ELLE.COM/UK May 2020 1O3
‘I never had that urge to be in the limelight,’ she tells me, as we settle
into two worn leather chairs in what I assume is her living room, but
feels more like an art gallery. It is a cloudless February morning.
Sun pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows as a lone cat moves
languorously from room to room. Art hangs on every wall and on
the coffee table sits a rather incongruous bowl of Quality Street.
‘When I started modelling, I didn’t go to an agency saying,
“I want to be a model.” And I never looked at it as, “I want to be
famous,” either,’ she says. ‘So I came at the angle of, “I want to
be good at it and I want to be at the top.”’
The story of how she was ‘spotted’ as a 17-year-old in
a Düsseldorf nightclub is now legend. She was tall, gangly and
knock-kneed. Her bum ‘stuck out’. She was there, so the story
goes, with a far more attractive friend, and yet it was Schiffer the
model agent wanted. She cut a deal with her parents: she would
postpone her law degree and learn French while she tried to make
it as a model, then return home when it inevitably didn’t work out.
By 1989 however, a Guess campaign shot by Ellen von
Unwerth unleashed her into the world – a juicy, cantilevered
approximation of a young Bardot – her image lining every
adolescent’s bedroom from Innsbrook to Idaho. It was the first
step on a fashion treadmill whose speed and incline only increased
from there. She became known by her first name alone, opened
and closed couture shows, was a muse for Karl Lagerfeld and
quickly became accustomed to a life under the giant insect eye
of a genuflecting public.
It’s been 3O years since the supermodels first reigned... but
their impact still settles over the fashion world like table confetti left
behind from the world’s brightest party. Schiffer will turn 5O this
year.Fifty.Canyoubelieveit?Fiftyusedtobetheagewhenthe
worldstoppedwatching– thegatewaytoold.Butnotanymore.
Onthedaywemeet,JLohasjustkamikazedherwayaroundthe
SuperBowlstagewithalltheenergyandslinkofa tigercub.At52,
JuliaRobertsis splashedacrossthepapersinanEresbikiniwith
thewords‘sizzling’festoonedaboveherimage.MinnieDriver’s
birthday,meanwhile,is furiouslytrendingonsocialmediaasthe
worldscratchesitshead,slack-jawedandsaying:‘She’s5O?’
Schiffer,too,is a brightsemaphoreforwhat
experienceandagebringtothetable.She
stillfrontsadcampaigns(sheis,threedecades
later,stillafaceofChanel–thistimeforitsJ12
watches),paparazzilensesstilltwitchwhen
shewalksbyandsheisstillthegreatbeauty
sheoncewas.Lessbouncy,sure.Insteadher
beautyiscontainedina muchmorestillvessel,
thepatinaoftimeandexperiencelendingher
analmosthandsomequality.Shebarelydrinks,
shetellsme– and,despitebeinga sugaraddict,
hasbeensugar-freeforthelastfewmonths.(Her
pets,pastandpresent,bearthenamesRollo,SmartieandMilka).
She’snotbigonexercise,though,shesays– a bitofbarrehere,
tenniswithfriends,walkingthedogs– shecouldtakeit orleaveit.
I askwhetherit’shardertoagewhenbeautyhasdefinedyour
entirelife.Shesmiles.
‘I’vehadmanywonderfulcomplimentsinmytime,’shesays.
Butthenyougettothenextstageandyoumoveon.Youdon’t
havetobecalled[beautiful]yourentirelife.It’sa nicememory,laudia Schiffer’s
kitchen wind ws field, broken
only by a sm nce, the lights of
a small town e of Oxfordshire,
the side far fr w dominated by
spotless Range Rovers and private members’ clubs. It is where
farmers still farm and pubs are untouched by Farrow & Ball. It is not
where one would expect an original supermodel
to be found, gazing out on a landscape as big
as a Gursky, on the cusp of her 5Oth birthday.
Then again, Claudia Schiffer never was like
any other supermodel. She was quieter, more
serious, more steely. There was a sense she was
there for the work, not for the play. She did not
routinely tread the red carpet or shimmy up to
rock stars. Pull the clips, do the internet trawl, ask
around... but you’ll be hard-pressed to find a
single image of Claudia Schiffer sat on a lap,
snorting with laughter over a bottle of Bollinger.
Let’s be clear: Claudia Schiffer was, for at least the 199Os,
one of the most famous women on earth. She was a supermodel,
part of the phenomenally powerful collective of women who
owned the catwalks, snaffled every luxury ad campaign and
could sell anything to anyone. Supermodel... today the term is
tossed about with gracious abandon, but really, if we’re being
completely honest, there were only ever five: Linda, Christy, Cindy,
Naomi and Claudia.
“ I NEVER HAD THAT
URGE TO BE
in the limelight.
I CAME FROM THE
ANGLE OF
‘I want to be good
AT IT AND
I WANT TO BE AT
T HE TOP ’ ”