This is a small extract from our latest episode of Extremes: a VICE podcast exclusive to Spotify. You can listen to the full story hereBack in 1980, I was a 20-year-old model working in Paris. I was never a supermodel, but I spent a year there, slowly climbing the Parisian fame ladder. It was hard work but eventually I began appearing on magazine covers, which was a kind of reward, I suppose, although I didn’t feel any different than the way I had before. I didn’t feel fulfilled or satisfied. What I needed, I thought, was a relationship.
Advertisement
One day in late summer, my agent asked me to come with her to Monte Carlo for the weekend. Knowing there was always a catch in the modeling business, I asked her the cost of tickets and hotels. “No, no” she said. “This one is free!” I knew that sounded suspicious, but decided to go anyway because I was in need of a vacation. So along I went.
After arriving at the hotel, we spent a day poolside drinking fancy drinks, talking with new friends, and taking in the gorgeous view. That evening, my agent took me by limo to a pirate-themed party overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It was a big outdoor event with a bonfire and live gypsy music.I wasn’t long before I noticed an older man watching me. That might sound a bit pervy, but the man seemed safe for some reason. Then he came over to me and we started dancing on the sand. The bonfire roared and we threw our champagne glasses into the flames, along with a few wooden chairs. Then, when we sat down next to each other at the big party table, and he looked into my eyes and pushed my shirtsleeve up exposing my forearm and wrote “ I love you” in his own blood. Apparently, he’d cut himself smashing glasses. I had no idea who he was but I liked him a lot.For the full story, you can listen to the podcast by simply clicking "play" on the media player:Later, I learned the man was named Adnan Khashoggi, He was a Saudi arms dealer and one of the richest men in the world. He owned businesses, property, and mansions all over the globe and he was known for his luxurious toys—the world’s largest private plane and a yacht named The Nabila.
Advertisement
Now, you have to remember this was 1980 and the Internet didn’t yet exist. I couldn’t just Google him, so I went in blind and put the pieces together as I went along. And in the process I discovered that dating a billionaire wasn’t as amazing as you’d think. But I had to learn the following lessons to realise that:I saw Adnan the next day, and then a few weeks later he flew me to Spain where he asked me to become one of his wives. I gave him a very tentative yes, and that’s how I became a chess piece in his inner world.At first the wealth and excess felt new, strange, and intriguing. But over time, I began to expect it. One time in Kenya, Adnan tried to give me a huge 20-carat diamond ring. I refused his gift because it was too shocking and overwhelming. But over time, I saw other women wearing those kinds of excessive jewels and I began to want one too. Couture gowns had become my normal dinner attire. I ate delicious, healthy, chef-prepared food. I was ushered around in limos and private planes.Slowly, I began to crave this lifestyle even when I was away from Adnan. When I was at home in Los Angeles working as a model, I looked for excuses to go fine dining. None of my girlfriends could afford it, so I’d go with a male doctor friend of mine. I needed to wear couture and be fancy and eat by candlelight in dimmed dining rooms with white linen tablecloths, served by waiters in white uniforms. I got so sucked into it yet was completely unaware of what had happened to me. When I spent time with my close girlfriends, at times, I craved being my fancy self.
Money Makes You Weird
Advertisement
Extreme Wealth Means Never Being Satisfied
The Ultra Rich Are Surrounded By People Who Want Something
Advertisement