Whatever spawned it, Rebecca Romijn's flair for fashion was nurtured on the cheap. "My parents didn't have any money when I was really little," she says, "so we had to shop at Value Village." The product of a Bohemian Berkeley upbringing Romijn (pronounced Ro-MAIN) showed her free spirit ai age of 5, when she packed her own bags for a family camping trip to a California state park. I Recalls her mother, Elizabeth, a teacher who was divorced from Rebecca Dutch father, Jaap, a custom furniture builder, in 1979: "One night when we were cooking over the campfire, she came out wearing a little crocheted dress [near left], with a bunch of makeup and jewelry on!" When she turned 18, Romijn had enough confidence to hop a plane to Paris and begin a modeling career. Now 24, she has settled in L.A. with actor-boyfriend John Stamos and is best known for her regular appearances in the Victoria's Secret catalog. These days, Romijn describes her look as "a mix: I still shop at thrift stores—and at Barneys." But there's one big difference. "Now," she says, "I know who all the designers are."
Tyra Banks
In 1991, during her first round of go-sees in Paris, the other models were wearing spike heels with black leggings and turtlenecks—while this Inglewood, Calif., girl was dressed for traipsing through the Métro. "I had on my big overalls, hiking boots, a plaid shirt and no makeup," says Banks."I wasn't sleek. I was a bum." Others might call her a true original. During weekends away from her all-girls Catholic high school, Banks and a girlfriend "would get iridescent men's shirts and tie them up really tight under our flat chests," she recalls. "Then we would get jeans shorts and cut them off. And remember that hippie look? I tried to do it on my own [above]." Her mother and manager, Carolyn London (divorced from computer consultant Don Banks), winces at the memories: "I do have to say, she was very creative." Today, Banks, 23, no longer sports Nike sandals, socks and a sweatshirt for her evenings out and wears makeup even when she's not working. "I feel like more eyes are on me now," she says. "And I don't want to disappoint people."
Bridget Hall
Even as a tot, she had a favorite piece of clothing. "My bathing suit," says Hall. "I used to sleep in it, take baths in it, and my mom had a lot of trouble getting me out of it." Bridget was just as tenacious about her ambitions. "It was always 'Mommy, I want to be a model,' " recalls Bridget Hall Inc. president Donna Hall, who was divorced from her husband, Roger, when their daughter was an infant. At 10, Bridget signed up with an agency in her hometown of Dallas and four years later dropped out of R.L. Turner High to pursue her career full-time. A veteran today at 19, she has no regrets and no complaints—except that now there is one thing that makes her self-conscious. "Yeah, that," says Hall with a laugh. "A bathing suit."
Joel West
His boyhood years on a 60-acre quarter horse ranch in Indianola, Iowa, sound like a Ralph Lauren fantasy. He had his own pony, and everybody wore cowboy hats. Still, 22-year-old West looks back on those days as anything but idyllic. "I was a sensitive kid, and I wasn't really into the lifestyle," says West, whose family owned a rodeo arena. "I didn't like horses, and the rodeo clowns hung out at the house, drinking beer." Adds his mother, veterinary technician Gipple, who was divorced from his father, Rob West, In 1989: "It was real important for Joel [below, at 5, with little brother Jake] not to be labeled 'country' or a hick." Instead, at Indianola High School, West recalls that he created a different image: "Total prep. Tight Guess? jeans, penny loafers, nice plaid shirts and the woven belt with the end hanging down." By the time he enrolled in Buena Vista College in Storm Lake, Iowa, he had grown into his oversize lips and almond-shape eyes. With encouragement from a local photographer, West left school in 1994 and headed for New York City, where he landed runway work and print campaigns for such designers as Calvin Klein and Versace. Now he has fame, fortune—and the underlying basics. At the end of every modeling gig, he says, "I always take the underwear and socks."
Chandra North
She was always trying on different personas. As a 4-year-old in Dallas, she says, "I smeared this really expensive jar of my mom's face cream all over my naked body and screamed, 'I'm a monster.' " Two years later she became a little ballerina, taking dance lessons that would continue until she was 15. After that came her adolescent cheerleader phase—followed by what she describes as a "Death Rock-Marilyn Monroe" period when she wore Betsey I Johnson minis and lace leggings in all-black. Her mother, Rives, a former Neiman Marcus salesclerk who was divorced from Chandra's father when their daughter was a toddler, recalls a 1986 vacation in Mexico City when Chandra "bleached her hair Billy Idol white and people went crazy because they thought she was Madonna." That was also the year that she painted on a beauty mark for her first foray into the modeling world—a teen fashion show at a local club (center). But in 1991, when Chandra—the name means "moon" in Hindi—moved to New York City as a 21-year-old aspiring model, such designers as Isaac Mizrahi saw through the camouflage. "There are freaky looks here and there, and all kinds of wild stuff," says John Gnerre, head booker at her modeling agency, WOMEN. "But what carries Chandra through is just plain beauty."
Michael Bergin
As a self-confident high schooler in Naugatuck, Conn., he wore a wardrobe consisting of T-shirts paired almost exclusively with sweatpants. "Blue, red, black. Even the pink ones," says Bergin, who also happened to be captain of the basketball team, a 40 student and voted best-looking in his class. But after graduating from the University of Connecticut, Bergin, the son of Ronald, a former state police sergeant, and Lorraine, a hairstylist, made the mistake of wearing his favorite pair of acid-washed denims to a Big Apple modeling agency. "They were popular in Connecticut, but a booker finally told me: 'Listen, Don't wear those jeans,' " he says. "I felt like such a jerk." Bergin took the advice—and hit the big time—wearing nothing but his Calvins for a splashy 1994 ad campaign. Today, Bergin, 28, is a spokesman for Liz Claiborne for Men and a regular on Baywatch, where, clad in little more than a Speedo, he no longer has to worry about snotty New York rules. Now, even his castoffs are in hot demand. Lorraine Bergin recalls the time she mentioned to a coworker that she didn't know what to do with her son's old; denims. "Why, I know someone who has daughters," the woman: volunteered, "and they'd love a pair of Michael Bergin's jeans."
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
