I’ve taken so many risks. My mum and dad said to me, ‘I don’t know how you’ve managed to sleep at night.’ My mum doesn’t own a credit card and she’s never owned one. At one time I had 11 in my purse, getting credit for this and that aspect of my business. Mum has a wee nest egg put away for a rainy day. She’s probably had the same money in her bank for 30 years. Taking risks with money doesn’t frighten me at all. Fear for me is getting up in the morning and worrying that I’m going to fail.
The doctor gave me some pills. I went to bed. I didn’t even see Rod and Penny off on their jet. I slept through and I woke up – no joke – not the next day, but two days later. It was a warning that I should slow down. I shouldn’t have gone back to work so soon after Bethany. My whole career I’d been telling myself ‘I can do it’ but now I realised my body couldn’t do it at all.
13
RACHEL STEALS PENNY’S PANTS
What defines us is how well we rise after falling.
My gran had kept every single newspaper cutting about me. As I came into her flat I saw there were boxes of newspaper clippings everywhere. ‘Gran, you don’t need to keep all these,’ I said looking through the piles.
‘Oh, no, I have to keep them because I show the home help people.’ The paper almost took over her small flat. ‘I always knew you were different. You were always going to be successful,’ Gran said, pouring me a cup of tea. ‘I remember when you were a wee girl running that paper round. Telling all those boys what to do,’ she recalled.
‘I think you’re right, Gran, second place was never going to be a consideration,’ I laughed.
Seeing my gran always pulled me back to earth. I needed some grounding after passing out from exhaustion. Every now and again I felt this overwhelming need to go back to the East End. Like at Christmas time, when I delivered presents. I needed to reconnect with where I came from, in order to know where I wanted to go. Gran took my hand. ‘There you go. That’s a wee something for you,’ she said, slipping a ten-pound note into my palm. It was ironed and folded neatly into a square.
‘Gran, you need to stop giving me this. I actually don’t need it. It’s fine,’ I said.
The business had gone through the roof since Penny became the face of Ultimo and it was around this time that I was first asked to speak at a few charity events. I was shit-scared because I wasn’t a speaker. I’d had no media training whatsoever. I remember being about to walk onto the stage at a women’s networking event in Glasgow when my stomach turned somersaults. Oh, my god, I am going to be sick. I ran to the toilet and threw up my lunch, probably my second McDonald’s of the day. I don’t know why I was so nervous, but I was.
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid,’ I shouted at myself in the mirror. I wiped my mouth and went out to take the stage. I didn’t have any notes, I didn’t have any prompts – it just came from the heart. ‘Hi, my name is Michelle Mone and I’ve got a bra business,’ I said. I think the audience could tell I was nervous because they started asking me questions.
‘Really, a bra business. What kind of bra?’ one woman asked.
‘Well, I’ve kind of invented this cleavage-enhancing bra. It’s amazing,’ I said, as I pulled samples out of a carrier bag. I handed them out for the women to handle and pass around. ‘And I’ve got kids, and I need to get back soon because I’m cooking spaghetti bolognese,’ I joked. It broke the ice and everyone burst out laughing. The audience ended up – no lie – laughing and crying and when I finished they gave me a standing ovation.
I had only been on stage for 45 minutes but I walked off feeling shattered. I’d put everything into that speech. I didn’t want anyone leaving without saying that I was the best.
I never thought I’d be good at speaking at all but word soon got around the circuit. All the big agents in London and New York signed me up. I’m now the most sought-after women’s speaker in the country, I fly all over the world to events. I now get huge money, amounts that I never, ever would have thought I’d command.
There’s a general story I stick to when I make an appearance, but every speech is different. And each time, whether I’m to speak to 50 people or 2,000 people, I have to throw up in the toilet first. It’s the only thing I’m sick for – public speaking.
Everything was going well by now – except for my work with Penny Lancaster. It was getting more and more difficult to work together. Penny’s contract came to an end after two years, but there was no chance of me renewing it. I think people thought we had a falling-out but I just thought, Who can I get next? I’m a businesswoman at the end of the day. I woke up one morning and I thought, Bloody hell, Rod Stewart’s ex-wife! Rachel Hunter had been a supermodel since she was a teenager. Ultimo was moving into international markets. It would be a strategic decision to find an internationally recognised new face for the brand.
Bet she wouldn’t do it, I thought. Rachel’s divorce from Rod hadn’t even been finalised yet. I’m going to ask her anyway, I’m going to track her down. I remember speaking to Claire Powell, Rachel Hunter’s manager. Claire, who also looked after Peter Andre, said, ‘Is this a wind-up?’
‘No, I promise you it’s not a wind-up. Can we meet?’ I said.
There was a long pause and then Claire said, ‘I’m going to have to call you back to prove you are who you say you are – the real Michelle Mone. What’s your number?’ Claire couldn’t believe it was for real. She called me back but still couldn’t get her head around what I was proposing. ‘Jesus Christ, do you realise what will happen if you replace Rod Stewart’s girlfriend with his ex-wife?’ she spluttered.
‘Er, no, not really.’ I shrugged. I actually didn’t know. Yeah, of course I saw it as a way of getting publicity for the brand and I knew that in business you have to think outside the box. But I wasn’t for one minute using Penny. Penny had been paid for two years’ work, and Ultimo had helped her modelling career no end. At the end of the day both sides won. I didn’t feel guilty. I never thought for one second it would have the consequences that it did.
We all met up and Rachel was desperate to take on the face of Ultimo because there was a lot of friction going on between Penny and her at the time. The two of them didn’t see eye to eye at all. Rachel just said, ‘When do you want me?’ We signed her at the start of 2004. We kept the whole thing under wraps. We couldn’t let the news that I had signed Rachel out of the bag yet.
I was at home, packing for the photo shoot in Miami, when the phone rang. ‘Hi, Michelle, it’s Richard Desmond.’ As in Richard Desmond, owner of the Daily Express and OK magazine. How did he get hold of my house number? ‘Michelle, I want you to tell me now...’ he said.
‘Tell you what, Richard?’ I replied nervously.
‘Have you signed Rachel Hunter? Is this true?’
Panic. ‘No,’ I lied. I had no choice, I couldn’t let it get out yet. Every powerful person in the media was after this news and it was a mission and a half to keep it quiet. We flew to Miami and we hid from the press as much as we could.
Claire played a big part in the shoot. She took it to another level, bringing on board an incredible photographer called Dan Kennedy who I’ve worked with ever since. We chose Miami’s famous Delano hotel as our backdrop for the spring/summer range. It had a beautiful pool and gardens – everything was modern and white. We hid Rachel under umbrellas so no one would recognise her.
We were standing under the palm trees when Claire came up with this idea to have Rachel model the same backless body that Penny had worn in the Chelsea shoot. ‘Both of them in the same outfit for Ultimo. Are you serious?’ I said.
Claire gave me a mischievous grin.
‘Well, it is one of my new inventions and it has only just been released,’ I said.
I had three inventions by this point – the OMG bra, the backless body and the frontless body. I had to keep coming up with new ways of keeping up with my competitors. I thought for a moment. ‘Okay, let’s do it.’
Those pictures – wow. Rachel, who was 32,
had a curvy, sexy figure to die for. Rachel and Penny were both stunning women and they both looked great in the body, but at the end of the day, Rachel was a supermodel. Her calibre and pedigree showed. She was in a different league when it came to working the camera. I was in awe.
‘Jesus look how she moves,’ I said to Claire, as Rachel struck her poses in the hotel garden. The performance she gave was quite incredible. After we had finished for the day, it was time to celebrate.
‘Where are we going tonight?’ I asked Rachel. She named a diner in Miami where they only served milkshakes and fries. ‘You want milkshakes and fries?’ I looked her skinny body up and down.
‘Yeah, let’s go,’ she said, smiling cheekily.
I remember walking in with this supermodel and everyone stared. People kept coming up and asking for her autograph. We sat in a booth with two milkshakes each, fries and a burger. Not exactly what you would expect a model to eat. Of course, I was used to that kind of food. We had such a great time. I suppose the fact that it was a top-secret operation made it even more fun. It was the most I’d laughed in a long while.
I was still excited when it came to writing the press release. Rachel looked incredible and I couldn’t wait to show off our new collection. I knew it would make the headlines because she looked amazing and because it was news that Rachel was our cover girl. I released the pictures of Rachel in March 2004.
Boom.
Jesus Christ, to this day I’ve never seen a launch quite like it.
I had editors telling me they changed their front covers at the last minute to make way for my story. Piers Morgan, who was editing the Daily Mirror at the time, rang. ‘Am I seeing this? Is this for real?’ he gasped. ‘I almost fell off my seat!’
I couldn’t quite believe it myself. Only two years ago Ultimo had been on the brink of closing down and now we were front-page news all over the world. Some of the papers decided to print a picture of Penny and Rachel, side by side, modelling the backless body. Some of the headlines were quite cutting, like: RACHEL OUTSHINES PENNY AGAIN, said the Daily Mail. RACHEL PINCHES PENNY’S PANTS, was another one.
I took a closer look at the picture. ‘Fucking hell,’ I shrieked. Claire Powell had dealt with the retouching of Rachel’s picture and oh, my god, what a blunder she had made. ‘Fucking hell, Claire,’ I squealed down the phone. She’d photoshopped Rachel’s right hand to half the size of what it should be.
‘I know, I don’t know what happened,’ she laughed. It was kind of funny at the time and it detracted from the media circus that was going on. We became really good friends after that.
I didn’t get much in the way of a backlash at first. The only thing the papers did make out was that I had sacked Penny. I categorically stated that wasn’t true. ‘Her contract had come to an end. I did not sack her,’ I blasted. In this industry models replace models all the time. It was business. Penny had done a brilliant job of relaunching Ultimo but I was moving my brand onwards and upwards.
14
CHOKING ON MY PROFITS
There is no lift to success, you need to take the stairs.
The war had begun between Penny and Rachel and I was dragged in. The pair battled it out in the papers – every day Penny would say something and Rachel would respond. I got an absolute battering from the Scottish press because Rod is seen as an icon up there for his love of all things Celtic and of Scotland. I had no clue it would get so big. What started out a publicity stunt quickly turned into a nightmare. I admit, I had made a huge error, one that I would have to live with for the rest of my life.
I need to speak to the press to explain the situation, I thought, panicking.
I decided to do interviews to clear my name. One of the reporters playfully asked me to compare Penny and Rachel to football players and teams. I was still young in business, only 32, and not experienced at that sort of thing. ‘Come on, what would you say?’ the reporter pushed.
‘Well, I don’t really know about football,’ I said. ‘Erm, who’s that really famous, really successful star in football? Is it Ronaldo?’ I asked innocently.
‘Yes,’ the reporter smirked.
‘Well, Rachel has been a supermodel since she was a teenager so I’d compare her to Ronaldo. Penny was just this wee local model so I’d maybe call her Falkirk Football Club.’ I later found out Falkirk played in the Scottish First Division. I had no idea what I had just done until I opened the Scottish Sunday Mail. I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
‘I hope she chokes on her profits,’ blasted Rod Stewart. He had given the Sunday Mail an exclusive interview and he had given me a beasting. It had been written like I was the most hated woman in Scotland. ‘Michelle is a manipulative cow.’
Punch.
‘I was told Michelle was a devious, conniving, publicity-seeking son-of-a-bitch. I was told she was a user.’
Punch.
‘I don’t think Penny has got a single bad bone in her body. But Michelle’s entire skeleton reeks of self-interest.’
Punch.
Oh, God, I felt like I was going to be sick. I was, and still am, a big fan of Rod’s. I couldn’t bear to read his hateful words. I was just trying to make light of the situation. I was just trying to end the war with a bit of humour. I had tried to make everything better but in stupidly shooting my mouth off I had made things so much worse.
Rod went on to say how he still liked Michael; it was just me he despised. That burned. Michael seemed to love it. He taunted me with it. He might as well have done a victory dance around the kitchen.
I glared at him. You fucker, I thought. I’ve been the one that put myself through this to save our company and all you’re concerned about is Rod Stewart liking you. Okay, maybe Michael was being a bit tongue-in-cheek. But I knew that, deep down, he loved the victory he had over me. All that I wanted Michael to do was to stick up for me, just as I’d stuck up for him when Tom and Ian wanted to get rid of him. I wished I had the same support.
Sales were flying as a consequence of what I’d said but I felt like I had sacrificed my soul for the business to get there. I got such a beating by the Scottish media. I was truly hated for what I’d done. The public in Scotland turned against me. About the only person who liked me as a result of the storm was the chairman of Falkirk football team. He called me to rave, ‘This is brilliant! People in America have now heard of us.’ He was delighted. At least I had I done one good thing with my comment. ‘Do you want to join our board of directors?’ he went on.
‘No, you’re alright,’ I said.
I deserved the bad feeling. Rod was quite right to be angry because I had been so stupid. He was right to say he hoped I’d choke on my profits. I do believe you should never regret anything in life because every day is a school day. I didn’t make an error hiring Rachel Hunter because Rachel has probably been the best model Ultimo has ever had. Yet I knew I had made an error in saying that stuff about the football teams. I apologised straight away.
I said through the media that I’d made a very stupid mistake comparing Penny to Falkirk. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. It was my stupidity. I’m sorry.’ No response from Rod. Rod was angry because he trusted me. We’d all had a good time together. I suppose I, in a way, betrayed him. I’ve since bumped into Penny quite a few times, and it’s been friendly, I’ve said, ‘Hello. How are the kids?’ We’re fine now, but back then, it was war.
My dad took it very badly – he had to watch his daughter be hated in Scotland. ‘Just vulgar,’ my dad said, shaking his head in disgust at Rod’s reaction. Dad had grown up listening to Rod Stewart. It was different for Michael’s mum and dad, who never had a record player so they didn’t have the same affinity for Rod. But Dad was furious. He destroyed all his Rod Stewart records.
‘Dad, what are you doing?’ I tried to calm him down.
‘That’s my daughter he’s talking about. I don’t want to hear his songs any more,’ he said, tossing ‘Sailing’ into the bin.
I did try
and reason with him. ‘Dad, this is my fault. This is not Rod’s fault. If it was me, I would have defended my boyfriend.’
Dad took a moment. ‘It’s not the point. He shouldn’t be speaking about a lady like that,’ he said.
Rod’s hateful words had a massive effect on me. I was distraught. I was crying myself to sleep but at the same time kicking myself, thinking I deserved it. Every day I took another battering from the press.
Attack, attack, attack.
I felt very lonely. I needed my husband to comfort me. But Michael was never there. He hadn’t been there for me for years, if I was honest with myself. So I turned to food again for comfort. I ate and I cried. I was now putting away four McDonald’s a day, 13 bags of crisps and bowls of chips. I was still size 22 and all my trousers had elastic bands. I used to get my PA to hide food for me. I admit I used to get her to cover for me by getting her to lie to Michael.
‘How many cans has she had today?’ Michael demanded. I’d look at her. Poor thing. She must have felt under the spotlight.
‘Only two,’ she’d lie.
I sighed with relief. But really the total would have been 15. My sugar intake was obscene. I don’t know how I didn’t have a heart attack. I was so deeply unhappy but food made me feel good for that tiny moment. I used to get my PA to go to the local Chinese and fetch me a chow mein with chips. I would eat everything on the plate until I felt I was going to burst. I was punishing myself for what I had done, for being unhappy and for being fat.
I looked like a train wreck. My face was so swollen it looked as if someone had pumped me up like a tyre. When I look back at photos of the time I don’t even recognise myself. My eyes had sunk into this fat face. My mum and dad were worried about me.
My Fight to the Top Page 10