Recently, I’ve been reflecting on something Ms. Ross said to me that time in London. I had sold tens of millions of records, and I was rolling deep, with a big team—makeup artist, hairstylist, wardrobe stylist, publicist, manager, and various assistants. As she was flawlessly putting on her own makeup (she went to beauty school too!), she said, “Mariah, someday, you’re not gonna want to have all these people around you.”
I believe that “someday” is not far away.
One final “diva” moment. For the 1998 MTV VMAs, Whitney and I were opening the show and presenting the Best Male Video award. It was supposed to be a whole staged “Clash of the Divas” stunt where we would enter from opposite sides of the stage and meet in the middle, only to discover we had on the same dress—a chocolate Vera Wang slip-style gown. We did some cute banter: “Nice dress,” and “They told me it was a one of a kind.” Then I said something like, “It’s a good thing I come prepared,” and reached behind me to detach the long skirt portion of the dress, revealing an asymmetrical mini as I declared, “Try it on me!”
Then Whitney said, “I can do better” and also ripped away the long piece of her dress, showing a new and different shape. We had a great laugh about it, but the gag is the moment that almost didn’t happen. When I showed up at the venue, my dress had not arrived. Because the whole opening revolved around the dresses, it wasn’t like I or anyone could just whip out a replacement. There was a panic! Apparently the dress was still at the showroom, and so production arranged for a police escort for the dress, clearing the streets to get it up to the theater on time.
That day, the police saved my one-of-a-kind-dress moment. If only someone could have saved our once-in-a-lifetime Whitney Houston.
A LITTLE BIT ABOUT A FEW GOOD MEN-Karl-
Karl Lagerfeld was always very nice to me, which was not the case with some of the more hauty haute-couture houses. We did a fashion shoot together for America magazine—which was a new “luxury urban” publication launched in the early 2000s, when the words “luxury” and “urban” were not common neighbors. The magazine and Karl were willing to go to a newer, fresher visual place with me. Karl produced and photographed the cover shoot. He captured me in both an intimate and a very glamorous light, giving you a little Marilyn-Monroe-by-Eve-Arnold vibe. They are, to this day, some of my most cherished portraits. Karl also photographed my “V Belong Together” V Magazine cover during the launch of The Emancipation of Mimi. The giant V logo was designed with the pattern from my Dior diamond bracelet—absolute perfection (Love Stephen Gan).
Once, Karl made me a very special couture dress for a big event. It was just beautiful—black satin with a deep V in the back. I wore it with my hair parted down the middle, slicked back (I very rarely wear it this way) and held with an ornament. It was giving a very classic high-fashion look. Because the dress was made of silk satin, though, which can be reflective, it requires proper lighting (in my opinion, every situation really does). I looked heavier in most of the photos as I featured the details in the back. The flashes made my ass look huge. Keep in mind, these were the days before ample booties—faux or authentic—were accepted or celebrated in the mainstream. Back then I wasn’t allowed to have an ass.
The traditional press was very “Oh. My. God. Becky, look at her butt!” It was beyond frustrating. I was in this gorgeous dress, serving a classic couture look, and the press had to criticize my butt and foil the moment. I wasn’t that far removed from the time when I couldn’t afford actual food and so I had no curves to attack. Mercifully, my then hairdresser Lou Obligini took the picture of me in the dress, sitting with my friend Rachel, and superimposed Marilyn Monroe on the other side of me, altering my original bad feelings about being photographed looking curvy—and illustrating how creativity and vision can change perceptions, people, and points of view. That little black dress had a big impact, as did Mr. Karl Lagerfeld himself, both one of a kind to me.-Mandela-
When Oprah invites you to go to South Africa, you drop everything and go. (When Oprah invites you anywhere, you go, but this was super major.) It was something pretty extraordinary even for her—the opening of her Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy for Girls. It was a once-in-a-lifetime privilege to be among the few people she invited (including Tina Turner, Sidney Poitier, Mary J. Blige, and Spike Lee), and then I was one of the even fewer people she selected to personally meet the phenomenal transformational figure Nelson Mandela.
I was brought into a small, simple, elegant room where Mr. Mandela was sitting in a lone gray wingback chair in one of his signature patterned shirts. He looked like a king. He looked like a father. I was with him for just a moment, but what an incredible, powerful moment. I leaned down to hug him, and in that brief embrace I felt the energy of ancient ancestry and of the future, of struggles and sacrifice, of unshakable faith and vision—of revolutionary love. Mr. Mandela smiled at me, and in an instant I felt my very constitution change.-Ali-
Muhammad Ali was turning sixty
