My Fight to the Top (17 page)

She told me all about the beautiful women she had been dancing with. I think she lived up to her Spice Girl name of Scary Spice at that point. She did scare me a wee bit because she was just going on about the show a little too much.

It was a stressful start but it actually turned out to be amazing with the pictures we got in the nightclub. Mel B is a true professional and one of my hardest-working models. Some models say they have had enough after six underwear changes but Mel got up to something like 40 changes – she was a grafter and so down to earth. You would think that for someone who used to be in the Spice Girls, one of the biggest girl bands in the world, she would be a diva, but she so wasn’t. She put the hours in, she worked hard on her body too and she looked incredible in a red satin corset and thong. We finished and celebrated our hard work by going for some drinks and watching the famous fountain and firework show.

‘Can I have a double vodka, please?’ I asked the waiter. I’d been so stressed – I needed a release. ‘Thank god for that,’ I said, raising my glass. I knocked them back, one after the other. Shot after shot after shot. What I didn’t realise was that the vodka shots in Vegas were double what they were in the UK. I didn’t drink at the best of times, let alone double measures. I’d been drinking close to four shots per glass!

After hardly any time, the view of the fountains started to spin. My eyes rolled into my head. I felt like I was going to pass out. I turned to Michael for help because we had to walk through miles of hotel before we got to our room. The Bellagio was massive and full of betting tables and fruit machines. It felt like it went on for miles.

‘Michael, please take me to my room,’ I slurred.

He looked at me and shook his head. ‘I’m not walking all the way back, go yourself,’ he said.

My head was spinning at a hundred miles an hour now. ‘Please, please take me,’ I begged. I wasn’t used to feeling drunk. ‘I can’t go on my own. I feel as if I’m going to collapse.’

Michael got really cross. ‘You’re nothing but a pain in the arse,’ he grumbled, as he hooked his arm through mine.

I was bouncing off the fruit machines like a pinball as Michael walked me to our room. ‘Please stay with me,’ I begged Michael as he plonked me on the bed. I was so scared because I hadn’t ever been that drunk before.
What’s happened to me? Has my drink been spiked?
Of course, it was just the bloody vodka and the fact that I’d been necking quadruple shots of it, but I didn’t realise that at the time.

‘You are not ruining my night. Just get into bed,’ he moaned.

‘Please, I don’t want to be on my own, please help me,’ I whimpered.

‘Just throw up and go to your bed,’ he said.

Michael left me to it, and I stumbled into the bathroom to see if I could make myself sick. But I couldn’t throw up so I fell back instead.

I remember lying like a starfish on the warm tiles of the bathroom. The room was spinning. I started to feel even worse. So what did I do? I decided to run a bath. I thought a cool dip would help me. I tried to make myself sick again but I couldn’t throw up. I couldn’t get it to come up. I slithered into the bath and I don’t remember what happened next but I must have sunk like a block of lead.

I woke up under the water, choking. I tried to pull myself out but my hands slipped.
Splash.
I slipped back under. ‘Help,’ I spluttered. I kept sinking under the water. I was choking and coughing. I thought I was going to die. I finally managed to get a grip on the handles and pulled myself so I was half hanging over the side. It was a frightening experience. I almost drowned in the bath.

I was still drunk but my heart was racing. I felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. I clambered out and crawled to the toilet where I was finally sick.

I felt my way to my mobile and called Michael. ‘I’ve almost drowned in the bath. Please come and get me,’ I cried.

‘I’ll get you when I’m ready to come back,’ he said. I fell asleep on the tiles in the bathroom after that and woke up with a whopping hangover.

I appeared on the Ultimo brochures for 2009 with Mel B. I had lost five stone in total and I was looking and feeling good. That year was also memorable because we launched our first range for younger girls, Miss Ultimo. It was to be funky, edgy, trendy and completely different to the look of Ultimo. It was a new brand with a completely new DNA that would not compete with Ultimo. I’ve always made sure that all the brands I’ve invented don’t compete with one another, be they Ultimo, Miss Ultimo, Ultimo swimwear, Ultimo shapewear, Michelle for George, Bra Queen Michelle, Michelle Innovations for Dunnes stores or Adore Moi for Debenhams.

Miss Ultimo was aimed at 14- to 18-year-olds and I wanted someone cool to launch and be the face of the new line. Peaches Geldof immediately popped into my head. Peaches had a lot of tattoos, including a daisy chain that ran from her knee to her chest. Personally, I don’t agree with tattoos. I don’t have one myself but I still thought that she was the coolest young girl about town. She was always being photographed out and about in London and I think a lot of girls her age liked her style. I wanted her for my brand.

I met Peaches at her manager’s office in London and I was completely blown away by her. She was a writer for a New York magazine and she was so intelligent. The conversations we used to have together were nothing like those I’d had with my other models – Peaches loved debating. She was quite something and very mature for her age, being only 20 at the time. We got on exceptionally well. Peaches respected where I’d come from and how I’d built my business up from nothing and I respected that she wasn’t just a daft little lassie. She was different from all the other teenagers I knew.

Her vulnerability came through on our first shoot. She clung on to her hair and make-up team, constantly asking for reassurance. ‘Are you sure I should wear it like that?’ she asked repeatedly. But I think anyone that age is vulnerable. I felt vulnerable at 20. You don’t really know who you are yet.

We did the shoot in a bowling alley to complement the edgy, fun look we were going for. She was very nervous to start with, not surprisingly as it was her first lingerie shoot. After the first hour behind the camera she relaxed. We signed her for a year, with an option to extend, and we launched Miss Ultimo in May 2009. It was a very successful campaign – the brand was hot. Peaches’ pictures appeared in trendy magazines that Ultimo would never get into.

I had something to celebrate myself not long after that. It was autumn 2009 and my PA got a call from Buckingham Palace. She came running across the office at rocket speed to speak to me. ‘What is it?’ I said, concerned.

‘There’s a woman from Buckingham Palace on the phone about an OBE for you,’ she panted, out of breath. ‘They say they’ve given it to you, but apparently you don’t want it,’ she went on.

‘What?’ She had my attention now. ‘Shut the fuck up!’ I spluttered. I burst out laughing. ‘They are having a laugh, this is a radio show doing a wind-up.’ I dismissed the call. ‘Look, there is no way I’ve got an OBE. Go tell the woman that we’ll phone her back because we don’t believe it’s true.’

I got back to work while my PA passed on my message. A few minutes later, she was back with the phone number for Buckingham Palace. ‘Okay, I’ll ring it,’ I sighed. Curiosity got the better of me. It bloody well was Buckingham Palace and I had been awarded an OBE. I nearly dropped the phone in shock. ‘We assumed you didn’t want to accept your OBE as we hadn’t heard anything back,’ said the very well-spoken lady. Apparently, they sent the invitation to my old house.

‘I haven’t been living at that address for several years,’ I explained. ‘I… I… I don’t know what to say.’

‘Well, do you want to accept it?’ she asked.

‘Oh, my god, of course I want to accept it,’ I screamed. It was a dream come true.

‘Thanks so much, tell the Queen I’m over the moon,’ I said.

I had to keep the award a secret until it was announced in the 2010 New Year’s Honours list. You can imagine it was really hard. I told my family straight away. ‘What, say that again?’ Mum and Dad said when I broke the news. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Their daughter had been awarded one of the highest honours in the UK. ‘Oh, my god, who would have ever thought?’ Mum squealed.

I was over the moon. It was amazing they gave it to me but there were many other people who had helped me. My family and all my team at Ultimo had worked so hard. Above all, it was proof that it is possible to achieve your dreams no matter where you are from. I wanted my OBE to be an inspiration for kids growing up. If I can do it, they can do it too.

The next thing I had to think about was – what was I going to wear? Well, I’ve been given it for the business that I’m in, so I should wear something that represents Ultimo. I know, I’ll design a corset, I thought. A very sophisticated, outerwear corset, mind. I wouldn’t dream of meeting the Queen in my underwear!

So I turned my hand to designing this beautiful black creation which had a lace detail at the top and panels that ran down the side to emphasise my curves. I also made a hat, delicately woven in leopard print – it had a wide brim and I finished it off with a scattering of pheasant feathers. It was beautiful. I complemented the outfit with fitted black trousers, a floor-length black velvet coat and, of course, black Louboutin heels. I had fun choosing the outfits for the kids and I helped Michael pick a suit.

We all travelled down to London together and I remember it being bitterly cold when we arrived at Buckingham Palace. We were ushered into one of the grand halls, which had gold-painted walls and a red carpet. I had butterflies as I watched everyone go up in turn to get their OBEs and MBEs. It was such a humbling moment to be around all these incredible people who had contributed so much in one way or another.

They called my name and my heart leapt out of my chest. I gave my kids a huge grin as I stood up and made my way down the red carpet to be handed my medal by Princess Anne. It didn’t seem real. I’d launched Ultimo in Selfridges just over ten years ago and now I was being honoured for my contribution to business, being one of the three most successful female entrepreneurs in the country and creating a company worth multi-millions and achieving over a billion pounds worth of press coverage.

I walked out of the Palace into a sea of press and photographers. ‘Michelle, just one more,’ the paps called out. ‘Over here, Michelle.’ The press wanted to interview me and take pictures of me holding the OBE before we could do the official family photo.

‘That’s it. We are not waiting any longer,’ Michael ordered. He said the kids were freezing and he’d had enough.

‘Hang on, I want an official picture with me and the kids and you,’ I pleaded.

The press photos were just a formality. The family picture meant the most to me, something I would be able keep on my mantelpiece forever.

‘No, let’s go,’ Michael said and walked off.

I was heartbroken. I’d never be able to get that moment back. We went on to Scott’s restaurant in Mayfair, one of my favourite restaurants, where Michael and I proceeded to have a massive row.

It was supposed to be this amazing celebration. I’d planned it to be the perfect day, but it was so not. We were sitting in this fancy restaurant but everyone was in a mood. Michael and I weren’t speaking and the kids were grumpy, thinking, Why are we here? Don’t get me wrong – receiving the OBE was incredible – but I went back to Glasgow, took my hat off and thought, I don’t know why I bothered. I swept my disappointment under the carpet as I had done so many times before and got on with doing what I’d been given an OBE for.

We’d done a second shoot with Peaches in a fairground but not long after those pictures came out, Peaches appeared in a different sort of photo shoot. I picked up the
News of the World
on a Sunday in March 2010 and said, ‘Jesus Christ!’ Splattered across the paper were topless pictures of Peaches with a large plaster covering her thigh, taken by some guy who claimed to have had a heroin-fuelled, one-night stand with her in the previous November.

I called an emergency meeting. ‘What are we going to do? This is a nightmare,’ I started. Peaches was promoting our brand to teenagers who looked up to her. To see her with needle marks everywhere wasn’t good for her image. ‘Why is she doing this?’ I shook my head in sadness. It was tragic. It was also very much out of the blue because I’d never sensed Peaches was into that kind of stuff and I hadn’t seen any marks on her body during our shoots.

At our directors’ meeting the next morning we discussed the number of emails from unhappy customers as a result of the story. The emails were saying things like, ‘You have a responsibility, Michelle, to get shot of this girl’ and ‘I don’t want my daughter looking at her thinking this behaviour is acceptable.’

And then came the emails from the big buyers who were taking Peaches’ pictures out of the stores. ‘We want to know what your position is,’ they demanded. I dropped my head into my hands. I felt under incredible pressure as well as deeply sorry for Peaches. Being a mum myself I felt so concerned for her future. When someone is down you should never boot them in the face. I’d been kicked many times by the press and I knew what it was like. I felt really, really bad but I had no choice but to terminate her contract.

I sent a letter to Peaches and to her management as well, saying: ‘I wish you all the best, but I have to do this, being a founder of this brand. I hope everything is fine and that we could remain friends.’

Her management were so nice with their response. They said: ‘Michelle, we understand and we really appreciate what you’ve done for Peaches.’

The media like to exaggerate things and say I sacked her but that wasn’t the case. There was no fall out – I was really concerned and worried about her. But at the end of the day I had to protect the brand and say that needle marks are not acceptable and heroin use is not acceptable because we have a responsibility to teenagers. The whole thing was deeply sad.