Everyone has their own coming-to-New York story, but some are more fabulous than others. For this week’s cover story, New York magazine rounded up iconic city dwellers from Rufus Wainwright to James Franco, Maggie Gyllenhaal to Jann Wenner to talk about their experiences of picking up and moving to the Big Apple. And of course, there are a few models in the mix, including Agyness Deyn, Naomi Campbell, and Lauren Hutton. Agyness shares how she found Trash and Vaudeville, making it her hangout spot, while Naomi discusses her loft on Centre Street with roommate Christy Turlington, and Lauren tells the magazine she really only came to New York as a stopover on her way to Africa, but ended up crying in a phone booth and telling her cab driver to take her to Tiffany’s.
Agyness Deyn
Arrived: 2006
The only people I knew when I arrived were the band the 5 O’Clock Heroes. They took me under their wing and got me a room with one of their mates. It was an office on West 10th Street. I don’t know what they did there; I would come in and they were all at computers, on the phone. I just would run in and sleep. I loved how fresh New York was. I felt like I was the star of my own film. One day, I came across Trash and Vaudeville and tried on some jeans. The guy at the checkout counter, Jimmy, looked like Iggy Pop, all rock and roll in his leather pants and long scraggy blond hair. He looked at me and went, “No, no, no,” and got me the smallest-size jeans in the store. “The tighter the better, darling.” After that, I would go into Trash and Vaudeville whenever I was at a loose end or feeling lonely. I’d sit there and chat with Jimmy, and he’d tell me old stories of New York.
Naomi Campbell
Arrived: 1986
At 16 years old, I was summoned by Anna Wintour to work for American Vogue and was put on the British Airways Concorde. As we were leaving the airport I told the driver, “I want to go on the Graffiti Train.” I had seen The Warriors. All I’d ever seen of New York was the movies.
Christy Turlington and I were roommates in a loft on Centre Street. I remember the boat houses, the dances, watching the House of Extravaganza in clubs or on the West Side Highway, near where I used to shoot. And I especially loved the people beating drums in Central Park.
Lauren Hutton
Arrived: 1964
I came to New York for two things: to get to Africa and to find LSD. In those days it was legal. You could get it from this Swiss chemical company, and I met six guys who were very willing to give it to me. But I didn’t like any of them enough to take it, so it took me a few months. As for Africa, I was supposed to meet a friend in New York, and we were going to take a tramp steamer to Tangier. It was going to cost $140. Once I got there, my plan was to take a bus for ten cents to the outskirts of town and see elephants and rhinoceroses and giraffes. I was as ignorant as a telephone pole.
In any case, the friend didn’t show up. I don’t think I ever found out what happened to her. I waited for two hours at Idlewild and then took a bus to the Port Authority. I was going through the bus terminal, and I was 21 and these very strangely dressed young black guys were following me and saying these weird things. And I thought, Uh-oh. I didn’t realize they were pimps, but I knew it was bad. So I panicked and got into a cab. When the cabbie asked me where to go, I didn’t know. Then I remembered Tiffany’s. I’d heard of Tiffany’s. And I knew the corner of 57th and Fifth. So I said, “57th and Fifth! Tiffany’s!”
It was very early Sunday, and when I got out New York was deserted. No one anywhere. I had to figure out who I knew and get to a phone. I started bawling as I was walking down the street. Everything I’d ever owned—old college test papers, sneakers from high school—was in these two suitcases. And I couldn’t walk with them. I’d bring one bag about six feet up and then I’d go back and get the other bag and bring it six feet up. Humping these suitcases down Fifth Avenue. And then I got to a phone booth, this box of glass and metal, and I think I felt protected. I just sat there for a while and cried and tried to figure it out. And then I remembered another friend from New Orleans who was supposed to be in New York. She told me to come right over.
She had this wonderful boyfriend from Brooklyn who said, “Well, you’re going to have to get a job.” It made sense; I was going to Africa! There was an ad in the New York Times that said, “Wanted: High-fashion model for Christian Dior. Must have experience.” And he said, “This! You could do this!” And I said, “No, no. I’ve never been a model.” And he looked dead-straight at me and said, “Of. Course. You. Have.” So I was getting all kinds of lessons in New Yorkese and survival, the very morning I got in.
