Tuesday 27 January 2004

Jasmine's juice

We were going to Rio or Puerto Rico after Aspen, but divas change their minds at the drop of a hat. So we flew to St Martin on Mariah's private jet, then took a speedboat to neighbouring Anguilla. I went from tanning on the slopes to bronzing on the beaches. The first few days were spent relaxing by the pool, watching Jack the Dog pole vaulting into the water, playing cards and swimming with stingrays and dolphins. Readers may recall that two years ago I was attacked by dolphins in Mexico, but the trainers reassured me that dolphins don't carry beef. I took my courage in both flippers and all was hunky dory.

In the evenings we played a music knowledge game entitled For the Record, and one night Mariah pulled out a question about herself. Surreal. On New Year's Eve she got a call from her mate Damon "entrepreneur-of-all things-fresh-to-def" Dash. He invited us all to lunch so we swanned on down with our beachwear, only to find him surrounded by his tiny daughter Ava, Ava's mum Rachel, BET head Bob Johnson, Jay Z, Beyoncé, Denzel and Mrs Washington, Giorgio Armani and family, and Robert De Niro. Someone pinch me. Damon was holding court among the glitterati. As soon as Giorgio's son went to take a picture, I leapt up like Linford and got them to snap me a memory too - except at that moment Robert had gone over to the bar and I missed the photo opportunity. How gutted was I?

On New Year's Day we all went to Damon's family house for dinner outside on a table beautifully set by the moonlit pool with thousands of flickering candles. Before dinner Damon dragged me and Mariah aside to listen to the album by his recent signing, UK rap group SAS. Dame kept yelling at me: "See, aren't they the shit?!" They did sound hot. Damon assured me he was "the saviour of UK urban music". He did say it while holding a blunt in each hand, so we can forgive the bragadociousness.

Over dinner it was Jas versus Dame as we bantered to and fro, me cussing his often ludicrous statements like, "Even the Queen of England and Prince Charles know who Dame Dash is!" Ummm, no Dame. While I was laughing my socks off, he put me on blast by cussing my white-on-white Air Force Ones, which I admit I had mistreated on the beach. He told me if I couldn't have a "fresh-to-def" pair on every outing, I should go barefoot. I said I would if I was on his fresh-to-def salary. After dinner we played the US version of charades. You act out a word which your team tries to guess. Can y'all believe the man running Roc-A-Wear didn't know what a tape measure was? I told him I'd blast him in my column.

Back in NYC I caught up with old friends like MTV's Janet Shaw and went shopping with Di Joseph, formerly of Truce. Di was shocked when I tried on a pair of $30,000 Gucci shoes with a hole in my sock. I made up for it by taking her to my fave NYC eatery, Negrils. Then Kele Le Roc popped over, shortly followed by Masterstepz - a full-on Brit exodus. Finally, I bumped into Ja Rule at JFK airport and we chatted while waiting for our flights. He was incognito in his hoodie but finer than wine on a summer's day. Me? I was just smiling at the perfect end to my perfect trip.

(The Voice)



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