Casablancas: The Man Who Loved Women (2016) - full transcript

Ladies and gentlemen,
here's a man after my own heart.

He jumped into a new business,
taking on tough competitors.

All he had to start with was

his ambition, determination,
and an eye... for beautiful women.

Our next guest is known
as the man behind the models.

He is founder and president
of Elite Model Management

and represents such supermodels as Iman...

The man who
masterminds their careers.

He's the founder
of Elite Model Management...

I can't say I understand
this whole beauty thing,

but if ever there was man who did,
it would be my first guest.



He's a hunter, stalking big game,

in search of magnificent animals.

He's the hottest thing to hit
the modeling scene in years.

His name is synonymous with professional
modeling throughout the world.

It's my great pleasure to introduce
the president of Elite modeling,

Mr. John Casablancas.

I've been approached many times by people

wanting to tell my life story.

Good evening.

I've been discovering, developing,
and working with models

all over the world for almost 20 years.

So I'm always amused when someone says,

"Your job is easy.

You surround yourself
with beautiful women."



But there's more to it than that.

I wasn't really sure that the subject,
while amusing,

deserved so much attention.

My life seems at times full

and exciting,
or merely futile and superficial.

Was it successful
and filled with adventures?

He made Cindy Crawford,
Karen Mulder and Linda Evangelista.

Definitely. But does it add up
to something meaningful?

I really don't know.

Nothing I've done
changed the world,

but by God, have I had fun doing it!

You have the best job in the world.

- I do.
- Thanks for being here.

CASABLANCAS
THE MAN WHO LOVED WOMEN

I'm a Catalan
born by chance in New York.

My family's from Barcelona.

My grandfather,
Fernando Casablancas,

invented a machine
that would spin cotton into thread.

He was a respected industrialist.

When the Spanish civil war
began in July 1936,

my parents were on a beach,

on the Costa Brava,

with my oldest brother, Fernando.

As soon as they heard
about the coup,

they gathered their things,
jumped into the car,

and headed for France.

My family were now refugees,

like roving gypsies
with a taste for first class travel.

When Germany
started invading her neighbors,

my father decided it was time
to run away again,

across the Atlantic this time.

This is how in December 1942,

on a very snowy and cold day
in the suburbs of New York City,

I came into the world.

Shortly after my birth,
my mother contracted TB.

Doctors recommended a dry climate.

The family packed up once again,

and we moved
to a big house in Mexico City.

My first years were spent

going between New York and Mexico
by train.

We used to rent
an entire first-class carriage.

I would stare out of the window,
hoping to see cowboys

galloping on their horses
beside the train.

I have wonderful memories
of these journeys.

At the end of the 40s,

Europe had settled enough

for my homesick parents
to visit again the Old Continent.

Finally, we moved to Geneva.

Culturally, I have always thought
of myself as a Frenchman.

Actually, I have a Catalan soul,

a French mind,
and an American nationality.

After my eighth birthday,
doctors discovered I had anemia.

My parents decided to send me
to an exclusive boarding school,

called Le Rosey.

Le Rosey school is set

in a 16th-century castle,

surrounded by gardens,

and all sorts
of sports fields and equipment,

such as an Olympic-sized swimming pool,

among acres of forest by the lake,
on the side of the mountain.

From Christmas to Easter,

the entire school moved
to the huge chalets in Gstaad.

There, we were able to ski a few hours

every day between classes.

Le Rosey was protecting us

from the harsh reality
of the outside world.

We lived a simple life.

Our main concerns: girls and soccer.

As years went by, more and more girls
and a little less soccer.

These were some extremely happy years.

I lost my virginity at the age of 15

on a summer night in 1958, in Cannes,

on the French Riviera.

We spent summers
in the south of France.

I remember it as a magical time.

One day, as I was lying at the pool,

suntanning with my mom,

a man walked by staring at us.

His name was Albert.
He was an old, decadent playboy

that my mother knew from Buenos Aires

20 years earlier.

Two beautiful ladies
were accompanying Albert.

Twenty-seven, 28 years old,

a gorgeous Danish brunette and Désirée,

a beautiful Swedish blonde with blue eyes.

A few days later,
I was having an ice cream on the Croisette

when Désirée walked by.

"Hi, Johnny,
how are you?"

I was embarrassed.
I didn't have a penny on me

to offer her even a drink.

But I was also lucky.

A convertible 190 Mercedes drove by,

driven by my sister's friend.

"Johnny, jump in."

We jumped in the back together,
I put my arm around her,

and we started kissing.

Désirée asked me if I wanted to swim.

I said I didn't have a suit.

She started laughing.
"Me neither."

We took off our clothes and jumped in.

After a few moments,
we got out of the water

and made love.

The only thing preventing
us from being seen by tourists

wandering along the Croisette
was the darkness.

It was so exciting.

It was my first lesson in love,

and a fantastic lesson it was!

I started meeting her friends.

One was a beautiful German brunette,
called Margaret.

We also started having an affair.

She was very naughty,
and introduced me to more of her friends.

I discovered a group of young,
beautiful women

looking for a rich lover,
or even a husband.

In no time, I had quit going
to the beach and playing tennis.

I had gone from total virginity

to a dominating
but delicious appetite for sex.

I was a lucky boy.

Most of my friends
had awful first experiences

with hookers,
or ugly girls, in awful places,

at the end of long, drunken nights.

I had a first experience
which illuminated mine.

When summer ended,

I went back to school a changed man.

I was destined to fall in love

very passionately
and very regularly.

A new temptation was waiting for me.

The school had hired a new maid.

Her name was Priska.

Blue eyes, blonde, big breasts...

She was a doll.

I was out one afternoon
when I ran into her in town.

I invited her for a chocolate
and we started talking.

There was a strong sense
of excitement between us.

Sometime after I left the school,
my father showed up one morning

with a letter
from Le Rosey in his hand.

He was pale, shaking.

"You're disgusting.

You're a horrible human being.

You will never be able to talk
about your time at Le Rosey.

Your name doesn't exist there anymore."

I didn't understand what was happening.
What had I done?

He handed me the letter.

It started with a very simple sentence.

"Dear Sir,

Your son slept with the maid."

And then it got worse.

"Your son has betrayed our trust.

He has betrayed everyone here.

We don't want to know him anymore.

All letters of recommendation
are immediately suspended."

To be admitted
to a good American college,

to Harvard or Yale,
where I planned to study,

I needed these recommendation letters.

My fatal attraction for a beautiful woman

had changed dramatically
the course of my life.

I was utterly demoralized.

I decided to follow a road

taken by thousands
of disaffected young men before me.

I decided to join the US Marines.

I had seen many based in France

during my summers in Cannes.

These guys were well dressed,
had jobs on the land

and seemed to have great lives.

I went to the embassy
and discovered I had to pass a test.

The test was like nothing I'd seen before.

According to the man
representing the army and the embassy,

my results were so bad
that he wouldn't even register me.

He told me:

"These results show you to be stupid,

but in the medical sense
of the word."

While I was continuing my education,

my sister Sylvia

was turning into a high society celebrity.

She had met Karim Aga Khan IV,

heir of the Aga Khan dynasty.

Between Sylvia and Karim,
it was immediate passion.

They started dating

and it pushed my family
into the eye of the cyclone.

She became a kind of superstar,

always trailed by the paparazzi.

We were invited
to the Château de l'Horizon,

the residence of Ali Khan
on the French Riviera.

There was this boat called My Love.

We water skied
in the morning in the Bay of Cannes,

eat lobster with chives for lunch,

and in the afternoon,
tan by the swimming pool of the château,

a 30-meter slide
taking us directly into the sea.

I used to love it.

Through a friend from Le Rosey,
I got a job offer

as promotion and sales manager
for Coca-Cola in Brazil.

I couldn't resist this invitation
for new adventures.

Rio de Janeiro,
with its harbor like a fallen star,

its buildings white as salt cliffs,

and the curve of its beaches
with their names like songs:

Flamengo, Botafogo,

Copacabana.

I got there and was alone
in this faraway country.

I kept thinking about Marie-Christine,
my French girlfriend.

I invited her to come visit.
Her father didn't object,

but said if we liked each other so much,

maybe we should get married.

I thought it was a great idea, romantic!

I was only 22, and already a married man

living across the world.

...a young beauty
with a quicksilver laugh...

We spent four fantastic years in Brazil,

but I ended up resigning
and we eventually moved back to Paris.

It was spring in Paris.

March, maybe April, 1969.

Paris is delicious this time of year,

the cafe terraces invading the sidewalks

and the beautiful Parisian women

wearing short skirts and light dresses.

I was holding a camera,

but the real photographer
stood next to me.

His name was Gunnar Larsson.

He was surrounded, as always,
by beautiful women,

among whom,

was a girl who would become
a fundamental part of my life.

This picture is more than a memory.

It's a moment that was
the beginning of the rest of my life.

My first step

towards the business that would define me.

When I had returned
to Paris with Marie-Christine,

I started feeling the urge
of being single again.

I sincerely loved her,
but temptations were many.

I wasn't mature enough
to be in a monogamous relationship.

But an unexpected,
extraordinary event happened

before our complete split off.

Marie-Christine got pregnant

and gave birth to my daughter, Cécile.

I moved out
and left her the apartment.

It was 1968,
I was 25,

and everything was possible.

I moved into a small hotel
on rue d'Argout.

Almost every night this spectacular
tall blonde girl would come in

with a huge blonde Scandinavian guy.

One evening I looked at her,

she looked directly back at me,

and this routine
was repeated for several nights.

Finally, one day,
as I was coming back alone,

the doorman called me and said:

"Hey, Mr. Johnny, alone tonight?"

I answered: "Yeah.
There's a beautiful blonde in this hotel.

If she wasn't married to this guy..."

He started laughing.
"Oh no, she's a model.

He's a photographer and he rents rooms

that he uses as a studio."

I gave him a tip
in exchange for her room number

and I called her.

It was 2:30 in the morning,

she answered, and immediately knew
who she was talking to.

I invited her for a drink,
and she accepted.

It was a coup de foudre.

She was Jeanette Christiansen.

She would be my companion
for many years,

the first model I ever represented,
and the mother of my son, Julian.

The photographer was Gunnar Larsson.

He was the first person to tell me

that I was born to be a model agent.

One night,
as we were drinking at La Coupole,

he started drawing on my sleeve.

I said: "Stop it, Gunnar!"

"I'm not going to stop
until you agree to open your agency."

I ended up agreeing

and Elysées 3 was created.

We rented a small office

on 21 Avenue George V,

a very prestigious address
for a tiny start-up agency.

I had to find the courage

to ask my father to invest in my company.

He had considered me
a lost cause for a long time,

and now from his Catalonian
businessman point of view,

I was becoming the owner

of a glorified brothel in Paris.

It must have been
a real act of faith

that made him give me 100,000 dollars

that comprised
the initial capital of Elysées 3.

I started
with three bookers and 15 models,

mostly Scandinavian,

from Gunnar and Jeanette's
circle of friends.

The image of modeling was serious.

...the famous model Lisa Fonssagrives,

whose hourly rate
is often as high as 40 dollars.

Eileen Ford was the queen bee,
and had been for years.

It was a world dominated by women

and people who knew fashion.

And now me...

I was the outsider.
I was young, heterosexual,

dressed very casual.

I had to show
I was going to change things,

that I was an innovator.

One of my bookers was married
to the famous French cartoonist Bob Siné,

who was very hip then.

Together, we decided to create

an extreme communications campaign.

For ten days, 2 000 potential clients

received a card each day
with a question mark.

Over the following days,
we sent model cards created by Siné.

They looked like a French ID,

but Siné had improvised freely
in the descriptions.

The category "particular signs"
was quite spicy.

I was naive enough to think
that in the Paris fashion world

in 1969,

people were ready for something daring,

that it would be a success.
And it was.

Just a negative one.

Everyone talked about the agency,

but to make fun of it
or complain about it.

I was learning the business.

One day, as I was in Scandinavia
on a scouting trip,

my brother called me from Paris.

"Are you coming back soon?"

"In a couple of days."

"No need to rush,

when you come back,
you won't have an agency anymore."

My brother liked to tease,
but he was right.

I immediately came back without warning

and stood on the sidewalk
of Avenue George V.

Two bookers were sitting
in the café across the street,

waiting for the models.

"John doesn't have any money.

We should go to Models International.

They have money, connections, and power."

I was learning betrayal.

I walked into the agency and I said,

"Well, I'm now going to count to 60,

and if you're not out of here by then,

with all your belongings,

I'll start beating you all with this bat."

They all started running around
like chickens.

I was boiling with anger.

Then I called the models one by one.

"It's very simple.
If you leave now, I can't pay you.

But if you trust me and stay on,

I'll organize myself
and we'll pay everyone."

All of them except one stayed,

and I kept my promise.

But this experience taught me
what I wanted to become.

I wanted to be a trademark,

recognized and respected by others.

"Because models who are beginners

have very different needs
from well-known models,

I have decided to open
a new structure, "Elite,"

that will only represent
15 to 20 top models."

That was the essence my letter

to Eileen Ford in October 1971.

The Ford modeling agency in
New York is the biggest

and most powerful agency in the world.

Eileen Ford wasn't a competitor then.

She used to come
to Europe looking for talent

and we worked together.

Eileen Ford is known as "the Godmother."

She trusts no one
and personally scrutinizes

every hopeful
who climbs the stairs to Ford.

Rejection is part of her business day.

Her friends called her "Godmother"

but her enemies called her "Hitler."

She listened to me and said,

"John, you're a very nice young man,

well educated, from a good family,

but you don't fit into our landscape."

We started this new company

with Alain Kittler,
my old friend from Le Rosey,

and Giampiero Dotti,
an old friend who knew everyone.

The initial capital was 40 000 dollars.

I had 50 % of the shares
and each of my partners, 25 %.

The name "Elite" was one
of my first options,

because it was short, concise,

and is the same word in most languages.

The first thing I did,

was I took 10 000 dollars
and gave it to Malcolm Townsend,

a very creative
graphic designer in Zurich.

After a few days of reflection,

he came back to me
with his proposal for our logo:

a phallus and two testicles.

As the drawing evolved,

the testicles would become the "E,"

and the contractions of the letters "LIT"

took the shape of the phallus.

My logo was a phallic symbol.

I loved it.

I installed Elite
at 17 Rue Georges Bizet, in Paris,

on the fourth floor of a small building.

To start with,

Elite was only that: a logo,

a small office, Jeanette,

my partners,
one booker and myself.

We immediately had
an amazing list of models

for such a new and small agency.

No one could believe it.
Who, me?

John Casablancas,

a nobody with no money,
coming from a failure like Elysées 3.

How could I have gathered such a group?

This is the day they've been waiting for.

Being discovered by an agent
like John Casablancas

is the best shot they have
at entering the fast-paced,

big-bucks world of modeling.

There is no job security.

It's a little bit...
It's a free enterprise world.

If a girl is good
and she's got the talent,

and she's determined,
and she's a hard worker,

I think she can sleep very comfortably.

She's going to be regularly booked
and making a lot of money.

And then she's through at 26 or 27?

No, I'd say that she was through...

at age 30, 31 with modeling.

How many people
do you know who at 18

have a job they're going
to keep all their lives?

When a model is at the top
and she has everything,

you can't offer her
great bookings or money,

because she already has that.

So I decided to offer them

to be part of an exclusive agency.

We are a service company.

We are there to manage
the careers of these models.

And if we don't serve them properly,

it is a normal thing that a model can seek

that service elsewhere.

My approach during my scouting trips
was always the same:

we're daring, we're creative,

we're anti-establishment,

and it's a privilege
to be part of this group.

Know who this is?

It's me, Carol Alt,
before I began my modeling career.

You see me on television
and magazine covers,

but let me tell you,
getting started wasn't easy.

I'm glad John Casablancas was there.

It was our own models
who would do the promotion for us.

He's so wonderful.
Sort of a daddy figure.

He sort of looks like my dad
and he takes care of the girls.

I think he's the best.

We did a lot of promotion:
calendars, books, parties.

I always invited lots of people
from different groups.

Models would be dancing on the table,

and the press just loved it.

This is how we created
the T-shirt parties.

In 1975, I threw the first one

in the hip nightclub of Paris, L'Aventure,

on Avenue Victor Hugo.

We sent all guests a white T-shirt

with the Elite logo printed on it.

The models were told
to only wear the T-shirt.

The party was a huge success.

During these years,
the models were happy at Elite.

We got on well, they felt they were part
of something exciting.

On top of it, we used to demand
the highest fees on the market

and there's nothing
a model loves more than that.

One thing I had learned
from my failure with Elysées 3,

was if you can't sell
something for five francs,

then sell it for ten.

I was very lucky.

My personal life and my professional life
were merging perfectly.

I was completely in the spirit of the 70s,

when sex was free and life was joyful.

The only area where I never fitted in,
was the drugs.

I never liked drugs,
and it was lucky for me.

I had already four addictions:
cigarettes,

alcohol, women, and gambling.

The worst was gambling.
I was capable of gambling in one night

what I made in a year.

I spent most nights
at the Club de l'Aviation

on the Champs-Elysées.

I bet fortunes on baccara
and chemin de fer,

one of the most dangerous games
and my favorite.

One of these nights,
I felt my luck was high,

though I'd blown through
my first line of credit

of 100 000 dollars,

and I asked for a second one
of the same amount.

It was an absolute fortune for me,

and I lost everything again, scandalously.

I went out, sat in my car,

smoking a cigarette in the dark.

I had nothing in the bank,

and wasn't expecting any money
to come in any time soon.

I started thinking
of buying a plane ticket and leaving

for Thailand or Australia,
somewhere really far.

But I felt in my pocket
a 500 franc casino chip

and decided to go back in.

As soon as I stepped inside,
I saw a man

with piles of 5 000 franc chips
in front of him.

He was someone
who had regularly borrowed from me.

I went straight to him
and with a killer's face said:

"Today is payback day for you."

Before he could answer,

I took one of his 5 000 franc coins

and sat at another table to play.

But this time, I started winning,
game after game.

In no time, I went up all the way

to 400 000 dollars.

I picked up the money,

gave the 200 000 dollars
to the manager

and filled my pockets with the other half.

Then I went next door
and bought champagne for everyone.

Casablancas doesn't stay
cooped up in an office

counting all that money.

He loves to scour the country
in search of new faces

and he draws crowds wherever he goes.

At that point,
I concentrated on

developing what became
my real passion

and my trademark in the business:

scouting new talents.

I love most the excitement
of finding new talent.

That is something that drives me.

I'm a maniac about finding talent.

I think that it's...
so exciting to see a kid...

and to see her on the cover
of a major magazine a few months later.

It's a tremendous satisfaction to my ego

and my sense of fulfilment.

My opinion is the most important part
of an agency,

and has always been my main investment.

I spent a great part of the year
traveling the country

like a politician on campaign.

I worked with local contacts
with whom I would organize events

and also discreet informers.

In every new place,
I'd ask who are the playboys,

the guys with money
who go out with beautiful girls,

who are the club owners,
the youth magazine editors,

who owns the tanning salons,

who are the guys capable
of recognizing beautiful women.

I see sometimes in people
who don't necessarily

have obviously the right looks,
I see a personality.

I see something special,
a special quality.

Then he spotted another girl
with that special quality.

This is the type of beauty
we're looking for.

Fresh, she's natural.
She's young, 15, she's about...

5 foot eight right?

So, ah, she's got the right profile.

Eve was one more face
plucked from the crowd.

He told me, um, I should grow some,

and maybe lose some weight.

Beautiful face.
A little short,

but she makes me think
of a young Ava Gardner.

She's got this kind of
very beautiful classical beauty.

If she can grow, she'll be tremendous.

She's 5 foot 6 so she's barely there,
you know, but, um...

If she can gain an inch,
I think she'll be fantastic.

The hunt goes on and on,

rewarded with the capture
of an occasional prize.

It's a scene that will be repeated
in city after city.

I think it's a lot of fun.
I take it all with a lot of humor.

I have a good time doing what I do.
It's why I do it.

Elite's success was forcing us to grow.

The agency went up to 30 models.

We weren't
a little boutique anymore.

Becoming a group was unavoidable.

But to solidify this success,

my instinct was telling me
it was time for a bigger step.

We had to cross the Atlantic.

The first idea of what became
Elite New York

started at the SAM meetings,

which is the union representing
the French modeling agencies.

I proposed we should unite,

and have a collective agency
representing all French agencies

in the USA.

I even had a name for it:
the French Connection.

I loved the movie by that name,
released at the same time.

Of course nothing happened,
but I didn't drop the idea

and kept talking
with my friend François Lano

about creating
an agency just the two of us:

Elite and Paris Planning.

We had a few constructive meetings,
except for one thing:

a director that François had
who I didn't like.

His name was Gérald Marie.

He told people I was arrogant, fat,

old, kitsch, and covered in gold jewelry.

I spent the fall of 1976
with François Lano

secretly planning our American agency.

I started going a lot to New York.

Officially, these were trips for pleasure.

But really, I was looking for offices,

trying to understand the market,
and organizing things.

One morning, at 8 a.m.,

the phone rang.
"Hello, John. How are you?"

"Hi, Eileen. I'm fine."

"I wanted to be the first
to announce the news to you.

Your business with François Lano
in New York will not happen.

Your friend, Gérald Marie,
told me everything.

He also said not to worry,

he was going
to be faithful to us

and he didn't want to be part of this."

I went back to Paris, furious with Gérald.

I talked to my partners:

"Are we ready to go just as Elite
without other partners ?

Do we have enough money
to support the investments necessary,

considering there will be two years
without any income?"

They said ok.

I had a photographer friend,
Alan Walsh, spying for me.

He was the only one
who knew about my plan.

Alain gave me a list
of the 25 best bookers in New York City

and I interviewed them all in secret.

Monique Pillard caught
my attention immediately.

Who said it's difficult?
It's a breeze.

It's a 24-hour breeze...No.

She was the head booker at Ford.

My job, you know, is a difficult job

because it involves
a lot of stress sometimes.

But it's really not that difficult.
You really have to love it,

in order for you...

not to see it as difficult. I love it.

An extremely exuberant personality,
swore all the time,

but knew the business inside out.

Modeling, for a girl who's successful,

is making a lot of money, very fast.

Making a lot of money.

Traveling the world over.

Hi, Momo.

It's Carol. How are you?

I'm glad you called.
I've been trying to reach you.

I know, I haven't made it
up to see you yet.

You got a shoot
with Marc Hispard tomorrow in Paris.

I keep going back to Paris
every other two days.

That's the name of the game.

I don't know how we managed
to keep it secret for so long.

We prepared the first list of models,

mostly friends and ex-girlfriends
of mine from Paris.

I found offices on 58th Street:

half a floor, next to Bloomingdale's.
Perfect.

I closed the deal two hours
before flying to Paris

and called my architect.

On the plane, I realized that
Elite New York was now a reality.

It was time for me
to make a difficult decision:

moving to New York.

Unless you're a member
of the inner circle, you may not know

there's a high-powered war
going on in the fashion world.

It was provoked
by something called "body snatching,"

the snatching of some very beautiful
and highly paid bodies of models.

I'd like to introduce the man
who is called the snatcher.

John Casablancas,

the head of Elite Model Management.

Modeling agencies think of you
as some diabolical man

who's been doing terrible things.
What are you doing?

I'm just doing one of the thing

I think are popular in America,

which is competition.

In the beginning of March 1977,

the paperwork for the creation
of the agency was complete.

In April,
Monique Pillard and Jo Zagami,

the head of accounting,
resigned from Ford.

A month later, at the end of May,

we officially opened.

The Ford agency is suing you
for 7.5 million dollars

and Wilhelmina for 4 million.

They think you have violated some trust

by using your contacts with these models,

while you were working
in tandem with them.

In fact stealing
booking agents and the whole...

Are you some totally corrupt man who...

I'm sure you'd be surprised if I said yes.

In July 1977,

New York Magazine
wrote a title on its cover

that would represent Elite's opening
for years to come:

"Model Wars."

The article told the story
of Eileen Ford sending

bibles to Monique Pillard and Jo Zagami

in which she had underlined

Saint Mark's Gospel, 14:18,

where Jesus is talking to his disciples,

"One of you will have supper
with me tonight

and then go betray me."

One of the things
that you've been accused of,

you really are the man on the hot seat,

is that the reasons models join you,

I'll let you answer this, Beverly,
why you went to Johnny,

is that you don't have to pay him
as much of a fee as you would

with the Fords...

Well that really isn't the issue.

It was a business decision,
why I left Ford.

What were they doing wrong?

It wasn't a matter of them doing wrong,

it was that I can get
what I want from Elite.

I love the concept

of a small, personal agency

where I need the attention
for my particular business.

So it was a business decision,
nothing personal.

Then Ford sent us the immigration people

trying to deport me.

How could they have known I,

the little French-Spanish-Mexican playboy

with a name like Casablancas

was born an American,

a few miles from their country house?

What will you do
with all these lawsuits?

Win them.

Ford and Wilhelmina...you've done
what no one has been able to do.

They are now entirely united,

on one side, against you.

I'm glad to hear that you think so too.

All the other American agencies
joined forces with Ford against us,

and this war lasted two years.

It turned out to be the best publicity
we could ever dream of.

We became famous overnight

and many models suddenly wanted
to join our little boutique.

This was Eileen's and the other
American agencies' biggest mistake.

They hated us too much

and threatened us in such harsh ways,

that we ended up winning
the public's heart.

The first supermodel to sign with me
in New York was Christie Brinkley.

When I called
and asked her to join Elite, she said:

"Of course, yes.
You discovered me.

You've always treated me well,
you gave me money when I needed it.

Of course I'll come with you."

A scout of mine,
a photographer,

had discovered Christie
in a Paris post office,

when she was a student.

One day, I was walking down the street,

and I bumped right into this guy who said:
"Are you a model?"

And I said no.

He said: "Would you like to?"
I said no.

"But there's such good money in it,
you should really try it."

So I thought,
"Why not?"

As soon as I saw her,
I sent her to French Vogue

and her career started immediately.

A few months later,
I made the classic mistake

of presenting her to Eileen Ford
who took her back to New York,

and never paid me any commission.

Janice Dickinson is a woman
who spends her days

creating illusions,
but has few of her own.

Janice Dickinson was already a big star.

She was a fantastic model
and an outrageous person.

I see these girls coming in
with these wanting looks.

"I want to be a star,
I want to be like Janice Dickinson.

I want to be just like them."
They tell me:

What can I do?"
I say: "Don't do anything.

Go back to school,
get something up here."

Have something else going on.

If you just cling to the fact
that you want to be a model...

you can't do it.

Janice was dying to join Elite

but her boyfriend
was photographer Mike Reinhard,

a good friend of mine and a business man.

He explained to Janice and myself

that he didn't want her to leave Ford,

he knew Eileen would get
her revenge by doing everything

to stop him from getting the good models.

She's a realist about modeling
and plays it for what it's worth:

for her, that's close to a quarter
of a million dollars a year.

Janice started misbehaving.

She mistreated her bookers,
missed appointments,

kept complaining about Ford

so much that Eileen
kicked her out of the agency.

The next morning,
she of course signed with Elite.

We hear a lot
about the model wars in New York.

Christie Brinkley worked for Ford,

then for you, back at Ford...

How tough is the competition
between the two or three top agencies?

I think there's only one competition,
between Elite and Ford.

And, uh...

The two giants.

I think so, yes.
The added spice to it,

is the fact that Eileen detests me,

and I dislike her very thoroughly too.

Speak right up, Johnny, don't hold back.

So I think that adds

some extra pepper and salt to the matter

in a competitive business.

The big agencies
started losing their advantage.

They weren't losing regular models,

but rather their top models,

and it was making them really angry.

Good morning, welcome to Elite.

I'm Marita O'Connor,
director of new faces

and I'll be interviewing you today.

It's imperative that you be at least 5'7",

and no taller than 5'11"

and are age requirements are 15 to 22.

Thank you.

It was 1980.

Eileen was desperate.

She decided
to reconquer her territory

and went after the weak point
of each agency:

the ego of the bookers.

She had convinced two of mine

to leave and create
their own agency called Fame,

which she would finance.

Gossip started
that Elite was falling apart,

Casablancas was over.

There is no agency as good as Ford.

This monopoly is a dream passed.

She's really talking about the past.

Now it's totally changed
and she doesn't want to admit it.

Monique, meet Julie Wolfe.

Monique is the head of Elite.

She takes care of the top models.

- I just discovered Julie.
- You did?

She's got potential.

I think so too.

In reality,
our figures were better than ever,

but modeling is a business of image,

and I had to do something
to reverse this impression.

- Good luck.
- Thank you.

Monique and I decided
to throw a party for Patti Hansen.

A year before, in 1979,

Patti had met Keith Richards

at Studio 54.

They fell in love

and were to be married.

Do you take Patricia

to be your lawful wedded wife,

and to declare yourself
as her loving husband?

Yes, I do.

Both of them
were wild and crazy party animals

made for each other.

At the same time,
Patti decided to quit modeling.

She didn't care
about her career.

I do.

You may kiss the bride
and slip the rings on.

We called her
and said that we wanted to represent her.

"I don't want to work anymore."

"I know,
but I still want Elite to represent you."

"Well, I'm not sure."

"I'm going to throw a party
for you at Studio 54."

That's all she wanted to hear.

No business, just the fun part.

Patti Hansen, model of the moment,

girlfriend of Keith Richards,
was with Elite.

New York stopped.

All the other losses
didn't matter anymore.

I was coming out as the winner.

When I first arrived in New York,

my example came from the Hollywood
studio system from the 40s:

the studio
would build a star from A to Z,

and control everything, her look,

personal life, public appearance,

the press, how she talked.

The public...

recognizes models
when they're not models anymore.

I started seeing something,

what was lacking with those models
was public recognition.

People knew what the face
of a model looked like,

"I love that Revlon model,"
but they didn't know their names.

Little by little, the idea that

if a model became a celebrity,

her value would be bigger,
became obvious to me.

And so that became the credo of Elite:

which was that we had to build a mystique,
invent a story.

The story could not be invented,
it had to correspond to reality.

There were exceptions,

like Iman being found in the bush.

I would like to clear up the Iman mystery,

because I have heard...
You all have.

First I heard they found you
in a bush in Africa.

That you had no clothes on,
no shoes, nothing,

that someone discovered you.

Then I heard she was born
to the royal family,

that her father was the king of...

some African country.
What is the truth?

It's still a mystery.

When in fact,

she's the daughter of an ambassador,
she's a sophisticated woman.

For most of the girls,

it was more telling
the story of who they were.

Much better.

OK, I'm ready.

I discovered Paulina Porizkova

in Sweden,
through a local modeling school.

She was a Czechoslovakian.

Her parents had run away
during Prague Spring.

A beautiful woman with a beautiful story,

the best combination to make a star.

Everyone has an interesting story.

You just have to know how to tell it.

This one is really sexy,
she's a mad little model.

This other one is, like, very elegant,

and she's like a princess.

Each girl had this image.

We tried to make her
make decisions in her private life

that corresponded to that.

This cult of personality

became the main element in our strategy.

It also catered

to the models' weakest point,

their ego.

They loved to become celebrities.

Alright, I'm bored.

Well if it isn't
the famous John Casablancas,

star-maker extraordinaire,

the prince
with one glass slipper and 37 Cinderellas.

Good, that's our job.

We have to keep you hot.

I started a publicity campaign

in which I was the main product.

Today on AM,

top modeling agent John Casablancas
explains how you can break into modeling.

I was always mixing
my personal life with business,

I was partying everywhere.

Private parties at my place,

in rented places, in nightclubs.

They all had one thing in common:

a high level of adrenaline and sex appeal

that I brought from Europe,
where the spirit was much more liberal.

This is a disco called Xenon,
in Manhattan

we've all seen it before.

But on Wednesday night,
hot and steamy,

there was a T-shirt party.

Some of the world's most beautiful women

went dancing out on that floor.

We threw our first
T-shirt party in New York

where people
had to wear our T-shirts to get in.

The Xenon was totally mobbed.

They're not paid for their brains,

but for their looks.

For some, those looks pay off to the tune

of a half million dollars a year.

It's not because they're young
that they're working,

it's because they're incredible looking.

There was a huge line outside
of people waiting to get in.

I decided to serve champagne
to everyone outside.

But in New York,

it is forbidden to drink
alcoholic beverages in public.

The American politically correct thing.

So I rented an ice cream truck

and created this wonderful scene
with this crowd,

wearing our shirts,

eating ice cream
in the middle of Manhattan.

I'm sure Prince Charles
had a splendid time at the ballet.

He should have been here.

Within months, the whole business changed.

Rates were skyrocketing,

models came to us because we were
transforming them into celebrities.

We were using sensuality,

sexual freedom, tolerance,

the opposite of conservative America

and much more in concert

with the desires
of the young photographers and clients.

The model agent had an image,
you know, like a mama image.

Some of my competitors want to pretend

they are like fathers and mothers

to their 375 models.

How many children can you have?

We've brought...

a little more relaxed approach to things,
and we call a spade a spade.

The relation we have
is a business relation.

They're making
a lot of money for both of us,

so the basis
of our relationship is business.

Of course there can be other things,
friendship...

There are different ways
to conduct business.

I think what marks the main difference
in our way,

is it's modern.

We are, I think, the agency today.

It was some of my competitors yesterday.

Yours is today.

I think it's today.
Maybe it'll be someone else tomorrow.

America was coming out of the recession,

and the mood was high.

Fashion is a reflection

of a given time. It's really a...

the product of everything that's going on.

If a film is successful,

or a musician is successful,
or an event that happens,

the first lady in a country
is very beautiful,

those events affect the looks.

We're going through a relatively
calm period, in terms of major events.

There's a lot of things
happening all the time, but nothing major.

The economy is not crashing
or going very well,

there aren't any major wars,
there's no...

no major crisis. So therefore,

it's more the living trends that are...

that are influencing fashion,

meaning...good health.

My main role was to have a global vision
and look for opportunities.

Two of these
became fundamental to our growth:

Casablancas modeling school...

Reaching the right people is key.

I've created a place where your talent
can easily be uncovered.

...and The Look of the Year.

The Look of the Year,

an internationally televised contest

finds the most beautiful girls
in the world

and starts them on careers
as superstar models.

John ?

How did you create Look of the Year ?

It just hit you?

No, it's an idea I had

a long time ago
that took three or four years.

But I think I finally made it a reality.

First meeting

is for everyone
to get a little bit into the competition.

This is a contest

for the fun of it, the beauty.

Those of you

that are going to be top models

are going to be top models

whether they are number one or number 70.

Because we, the judges, we make mistakes,

and also because some of you change.

Some of you today

might not be ready to win the contest,

but you might be ready in one year,
or two years.

Our first event took place in 1983

in Acapulco.

The girls made a splash at La Quebrada,

Acapulco's most famous spot

where small men
of great courage dive 38 meters,

well over 100 feet,
into the turbulent Pacific.

Some of their careers
must be shorter than a model's.

While the girls sightsee
and prepare for the final,

John Casablancas
is interviewed on television

and discusses the Elite agency
and The Look of the Year pageant.

The first contest
ended up being wonderful.

Acapulco was the ideal scenario.

Among the five finalists that year,

were Cindy Crawford and Stephanie Seymour.

My name is Cindy Crawford,
from Chicago.

I'm Stephanie Seymour
and I come from San Diego.

My partners had always been
against our contests.

They saw it as wasted time and money.

They didn't realize
the positive repercussions

for our image and our scouting efforts.

...from Brazil.

Jeanette had moved to New York

and I lived a married life,

even if sometimes I fell into temptation.

In August 1978,

becoming Julian's father was amazing.

His presence brought
peace and happiness into our world.

I decided to marry Jeanette.

There was this huge contradiction
between my marital

and my professional lives.

I had a life Monday through Friday,

and a different one
on weekends and holidays.

When Julian was six,

Jeanette and I separated

because of my affair
with Stephanie Seymour.

She was 16, and I was 42.

Of all the women I've met in my life,

she was the only one
that really broke my heart.

The passion I felt was probably because

in a life which I had been
so much in control of,

I knew I lost control there,
I knew I was headed into trouble.

Stephanie's got fire.

Nothing in particular
goes through my mind.

I just...

feel whatever I'm doing,

feel the elements,
whether it's the wind, the sun,

the ocean...

Think of things that make me happy

or make me feel good inside.

Our affair lasted two years only,

but it left me dizzy.

And my punishment was exemplar.

For Christmas Eve,

Stephanie went to San Diego
to her parents' house.

She was going
to catch a plane for New York,

together we were to fly to Saint-Bart's.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

"Hi, it's Stephanie.

John, I talked to my dad.

He thinks I should be honest
with you and myself

and face the truth.

I really do need to be free

and live life as a single girl."

My heart sank.

We broke it off,
saying farewell as friends.

I started getting dressed automatically

thinking about the irony of the situation.

In the morning,
I decided to go to Saint-Bart's alone.

The joke began on the plane.

The entire first class knew us.
"And where is Stephanie?"

"She stayed with her parents."

When I arrived,

the house was composed of three beautiful
bungalows on the beach.

It was a place for a honeymoon.

I decided that
at least I was going to get a tan,

when I suddenly felt
a slight pain in my mouth.

With the heat, it got worse
and started to really bother me.

I needed company.

I called my friend Patrick Demarchelier
who was also on holiday,

at his house in Saint-Bart's.
But he said:

"My wife has invited
Jeanette and Julian for a few days.

You can't come."

Fate had decided I was going to be alone.

When I woke up early the next day,

I decided to have a swim at the private
beach in front of the hotel.

To get to the water,
I had to cross rocks.

I slipped and badly sprained my ankle.

I ended up being carried
by two lifeguards back to the hotel.

I arrived in New York on crutches.

I had a toothache, I had no money,

and I was feeling very lonely
and very pathetic.

I think that if you ask any man,

if he had the opportunity of living

a love story like the one
I lived with Stephanie,

I don't think one out of a thousand

would say no.

But in reality,

if I look back,
my destiny was sealed

during a summer afternoon
in Ibiza in 1985.

For a while already,

Monique and Alain were telling me

that we needed someone strong
to run the agency in Paris.

I did agree,
but when they told me

the only person who had ever directed
an agency in Paris

and wasn't its owner, was Gérald Marie,

I almost had a stroke.

Over my dead body.

They kept insisting
that I should talk to him,

that he wasn't that bad, he had changed.

Gérald was the director of Paris Planning,
our most serious competitor.

He was an excellent booker

and had a clear understanding
of the fashion world.

Finally, I agreed to consider the idea.

On my next trip to Paris, we had breakfast

and there began our business relationship.

The president of Elite Europe
coordinates the efforts

of the Elite offices on the continent,
Mr Gérald Marie.

Actually, it was a good business decision.

Gérald was everything
I expected him to be as a director.

The Paris agency stopped having issues,

and started developing
its own personality.

When you meet beautiful girls
all day long,

some pop out
because they have something else to say

or something else
is happening in their eyes,

or their way of expressing themselves.

Just to meet somebody,
you fall in love.

You can do better than that.

Tell them I'm wonderful.

His relationship
with the models was good,

especially as he was married
to Linda Evangelista.

She was adding a touch of glamor
to the Paris agency.

What was the first job which you made?
First job?

It's small or what...but first.
It was?

I did, um...

a department store back home

for 8 dollars an hour,

in a city about an hour away.

My mom would have to take the day off

to bring me there for two hours.

But I used to do those.

Linda Evangelista was discovered
in Niagara Falls in Canada

by my scout, Ron Keneske.

I was in a Miss Teen Niagara
beauty contest

and I lost.

I didn't even place.

At the time, a scout from Elite was there.

He gave me his card.
I was 16 at the time.

We called him up three years later,

and he sent pictures to New York
and John called me.

She was fantastic
when I met her in Toronto

and she ended up working in Paris with us.

As amazing as it seems,

when he was still at Paris Planning,

Gérald stole the girl.

My name's Lizzy, from Australia.

Linda, what kind of attitude
do you think a model should have

to get to the top?

I don't think you should have attitude.

You know, it's...

I always think it's more luck or...

What you need to make it to the top,

is to have either a big magazine

fall in love with you, or a photographer
who really wants to shoot you,

and from there, it's like a snowball.

That's how I think it works,
because then everyone else goes:

"This big photographer used this girl,"

and suddenly
you become a hot thing to shoot.

I thought it was very funny
that by accepting Gérald Marie,

I was also recovering Linda Evangelista.

Maybe it was a bonus
for making a deal with the devil.

From the beginning
of our collaboration in 1986,

my relationship with Gérald
was strange and two-faced:

our partnership was excellent

but there was latent animosity
between us; we were water and oil.

We didn't like each other,
but we worked well together.

Each judge expressed his or her opinion.

...with a possible finalist.

You said she was the best
and I said, yeah.

We were making money,
we had success,

the only times we had to meet,

were the international finals
of the Elite Model Look,

some work meetings,
the company's annual general meeting,

and summer vacations in Ibiza,
where we were neighbors.

Elite is the largest international
modeling agency in the world,

with 11 branches

and more than ten affiliated agencies
on four continents,

and over 100 John Casablancas
modeling and career centers,

a network of franchised modeling schools.

At the beginning of the 90s,
we were at our peak,

billing over 100 million dollars per year.

Every night I would sleep

knowing that we were number one.

We had accomplished

what no corporation had ever done
in our industry.

Meanwhile, I had to continue dealing
with the egos of my super divas,

Naomi Campbell wasn't the least of them.

Naomi is a spectacular woman.

Explosive, intelligent, and talented,

but with an uncontrollable temper.

They see you in person and they think
of what you do in a magazine,

they expect you to act differently,
to act like

a superstar.

Super model, super bitch.
That was her reputation.

Don't film me.

There's only one Naomi Campbell...

We had hundreds of fights with Naomi.

She was amazing
when she made it to the studio,

but she would arrive late
or cancel at the last minute.

Naomi came along at a fascinating moment.

Some very canny modeling agents
and photographers realized

that they could take over fashion

and so the models became the stars.

In 1993,

my booking director showed up
in my office crying.

She couldn't take it anymore.

An important client was really furious.

Naomi used to threaten every day
to leave the agency.

I took a decision that made history:

not only did I fire her,
I also sent a telegram

to all our clients
before she could turn around

and say she was the one who had left us.

"Please be informed

that we do not wish to represent
Miss Naomi Campbell any longer.

No amount of money

or prestige

could further justify the abuse
that has been imposed

on our staff and clients.

All who have experienced this
will understand."

The media loved it.

Only two years later,
she was back with us.

I must admit that I adore Naomi.

You weren't going to give me one
were you?

- That's why I ordered two.
- You did?

I'm going to have one here.

- Thank you very much.
- What do you think?

I'd rather be her friend
than her agent.

What is the ideal...
When you're out there modeling

and you're discovered,

and you get on the cover of what,
do you think you've made it?

I think Cosmo.

- Cosmo ?
- Cosmo, in America.

- Jill?
- I'd say Cosmo.

It could be Cosmo, Vogue...

Any cover that's going to be seen.

I'd like to say one thing.

It's the cover they don't have.

Cindy heralded a new era for models.

It's beautiful.

Cindy was the first
to pose naked for Playboy

without sacrificing any prestige
as a top model.

On the contrary,
she gained the heart of a wider public.

Then there are diehard fans.
One guy drove 30 hours

when I was in Dallas,

for an autograph. It's sweet.

Cindy was very loyal to the agency,
but also very demanding.

Working together,
we produced a first calendar.

We signed a contract
with MTV for Cindy's own show,

House of Style.

I have a show on MTV called
House of Style.

We show what's hip and happening in style,
but also

what rappers are wearing
and what heavy metal is wearing,

and we sort of incorporate style

with the music industry.

I'm shooting my show tonight
and I presented two awards.

Do I have a tattoo?

I would never have one because the ones
I like are around the ankle

but when you're 50 and you're standing up
at your daughter's wedding,

it's a bit sad.

She made her workout videos

and signed a record-breaking contract
with Revlon.

With Cindy,
we made major changes to the business.

But after 14 years
of successful collaboration,

she didn't want
to pay our commission anymore

and left for William Morris,
a theatrical agency.

In 1992,

my business was doing better than ever,

and all my material desires
were satisfied.

But my love life was pathetic.

I was in a very difficult,
empty time of my life,

emotionally.

I found once,
the woman who was the right woman,

which was my wife Jeanette.

And our marriage did not resist

some of the difficulties of being married.

I travel seven or eight months a year,
and so on.

Do you regret that that didn't last?

In a way, yes.

I think the companionship
a stable relationship gives you

is fantastic. On the other hand,

the excitement and the...

freedom of not having a commitment

is also something which is...
which is interesting.

So you put things on balance.

I think the people who have one
keep missing the other.

And certainly,

in my older age,
I will definitely miss the companionship.

I'm sure there's going to be
lots of times later on

where I will be sorry
that I wasn't a little more careful

in keeping the relationship.

I was becoming a caricature of myself.

I was resigned to a future
of inconsequent affairs,

when I arrived in Brazil
for the Elite contest at Club Med.

Aline Wermelinger
was one of the contestants.

I found her pretty.

Aline won the contest

and qualified for the final in New York.

During the bathing suit phase,

where there's no production at all
and you see the model's real potential,

Aline showed up with her baby face
and green eyes

and her spectacular body.

She was standing in front of us,
innocent and pure

and said that she liked to play the piano.

Patrick asked her to play something.

Very calmly, she turned round,

she walked to a piano in the corner

and played
"Tico-Tico no Fubá,"

a Brazilian song. Everyone was enchanted.

We started dating even if I thought:

"What a ridiculous thing.

You are 32 years older than her.

She lives in Brazil, she's serious,

and you're nothing but a fool."

We kept dating anyway,

and in February 1993,

Aline and I got married
right after the Carnival.

The Brazilian press treated us
with lots of affection.

On the other hand,

the American magazines described it

with the usual cynicism and sarcasm.

Do you guys recognize that girl
with John Casablancas ?

She was in last year's contest,
but she lost.

But she became Mrs Casablancas,
so sometimes losers are winners.

This is for John:

How well protected
was your young model wife

when you started a relationship?

I'd be lying...
Go on, go ahead.

John Casablancas is the head
of the Elite modeling agency

and married his now wife
when she was 17. John?

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't prepared
for this question.

I don't have a very good answer.
First, she's not a model.

She's a piano student.

Someone else put her
in the contest in Brazil, where we met.

She stopped modeling
and we started dating after.

Secondly, she comes from a country,
and I do too,

where there isn't this fixation with age,

where difference of age
in marriage is common

in Brazil or in Europe.

I think the best answer
was given to me yesterday

by 2 or 3 girls who did the show.

I was nervous because I was sure

someone's going to ask that personal,
difficult question.

They said:
"Just tell them to meet your wife."

She's lovely, I fell in love with her,
it's not your business.

The late 90s

marked the beginning of the era
of dispensable models,

which was the opposite
of what Elite promoted.

For me, beauty is something eternal.

There is no such thing as a beauty
for a certain period.

The models I wanted
to work with had long careers

beyond trends.

Elite is all about elitism and superstars.

This is the great difference.
When we choose a girl,

she's got to have style and beauty,

personality within great looks.

When you start choosing a girl
because she has the look of the moment,

you already know she's going to last only
for that moment.

That's what happened
in the 90s

and that's what many
agencies do nowadays:

adapting themselves

to the demands of stylists or advertisers.

The result is a legion of clone girls

who become obsolete as soon as
the next look becomes fashionable.

I was furious.

I wrote an open letter
to all the agencies.

"I would like to congratulate
my colleagues

for doing such a good job
that all our rates are dropping.

We're destroying the supermodel myth

and transforming our profession
into a business

where financial success
will be completely impossible."

In truth, our cohesion

and Elite's unique voice

had been sustained all these years

thanks to a handshake between my friend,
Alain Kittler, and myself,

agreeing that we would always make
our decisions by consensus.

And this was maintained for over 25 years.

Early in 1999,

tired after almost 30 years of struggling,

I informed my partners
of my wish to retire.

This was going to be my last active year
in our company.

In November of the same year,
the BBC aired

a sadly famous documentary

by the investigative reporter
Donal MacIntyre...

The Passionate Eye
goes undercover to expose

the sordid,
ugly side of the fashion business.

...describing the modeling agencies
in general,

and Elite in particular,

as an environment of sexual abuse,

drugs, and prostitution.

I'm Donal MacIntyre.
I'm a BBC reporter

traveling between the fashion capitals
of London,

Paris and Milan.

I've been using two cameras:

one to take pictures on the catwalk

and a secret camera to film off it.

I was with my family
in Miami Beach

and I get this phone call.

My partner says,
"This friend that Gérald had

who was supposed to be the heir
of the Reuter family?

In fact, he was an undercover journalist

and he followed Gérald
throughout the world."

I knew Gérald,
so I was terrified when I heard.

The show was being aired in England only,
on BBC.

I looked at this thing
and I had tears in my eyes,

I was so ashamed,

I was so disgusted.

To my surprise,
he does agree to meet for lunch.

It's slowly dawning on me
just how powerful he is.

I now know he's Elite's number two
in the world

and that the agency's annual turnover
of 100 million dollars

makes it the richest.

I called my partners in Paris and said,
I want this asshole's resignation now.

First they all agreed that yes,
he has to go.

But then they hired a PR firm,

started saying he'd been trapped,

that there had been a large amount
of editing, which was true.

It's a disgusting piece of journalism.

But it's there and...

We have to assume responsibility

for those things said by some Elite people

who embarrassed us.

This MacIntyre was a real bastard,

he did something like 250 cuts
into his video,

so he basically,

could have Gérald say whatever he wanted.

European press is reporting
all three will sue the BBC Network

for defamation.

What we've learned here is that privacy
doesn't exist anymore

and that people
are not allowed to be silly

at three o'clock in the morning
in a nightclub or at home.

The Elite agency was treated very wrongly.

Many years ago,

we had made a deal

that we would only sell
our Elite ownership as a block.

No partner could sell them separately,

especially not me, as the main shareholder

and spokesperson for the company.

But our relationship was so worn out
after this fiasco,

they accepted my demand
of leaving immediately

and selling my shares to a Swiss investor.

I was out.

It was an unexpected profession,

accidental and wonderful.

It was a profession that allowed me
to hold in my arms

a number of women
of such incredible beauty

that most men
could not even dare to dream it.

Looking back at my 30-years-plus career,

if I had to choose one single moment
of absolute beauty,

it would be summer collections in Rome,
during the 80s.

The winter season took place in July.

There wasn't a more beautiful place

than the Eternal City
during those two weeks in summer.

♪ Don't think sorry's easily said...♪

I don't think that
at any other point in the world

there existed a place with more
beautiful women per square meter.

We had a rule: whenever we saw a fountain,

we had to jump in.

And to see all these gorgeous women

in the street,
their wet clothes stuck to their bodies,

was a spectacle no one could forget.

♪ I've heard the accusation before ♪

I've had a fantastic life.

A life of ups and downs,

of exciting moments and depressing ones.

And I've been very lucky.

Lucky because the mediocrity
of the business

and of my competitors

made me look like a genius.

♪ Can't you see I'm trying ♪

♪ I don't even like it ♪

♪ I just want to get to your apartment ♪

♪ I'm staying here just for a while ♪

I used to look
at the fashion American magazines,

and in them,

you see models that modeled clothes.

Now you see more the model

than the clothes.

Scantily clad young ladies.

What's happening, John?

I don't create the magazines.

I think fashion is a reflection
of society at a given time,

and that society tends
to be taking some of its clothes off.

You're in an enviable position.

Are the more beautiful women
in America or in Europe?

I don't think there's a place
with a monopoly on beauty...

Where do you seem to find
the most beautiful women?

- In America.
- Yeah.