Brad knows what kind of plane Lagerfeld travels on because he has flown on it often. As the most senior and prominent member of a group of male models often referred to as Karl’s Boys, Brad not only works for Chanel and Fendi, the fashion houses where Lagerfeld is the head designer, but also accompanies him on yearly vacations to St. Tropez and work trips and to parties worldwide. He has been photographed with Lagerfeld so often that gossip blogs have mistakenly identified him as the designer’s boyfriend, but their relationship is not romantic. Lagerfeld refers to Brad and the other models that travel with him as his family, albeit a self-selected, genetically ideal one. “I hate ugly people,” Lagerfeld told me. “Very depressing.”
If models were show dogs, Brad would be a golden retriever. He has a strong jaw, hazel eyes and thick blond hair that seems perpetually windswept. The scruff on his face is shaped carefully, deliberately, to draw attention to his cheekbones. Unlike other beautiful people whose appeal lies in a distinctive facial quirk, Brad’s features are perfectly proportioned, with no apparent flaws or peculiarities. When he models, he looks like a Roman statue. “His best bit is the curve of his thigh,” Lagerfeld once said.
At the airport, Hudson snapped photos on an iPhone while his father modeled for him. An hour went by. The man in the suit reappeared and said there would be “a special cake” for “Mr. Hudson” on the plane. Brad asked if there might be special wine for him. “Might as well, right?” he said, and grinned.
Around 2:30, Lagerfeld appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the airport lounge. He was dressed in the manner that has made him the most recognizable designer in the world: a white shirt with a high Edwardian collar, fingerless leather gloves, a strict black blazer and sunglasses. A diamond cat brooch was pinned to his tie, and his tight black pants were covered in a microprint of his own likeness, which ran up and down the leg and, from far away, looked like a thick pinstripe.
“Hello!” Lagerfeld said. He glanced at the field of small planes and frowned. “And where is ours? Is it that one?” Brad pointed to the larger jet parked just out of view. “Ah, the big one,” Lagerfeld said. “Good.”
Lagerfeld was expected that evening in Dubai, where he would show Chanel’s 2015 resort collection in two days. Typically Brad would model in the show, but in Dubai, only Hudson, who is Lagerfeld’s godson, would walk the runway. (He has been appearing in Chanel shows since he was 2.) Lagerfeld was accompanied on the trip, as he is most places, by his 39-year-old bodyguard, Sébastien Jondeau, a part-time boxer with a sinewy build and an intense stare. (A few days later, he nearly body-checked Brad when he held a cup of coffee a little too close to Lagerfeld’s white blazer).
Lagerfeld led the way to the plane. Inside, a wineglass of Diet Coke awaited him at his seat. At the back of the aircraft was a single bed made up with crisp white linens.
“But where am I going to sleep?” Hudson asked.
“You sleep on your seat, darling,” Lagerfeld replied in his heavy German accent. “I have to arrive fresh, you don’t have to. Don’t be selfish.”
Lagerfeld rummaged in one of his many shopping bags and fished out a matching light blue Givenchy tank top and shirt with their tags still attached. “For Dubai,” he said, handing them to Brad. For the plane ride, Brad wore jeans and a blazer by Dior and white Nike high-top sneakers. A rose-gold Rolex glimmered on one wrist, and on the other he wore a diamond bracelet by Chrome Hearts, Lagerfeld’s favorite jewelry brand. “Karl is really generous,” Brad told me. “He likes his friends to look chic.”
After lunch — caviar and salmon tartare for Lagerfeld; caviar, foie gras and scallops for Brad; couscous and vegetables for Hudson — Lagerfeld fell asleep not in his bed, but upright in his seat, Dracula-like. He was still wearing his sunglasses, and the stiff collar of his shirt seemed to dig in uncomfortably at his neck. Brad took out a notebook and jotted down the trip’s mileage. He keeps a log of the cumulative distance he has traveled as a model, currently at 2.4 million miles. Back in St. Louis, where Brad is from, his mother, Barb, keeps track by pinning red flags on a large world map in her basement. The plane climbed into the sky and reached a quiet lull. “See, I told you,” Brad said. “Up here, there’s almost no turbulence.”
Brad likes to say that male modeling is to the women’s business as the W.N.B.A. is to the N.B.A. While Gisele Bündchen’s yearly income is estimated at around $47 million, men of Brad’s standing earn $200,000 to $500,000. A male model, however, can gain an advantage, and ensure career longevity, by forging relationships with influential designers and photographers.
Most of today’s top men have longstanding associations with certain labels. But in a way, Brad is unlike other models, because Lagerfeld isn’t like other designers. Lagerfeld has been at Chanel’s helm since 1983 and still designs 17 collections a year for Chanel, Fendi and his namesake line, an unprecedented feat of creative stamina. He is also a photographer who shoots campaigns for his labels as well as for other brands, like Audi. Brad has become the beneficiary of Lagerfeld’s productivity, appearing on his runways and in his ads. That Brad continues to work well into his 30s is due in no small part to having Lagerfeld as his champion. “If I never met Karl, there’s no way I’d still be modeling,” he said.
by Irina Aleksander, NY Times | Read more:
Image: Brad Kroenig
