Born to Be Brad (19 page)

This is the first night I wore a bow tie. I was in New York, and Annabet Duvall and I went to Arena. It was so hot that night, but I refused to take off my black cashmere Marc Jacobs sweater, because I thought I’d look like a waiter. But it was a big hit.

“This moment would forever define us: It was the realization of just how far we had to climb. Though we didn’t know this yet, there would come a day when we wouldn’t have to beg to get a ticket to a fashion show.”

While in New York, I assisted
Vogue
’s Lawren Howell on a portfolio of CFDA Award finalists. She could have used a New York assistant, but she used me. We shot Liya Kebede and Peter Som at a haunting mansion on Long Island that was frozen in time. There was no heat and we were shivering but the project was like a jolt in the arm. I was filled with a sense of purpose. This little taste of the fashion world was enough to make me feel like I was a part of something larger. That action was enough to keep me going.

I was back in Los Angeles when a saving grace arrived—in the form of Grace Coddington.

I
t was November 2007, and Grace, the legendary creative director of American
Vogue,
was flying out from New York for a three-day fashion shoot at Frank Sinatra’s onetime home in the San Fernando Valley, where he often held court with the Rat Pack. Sinatra moved into the home in 1945 and recorded a song about the Valley. The lyrics: “
’cause I’ve decided where yours truly should be, and it’s the San Fernando Valley for me
.” And that day it was for me as well. Mario Testino was shooting. The model Karen Elson, then married to Jack White of the White Stripes, was the star. In short, it was major.

If I was nervous that day, it had everything to do with Grace Coddington. Not because of her reputation as a demanding perfectionist, but because I was obsessed with her. Grace grew up in a tiny town in Wales, so remote she’d have to send away for copies of
Vogue;
the magazines would arrive three months after their on-sale date. At age seventeen, she won a modeling contest and suddenly found herself in the pages of the very magazine she’d worshipped all those years. She was stunning—a vision of pale, frizzy red hair. Helmut Newton shot Grace more than once. Devastatingly, at age twenty-six, Grace was in a car accident in which she lost an eyelid, thus cutting her modeling career short. She was not done with fashion, though. Hardly. Grace worked for British
Vogue
for nineteen years and eventually made her way to American
Vogue,
where she and Anna Wintour started work within days of each other. She is Anna’s right-hand woman, the Gayle to Anna’s Oprah, as anyone who saw the documentary
The September Issue
knows. Where Anna is a vision of extreme control, Grace is as fiery as her red hair, a wild and woolly mane that is her signature and her armor all at once. I remember buying her book,
Grace: Thirty Years of Fashion at Vogue,
just before my internship and flipping through the pages, wondering how I could get on set with one of the biggest legends in the fashion world.

I didn’t expect that I’d have much interaction with Grace on this shoot, of course. My job that day was to help Grace’s assistant, Sonya, with whatever she needed. Still, I got to watch. We showed up at the Sinatra estate and the first thing I noticed wasn’t the period-perfect kitchen or the beautiful gardens, but rather Grace’s concise fashion edit. This is a woman who knows what she likes. There were only four racks of clothing. The theme for the shoot was 1950s glamour, which would have been obvious to anyone who saw her edit. There was Dior (tight fitted tops and full-skirted silhouettes) and Marc Jacobs (pointy-toed pumps with ostrich bows) and pairs of cat-eye glasses. There were floral rubber bathing caps by Marni and skinny belts, cardigans, and gloves. There was no on-the-fly tinkering here, no boiling down of the looks on set to a central message. That work had already been painstakingly done back in New York.

Mario Testino arrived on set and breezed through like a cloud of effervescent smoke. He was the definition of charming. Not to mention seriously funny. And he interacted with everyone, his quick laugh making even the catering hands feel essential and—more important—feel beautiful. Having met him, it’s clear how he gets the likes of Angelina Jolie to disrobe for his lens.

I had my marching orders for this three-day shoot: I was to be seen and not heard. And for the bulk of the time, that was how it went. Until Sonya needed me on set. There I was holding a tray of sunglasses in my arms, like a soldier at the ready. Watching Grace on set is like taking a master class in the importance of fine details. Grace placed Karen Elson in an open bedroom doorway, the two French doors ajar. Karen was dressed in a strapless metallic blue Nina Ricci dress, with Marc Jacobs silk gloves. It was one of my favorite looks from that season’s Nina Ricci collection. Grace placed Karen’s hands against the door. Gorgeous light came into the room directly over Karen’s shoulder, bathing her in a lush glow.

“
Divino,
” Mario said.

But Grace was still fiddling. Mario brought a childlike energy with him, but Grace was the taskmaster. They worked in tandem, like a well-oiled glamour machine. Grace was dressed in workmanlike Prada, black slacks and a white top, and she was a mercenary of precision. She was posing Karen like the most beautiful paper doll, instructing her how to hold her body. The direction was hyper-specific: Move your hand down half an inch and turn your body a quarter of an inch. These were not casual whims. Grace could see the frame, she could see how the photograph would be laid out in the pages of
Vogue.
Her eye is so trained, she can see the shot before it’s taken. Standing at the back of the room, I thought, I have never seen Karen Elson look so beautiful as she does today in this light. I want to see what Grace sees. I want to know what she knows.

It was a rare moment of calm on the set. Later, Grace was running around saying there were too many people at the shoot. There were assistants hanging out by the catering all day and she went ballistic. One of the production assistants was some L.A. surfer dude with his hair pulled back into a blond ponytail and wearing Dickies pants. Grace kept asking people what he did. “He’s always eating,” she said. “Why is he always eating? What is he doing here?”

Grace is old-school. She comes from a time where you’d go to the Australian outback with a crew of five, and you’d be carrying the clothes yourself and everyone would be pulling double duty, collaborating together trying to make beautiful photos. Now there are seventy-five people on set and you don’t know who is doing what. Grace is also one of the few major stylists who is still so hands-on. She jokes that she’s one of the last who still touches the model herself. Now here was this Spicoli-type dude raiding the craft services table.

I was in fear of being evicted from the set. More than that, I wanted Grace to like me. This was a special opportunity. And I was so desperately trying to look busy, desperately trying to earn my keep. That’s one thing I learned as an intern: Always look busy. There’s always something that needs straightening. Something always needs fixing.

And so I started steaming skirts, straightening accessories, organizing the bags—anything to stay in the frame myself. There was a custom Gucci dress Grace was expecting that day, a dress that was stuck at the airport in customs. (I know the feeling.) And so I called Worldnet, the courier service of choice for fashion, every fifteen minutes to see when we could expect that dress to show up. The whole day was about that dress. “Where is the Gucci?” Grace kept asking.

When the dress finally materialized, the moment was decidedly anticlimactic. Grace took one look at the dress hanging on the rack, said, “This isn’t going to work,” and walked away. Oh, well.

“It takes a village to raise a fashion story.”

At this point, I was fairly certain Grace and I would not speak. Which was fine. It was enough that I saw her and Mario Testino collaborate. That was enough of a lesson to make this entire job at V
ogue
worthwhile. These were the moments I lived for. And it certainly beat sending flowers. I was continuing to fiddle on set, continuing to earn my keep, when I noticed a cream, halter-neck Donna Karan dress with a cinched waist and a full skirt, very Marilyn Monroe in
The
Seven Year Itch,
hanging on a rack. I remembered the dress from the look book. It was all big silk chiffon, and it had been terribly flattened out in transport. Now the dress looked sad. And so I steamed each layer individually, hoping to restore the volume to the skirt, steaming from the inside, pulling on the fabric just like Marina taught me at
W
magazine.

Moments later, Grace appeared at my side like a phantom.

“Did you steam this dress?” she said, those eyes beating down on me.

“Yes,” I said, my stomach turning over.

She got in close to my face. “You’ve breathed new life into that dress,” she said. “I never thought it could look that way.” She grabbed the dress off the rack and just as suddenly she was gone again.

When the shoot wrapped the next night, Grace, Mario Testino, Karen Elson, and a tight-knit group from their respective teams headed off to what we call a family dinner. Because that’s the vibe on these sets; it takes a village to raise a fashion story. In a move of unheralded generosity, Grace thanked me for my hard work and invited me to join them to celebrate at Madeo, an Italian restaurant on Beverly.

I was floored. At dinner I sat across from Karen Elson, whom I idolized. She talked about her kids and Jack White and Nashville. And my only goal was to keep from being a creep. It was a very stylish crowd, and I couldn’t believe I was sitting there. But I didn’t want to sit there blinking. When people see me on television, they think that socializing comes naturally to me, that it’s easy for me to be in a group. But I’m actually quite shy, and at dinner I had to force myself to participate in the conversation. Open your mouth! I told myself.

Speak Up!

HOW TO START A CONVERSATION (EVEN WHEN YOU’RE TONGUE-TIED)

1. If you are shy, ask someone a question about themselves. It can be as simple as “How was your day today?”

2. Compliments always work! Try commenting on what someone is wearing, whether it be a piece of jewelry, a handbag, shoes, or a hairstyle.

3. If you can’t speak, let your clothing talk for you. Wear something special that stands out in the crowd—an item of clothing or an accessory that you are extremely proud of. The way you are dressed can be a conversation starter. People will be complimenting you!

“But I’m actually quite shy, and at dinner I had to force myself to participate in the conversation. Open your mouth! I told myself.”

Everyone was enjoying the wine and Mario Testino kept talking about a party in the Hollywood Hills that we all
had to
go to. And Grace was ignoring phone calls from New York. I’d tested boundaries before, and I certainly wasn’t going to drop in on a party in the Hills with Mario Testino. It was enough that I was invited to the dinner table. I didn’t need to risk overstaying my welcome.

My Ten Favorite Fashion Icons*

*NOT INCLUDING THE OBVIOUS: MARILYN MONROE, MADONNA, AND GRACE CODDINGTON

1. Diana Ross

Think of her in Central Park singing in the rain in that red sequined jumpsuit. She’s everything I like in a woman—feathers, sequins, flawless hair and makeup, and charm. And a little untouchable.

2. Courtney Love

Her baby-doll, grunge, Hole phase had a huge impact on me and my girlfriends. The nighties and baby barrettes and Mary Janes were so twisted and yet so genius.

3. Cary Grant

The classic gentleman. Whenever I want to dress handsome, without any trendy or super-fashionable overtones, I think, What would Cary Grant do?

4. Audrey Hepburn

Most people think of her in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s,
but I love her in
Funny Face
. The black turtleneck, the ballet flats, the cropped pant—one of my favorite looks ever.

5. Molly Ringwald

I was—and still am—obsessed with John Hughes movies, and I loved her attitude. Wearing Ralph Lauren in
The Breakfast Club. Making
her prom dress in
Pretty in Pink.
The bridesmaid dress in
Sixteen Candles.
Three iconic fashion moments, all made successful by her attitude and mood.

6. Grace Kelly