I WAS a carefree London girl living the dream in Paris. David Austin, George Michael’s childhood friend, was my boyfriend and we were young and in love.
We had a wonderful apartment in St Germain and David would produce music out of the home studio.
We were always surrounded by wonderfully creative people. It wasn’t unusual to see Maxi Priest, Alison Moyet, and Paul Young having jam sessions in our front room. George was a frequent house guest and this is where I really got to know him. He was a gentle soul full of insecurities about his immense talent.
I was always amazed over a cup of tea when George would voice his concerns that he wasn’t really as talented as his fans thought he was.
Nights at the hottest club in town, les Bain Douches, were filled with dancing the night away. We would laugh our heads off when people would approach him and say he looked just like George Michael. Despite the hedonistic days of the late 80s and 90s George always preferred a roast at home with a glass of wine.
One funny night we went to a great French restaurant and by chance the Gipsy Kings were playing. They had become hugely famous in Europe and once they realised George was there, they started playing “Bamboleo”. The only problem was they never stopped and we all wanted to go home. So we stood up pretending to dance to the music and danced quietly out the door. David and George invited me to join them for the Miami leg of the Faith tour and I flew out for the week. I was exhausted and promptly fell asleep in the sound box. David being the cheeky bugger he told George. Post-show, George asked me what I thought of his performance. I, of course, lied my head off and said it was great. I couldn’t work out why they were falling about laughing.
Once I realised I spent a few minutes chasing them about backstage screaming at them for tricking me.
I would fly back and forth to London for my job as a model booker for Elite London and Paris and we would always have dinner at David’s apartment in Regents Park.
It was at one of these fun-fuelled nights and I had a copy of the Vogue cover of the five supermodels shot by Peter Lindberg.
It was stunning and at that time these girls were at the top of their game. George had written “Freedom” and we were bandying about on how we could integrate them into the music video.
George suddenly said it would be fantastic to have them lip synch the lyrics. We all workshopped how hard it would be to get it perfect or it would look like a badly dubbed foreign film.
The very next day George called me and wanted to take me to lunch. He took me to Le Caprice, a favourite of Bright Young Things back in the day. No sooner had I ordered, he announced he wanted to do the shoot with the girls. I casually mentioned that it was the start of Paris Fashion week and as I booked the girls I knew they were solidly optioned for shows all that week.
He wasn’t one to take no for an answer so I left lunch with mission impossible to secure the booking.
The next few days were a blur of negotiations. I remember being on a conference call with George’s management in LA and Elite, New York. We had reached $10,000 per girl for half a day’s shoot which was unprecedented at the time. A precursor to the famous phrase “we don’t get out of bed for less than $10,000”.
George simply said to me “do it” and in the end we confirmed Linda Evangelista, Naomi Campbell, Christy Turlington, Cindy Crawford and Tatiana Patitz.
David Fincher was shooting Alien 3 at Elstree Studios in London and hot shot to fame at 24 years old with Madonna’s groundbreaking “Express Yourself” video. He agreed to film “Freedom”.
The schedule was set and all the girls had been sent the recording to learn the lyrics and practice their lip synching skills. Naomi was first up. She flew in from New York and performed like the goddess that she is. Tatiana came next. During the first day George stood by my side. I had never done anything quite so momentous and it was scary for me, but he was wonderful and a true friend. He never stopped telling me what a brilliant job I was doing.
During all this I had forgotten to get a photographer to document the behind the scenes action. In a panic I told George I knew a little-known photographer called Mark Liddell. George said he trusted my judgment so I frantically rang Mark and he grabbed his camera and captured all the action. Mark went onto use all five women’s photos for his portfolio and shot to fame as a leading fashion photographer. George was so lovely and trusting to have allowed just that simple act and many years later Mark thanked me for giving him the break in his career.
Day two started with Cindy Crawford who had the infamous nude bath scene. Prior to shooting George asked me if we could listen and watch her do the lip synch prior to shooting. He wanted to be sure it was perfect. To this day I remember being nervous for her. She might have been the most famous model in the world but the poor thing had to sing the lyrics to the rock star who wrote and performed them.
We cleared the set and Cindy hopped into the bath. George said he would have paid double to see Cindy having a bath. I cracked up and we sunk into the background when Fincher shot us a look to shut up.
Day three was with Linda Evangelista. Linda was spectacular as usual. She was always my favourite and was known as the supermodel’s supermodel. She was the absolute best in the business. She had gone from a brunette to a platinum blonde and the “Freedom” video would be the first time people would see her hair like this.
Christy was the last to shoot. She was exquisite like a baby deer. We shot her solo and then Fincher and George said they wanted to do a scene using both girls pricking their fingers and sucking each other’s blood from the wound. I remember talking with George about how I could broach this with them. It was very sexual and we needed them to be cool with it.
When in doubt, bring on the champagne. We all sat drinking and laughing and I casually dropped in the plan for the scene — they happily agreed. George and I kept drinking and, bless his heart, he got quite pissed. I did too.
He whispered in my ear that we should go home and I said yes. We wrapped our arms around each other to steady ourselves and off we went. I had just shared an experience that has stayed with me for almost thirty years.
David and I broke up after few years and Yog (that’s what his mates calls him) was the first to call me to see I was OK. That’s what he was like.
When I heard his mum died I contacted David to send my condolences onto George. I knew his relationship with his lovely mum was everything to him. I think she knew he was gay but his dad didn’t — I would often pretend I was his girlfriend and not David’s.
For years he had to pretend to be this sex symbol for female fans everywhere. It was tough for him. But his close friends always fiercely protected his privacy.
The last time I saw him was when he visited and performed in Autralia. We had dinner and went to a club. He was the same lovely man I had always known. David was still by his side as his lifelong best friend. It was lovely and I promised to get to London to see them both again very soon.
I had long stopped telling people about my friendship with George. Life rolls on and living on the other side of the world I would read about his troubles and remember the bright light that was Georgios Panayiotou. He was always Yog to me and George Michael to his fans.
He was the friend who gave a young girl the opportunity of a lifetime and he will be missed. I have shed a tear for the beautiful person he was but I will always have the memories.
Rest in peace, my friend.
