches much primetime TV.

‘Listen,’ she says conspiratorially. ‘I’ve softened a lot over the years. The people who know me know what I’m about. You can’t please everyone. You can’t judge a book by its cover. You know my story. I don’t live in denial about it and that’s it.’

A dedicated fan of Magnolia Bakery cupcakes (‘I can only buy a small one, because if I buy the big one, I’ll eat the whole thing in one go’) and banana pudding, Campbell recently quit sugar after an intense ten-day cleanse. ‘I feel amazing,’ she says — and, even with my bullshit-o-meter turned up high, I believe her. She’s about to embark on a huge project to raise awareness about the spread of Ebola (more of which to follow). To my surprise, I begin to ask Naomi Campbell for advice about how to be more centred. ‘First and foremost, you have to be happy and have a positive mind,’ she says. ‘I do yoga and Pilates and sometimes bootcamp. But you can do all of that and still not be happy. The thought process of doing it is harder than actually just physically doing it. The mind is so powerful. I’ve learned that,’ she says. She really does seem at peace, I say, and she chortles. ‘I am. If I wasn’t, you would know.’

Campbell was the first black model to appear on the cover of Time magazine, French Vogue and Russian Vogue. She’s walked in the shows of every top designer from Chanel to Versace. Model scout Beth Boldt discovered Campbell while she was shopping in Covent Garden aged just 15. She soon had her first assignment — a photo shoot in Alabama for British Elle — and has since graced the covers of more than 500 magazines. She is worth an estimated £30m.