There are only five top models in the world: Cindy Crawford, Naomi Campbell, Linda Evangelista, Christy Turlington and Claudia Schiffer.
I can't sing half as well as Claudia Lennear. Hats off to her, but somehow, things happened for me.
Claudia. . . you've been a very very naughty little girl.
Up until I was 12 my sisters used to dress me up as a girl and introduce me as 'Claudia'! Twelve was a real turning point for me as I moved to a mixed school, and then I became cool and discovered hair gel.
Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away. That is, running away in the heat of anger with a knapsack on her pack. She didn't like discomfort; even picnics were untidy and inconvenient: all those insects and the sun melting the icing on the cupcakes. Therefore, she decided that her leaving home would not be just running from somewhere but would be running to somewhere.
The place didn't look the same but it felt the same; sensations clutched and transformed me. I stood outside some concrete and plate-glass tower-block, picked a handful of eucalyptus leaves from a branch, crushed them in my hand, smelt, and tears came to my eyes. Sixty-seven-year-old Claudia, on a pavement awash with packaged American matrons, crying not in grief but in wonder that nothing is ever lost, that everything can be retrieved, that a lifetime is not linear but instant. That, inside the head, everything happens at once.
You see in Once Upon a Time in the West the whole film moves around her [Claudia Cardinale]. If you take her out, there's no more film. She's the central motor of the entire happening.
I don't know Heidi Klum. She was never known in France. Claudia Schiffer also doesn't know who she is.
