They’re Models of Diplomacy
What do the pope and Leonardo DiCaprio have in common? Don’t worry, despite his recent turn as le roi soleil, Leo has not expressed a desire to portray the supreme pontiff on screen. But both have recently visited Cuba.
Of course, the U.S. still has not normalized diplomatic relations with Cuba. After all, we had to do something in response to that dreadful massacre a few years ago where government-directed tanks rolled over peacefully protesting students--oh, whoops, that’s the other remaining communist power, the one we are committed to trading with.
Anyway, for whatever reason, you can’t go directly to Cuba without flying someplace else first--unless you get a special dispensation from the State Department, which can be way tougher than persuading the Vatican to grant a Kennedy an annulment. Still, Cuba has become a destination of choice for trend-conscious travelers.
The May issue of Harper’s Bazaar makes it official by sending supermodels Kate Moss and Naomi Campbell to Cuba for a photo shoot. The 18-page spread, photographed by hip snapster Patrick Demarchelier, sets the Vogue seal of approval on the whole Cuba thing--oh, whoops, that’s the other glossy fashion magazine with kissing-up-to-Hollywood features, anorexic models in insanely overpriced clothes, and a salty British woman editor. Whatever.
But the policy wonks at State needn’t worry: There’s no overt commie agitprop in the Bazaar fashion copy, just descriptions of designer clothes that cost more than Cuba’s GNP. The photos are prefaced by some typically breathless alliteration: “As she packed her bags full of feminine skirts, sexy suits and sleek separates perfect for soaking up the local flavor, Naomi rang Kate. ‘Just get to Cuba,’ she said. ‘I’ll bring the clothes.’ ” Yeah, right. And I’ll bet Naomi carried her own suitcases, too.
All that packing and schlepping must make Campbell even more cheesed-off that Moss wound up on the Bazaar cover solo. But perhaps the strangest wrinkle in the whole affair was let slip by Entertainment Weekly:
It seems that while Naomi and Kate were in old Havana, leaning languidly in front of decaying buildings and posing with adorable Cuban children deprived by the U.S. embargo of modern medical care, they snagged a private audience with the great dictator himself, Fidel Castro. Yup, that’s right: Kate, Naomi and Fidel, together at last. I am not making this up.
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Sadly, Harper’s didn’t publish any photos documenting this event. Maybe Naomi had forgotten to pack the right outfits for an encounter with a head of state. We’ll just have to imagine it: two girls, a guy and a paella place. I think it might have gone something like this. . . .
The smoke-darkened interior of erstwhile Hemingway haunt La Bodeguita del Medio, Old Havana, Cuba. KATE and NAOMI, in stunning white suits cut to their navels, both available from Richard Tyler Couture, sit at a table, idly fanning themselves. It is very hot.
NAOMI: So who is this guy, anyway?
KATE: He’s like their president or something?
NAOMI: So why are we meeting him in this dump?
KATE: Maybe he’s married and wants to keep it on the Q.T., like President Clinton.
They both giggle.
FIDEL enters, in his traditional fatigues, available from Army surplus.
FIDEL: Ah, beautiful American modelas! Welcome to Cuba. I am Fidel. (Kissing his fingers toward them:) Kate, Naomi, I have seen your pictures many times in Women’s Wear Daily, but you are even more beautiful in person! (He pulls up a chair and joins them.) But we must drink to celebrate your visit! (Snapping his fingers:) Bartender, tres mojitos, por favor!
NAOMI: Thanks, but we don’t drink.
KATE: Do you have any Diet Coke?
FIDEL: No, due to the embargo, in Cuba libre we can’t even make a decent Cuba libre--but we do have some Kremlin Kola, expiration date 1981.
KATE: No, thanks.
FIDEL: Kate, has anyone ever told you you are too thin?
KATE: No, never.
She takes Evian out of her purse and swigs it.
FIDEL: If all you consume is water, no wonder you are so skinny! You need some good Cuban cooking to put a little meat on those bones and give a man something he can hold on to! You should be more like Monica!
KATE: Who’s Monica? What agency is she with?
FIDEL: Monica! The girlfriend of your president! Now, there is a whole lot of woman! And she wears a beret. Maybe she has secret revolutionary sympathies.
NAOMI: I hear Herb Ritts is shooting her for Vanity Fair.
FIDEL: I must renew my subscription! I admire your president very much. He is a lusty man. If only he would lift the embargo, I’m sure we could be compadres.
KATE (staring at Fidel:) Can I ask you something? Are you married? Is that why you’re wearing that fake beard? Like O.J.?
She reaches over to pull on it. Fidel reacts in pain.
FIDEL: Now you have insulted me!
KATE: Sorr-ee! Who knew?
NAOMI: (playing peacemaker) C’mon, Fidel, honey, Kate didn’t mean it. Don’t fly off the handle.
FIDEL: (relenting) Do you like ice cream? I know a great place over on Avenida Karl Marx.
KATE: It’s so hot I might swallow a mouthful or two.
NAOMI: Don’t worry, you can always bring it up again later.
FIDEL: Vamanos!
The three link arms and exit, Fidel humming the Internationale under his breath.
