Josie Borain: SA’s first true supermodel has found herself in her fifties

Josie Borain’s cropped hair and androgynous beauty were anachronisms in a time when fashion magazine covers were dominated by picture-pretty Cindy Crawford and Christy Turlington pouts.

So it comes as something of a surprise, then, that the supermodel Jocelyn Warrington met at La Cuccina in Hout Bay is anything but androgynous

Jocelyn Warrington (JW): You were 21 when Calvin Klein signed you on a three-year, $1-million package, living, working and playing in Paris and New York. That’s a long way from white middle-class Joburg suburbia, where you grew up.

Josie Borain (JB) (wolfing down a croissant – “the kids are banting!”): Yes, a lot happened when I was very young. I only got into modelling as a backdoor to try to get work in the fashion industry. I was 18, dyslexic, had no matric certificate and had followed a boyfriend to Cape Town. It was just a job. I tended to look at things that way back then. I saw my face plastered all over Times Square and I only took one photograph. I guess my upbringing had something to do with it – I come from a family of realists. We don’t sweep things under the carpet. And the older I get the more intolerant I become of pretences – even slightly judgmental of them.

JW: But you were big! As big as it was possible to be?

JB: I had the right look. I came on to the scene when models were all long-haired and cutesy. I was a refreshing change, that’s all. I don’t think I was a very good model really. In nearly every picture I’m looking off camera, usually in profile. I was never a poser or a pouter.

JW: You made a lot of money though?

JB: I did, and I’ve been careful with it. I don’t do Prada handbags and Gucci sunglasses. I wear hand-me-downs from Chic Mama, a charity shop in Hout Bay.

JW: Okay, so you didn’t snort your money up your nose, but you lived it up, surely? I mean, come on, you were fraternising with supermodels and film stars?

JB [laughs]: I was – I am – actually very shy, which people sometimes interpret as rudeness. At those parties, I’d hang out with the barman, and I’m not even a drinker. I’d pick up my camera and take photographs of the models in makeup or of the crew, the working people. I was more comfortable like that.

JW: It was a shield, then, your camera?

JB: Yes, definitely a shield. You have to remember that it was a very different world back then. South Africa was incredibly insular – the only magazines we had were Fairlady, Rooi Rose and Scope. There was no social media. There was a lot less information and also a lot less confusion, I guess. We were breaking rules without knowing we were doing it. Nowadays, everything is so politically correct, everyone is trying so hard to be perfect. There was no therapy in the ’80s. We blundered through the issues as we faced them.

JW: Issues like the death of your first husband? He was a photographer, right, and it is to him that you credit your love affair with photography? Was it an instant attraction between you and the camera?

JB: It was. And I worked with some great photographers, Peter Lindbergh, Irving Penn, Richard Avedon, and later, when I shot commercials, with cinematographer Néstor Almendros. They were pure genius. That level of creativity is such a turn-on. Then digital came along and anyone could take a photograph.

JW: There were other men though. You’re divorced with children by two different fathers. You even dated “The Earl” Charles Spencer for a while...

JB: I’ve made a few mistakes [laughs]. No, I actually wouldn’t call them mistakes. They were what they were. I was introduced to Charles by his former wife, Victoria [Lockwood]. I had a two-and-a-half-month-old baby. I dated him for nine months.

JW: It just happened to be during the time that his famous sister, Princess Diana, died in a car accident. And you attended the funeral. That must have been surreal?

JB: Yes, when they put her in the ground there were only three non-family members on that island – the butler, the chauffeur and me! I do ask: “Why me?” I guess they knew I wouldn’t sell the story [laughing], I’d just give it away for free!

JW: And you were married shortly after that to your second husband?

JB: Langley is 10 years younger than me. We had two children together. He’s a great dad. But when I look back I see that all these people came into my life when I was in a kind of lull. They chose me. And they weren’t really my people. I’m so much better off now in so many ways. I can see the patterns in my life and I’m grateful for that insight. These days, my friends and my children are what’s important to me. I choose my own tribe.

JW: So tell us about motherhood? You have an 18-year-old son, Peter Raven, who’s living and working in New York, and two teenagers, Willow, 15, and Phoenix, 13?

JB: Parenting sucks! No one tells you how scary it is or that you will live for evermore in constant fear of your children’s safety. My happy place is in my own home with my children around me, where I know they are safe, like a lioness with her pride – and no hangers-on.

JW: You’ve never considered emigrating?

JB: I worry about my children’s futures. And I was away from home for a long time – from ’82 to ’95. But my heart is here. They say you fall in love with either Africa or India. I fell for Africa.

JW: What’s next, then, for Josie Borain?

JB: To finish raising my children. I’ve also started making art, so maybe that will lead somewhere. I’m in a very lucky place right now – I don’t need or want anything. Maybe when I’m done with the kids I’ll start walking. I might walk to Egypt.

This article was originally published in the Spring/Summer ‘15 edition of 'The Edit'. This biannual fashion and beauty magazine, is dedicated to seasonal must-haves. You'll also find loads of outfit inspiration and interviews with fashion legends. Read the full issue now.