Iman, the widow of legendary musician David Bowie, is known for her privacy, especially when it comes to their only daughter, Lexi Jones. But in a rare and candid moment, the supermodel recently opened up about 23-year-old Lexi, whom fans say is the spitting image of her famous father, sharing his iconic eyes.
Former supermodel, Iman, seldom talks about her 23-year-old daughter with late music icon, David Bowie in interviews. However, in a recent interview, she made a rare comment that gave fans a glimpse into who Lexi is and what she loves to do.
During a sit-down with Instyle, she shared how the COVID-19 pandemic sparked a newfound passion that she now shares with her daughter.
She revealed, “I was at my upstate house and I was by myself. So I started painting. My husband was a painter. My daughter is a painter. I have never painted. And I started painting.”
Though Iman values her privacy, she occasionally shares glimpses of Lexi Jones on social media. In addition to sharing sneak peeks into Lexi’s passions, she also celebrates her publicly, especially on her birthdays.
In August 2023, she posted a heartfelt video compilation celebrating Lexi’s 23rd birthday, accompanied by the caption, “Happy Birthday, Little Wonder. God blessed us with the greatest gift: You!”
Fans celebrated Lexi, and also quickly noted Lexi’s beauty and striking resemblance to Bowie. One commenter said, “Happy belated birthday, Dad’s twin.” Another gushed, “She’s so gorgeous it’s unbelievable!!”
Previously, the supermodel and entrepreneur posted a photo showcasing Lexi’s large, expressive eyes dark hair, and well-defined eyebrows. Her caption read, “Happy Birthday, my heart, my pride, my love, my angel, my Lexi! I’m proud to call myself your mommy.”
Fans were again amazed by her resemblance to the late legendary singer. One remarked, “Her Dad’s twin,” and another added, “Incredible her expressions, her laugh, the way she lowers her eyes …incredible ..like her dad.”
Lexi Jones, from a post dated August 15, 2023 | Source: Instagram/the_real_iman
Like her mom, Lexi is selective about what she shares online, but when she does post photos, they often highlight her distinctive features. A recent photo showcased her vivid green eyes, which were especially striking against her dark, full eyebrows.
Her long lashes enhanced the impact of her gaze. Her dark hair, styled with bangs, framed her face, while the rest was pulled back, drawing even more attention to her facial structure. One fan noted, “Daddy’s eyes [sic].”
While fans marveled at Lexi’s resemblance to her father, Iman shared touching memories of her late husband in the interview, emphasizing his never-ending presence in her life.
She recounted a story from their early days together, “My husband, the first week we met, we were walking down the street and my shoelaces came undone, and he got to his knees and tied [them up]. That is my perfect person.”
She stressed that Bowie was still her husband, saying, “When people say, ‘your late husband,’ I always correct them. He is my husband, not my late husband. He was the perfect person for me and I’m happy that I was able to experience that in my lifetime.”
When David Bowie was alive, the family led a relatively normal life despite their celebrity status. Iman cooked dinner every night, and they both ensured Lexi had a grounded upbringing. Bowie cherished the time spent playing music with Lexi, who inherited her parents’ artistic talents.
Bowie once said of his wife, Iman, “She’s uncanny at keeping the business at her office and the woman at home. But she’s a mom 24/7.”
Bowie passed away over eight years ago, but Iman continues to commemorate his life. She marked the 8th year since her husband’s passing with a touching post on Instagram on January 10, 2024. The tribute reflected the eternal bond shared between the renowned couple while showing fans a glimpse into Iman’s artistic side.
Her post featured a black-and-white canvas drawing of what appeared to be a person with wings. Although she did not further explain her share, Iman wrote a few sweet words alongside her post.
“Eternal Love,” she captioned the post with the hashtag “#BowieForever.” Several of Iman’s fans and followers expressed their admiration for her artwork and kind words about her love story with Bowie.
Iman’s Instagram share follows another post that commemorated Bowie’s life. On his birthday on January 8, 2024, she shared the same hashtag along with a captivating photograph, celebrating the enduring spirit of her late husband.
Bowie passed away on January 10, 2016, after an 18-month-long battle with cancer. His official Facebook page announced the tragic news but gave fans comfort knowing that the artist died surrounded by his family.
Iman has spoken about her husband since his passing, revealing that she would never tie the knot again. Although Bowie is no longer physically with her, he was, is, and will always be her husband.
“I definitely feel his presence, especially when I look out over the glorious sunsets at our home because David loves sunsets,” she said. “So, in that way, he is ever-present. Through my memory, my love lives.”
The couple, who met through a blind date, fell in love immediately. “David said it was love at first sight,” Iman said. Their enduring love story has since been admired by many.
Although they chose to keep their relationship private, the goodness they brought to each other manifested internally. “If David was not in my life, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to start Iman Cosmetics,” Iman disclosed.
Iman and David Bowie’s home became a reminder of their love and saved her from the pain and heartbreak of losing him. Although many years have passed, she still pays tribute to him in more ways than one.
I Found a Love Letter from My Husband That Ended Our Marriage
When Nancy discovers a hidden letter in her husband David’s laundry, her seemingly stable life unravels. The letter, written by David, invites a mysterious woman to celebrate their “seven-year anniversary.” What else will the dirty laundry reveal?
Laundry was just another Mom thing in our household. David helps out with the kitchen and the kids — but the laundry and the bathroom are two things he will never tackle.
A person doing laundry | Source: Pexels
“I can’t do the hair in the drain,” David said, grimacing when I asked him to take over the chores.
“It’s my hair. And our daughter’s,” I chuckled.
“Still gross,” he retorted.
But the sounds of the washing machine and the hum of the dryer soon became my perfect quiet chore — and I loved that it was mine.
Except for the time when laundry day revealed more than just dirty stains.
A woman washing her hair | Source: Pexels
As I shuffled through my husband’s laundry, the soft crinkle of paper disrupted the mindless actions of my hands. A folded letter, elegant and unsuspecting, slipped from between the folds of his shirt, falling to the floor.
Happy anniversary, babe! These 7 years have been the best of my life! Meet me at Obélix on Wednesday night, 8 p.m. Be in red.
My husband’s handwriting was unmistakable. The loops of his letters and the hard pressure with which he wrote.
A man writing on a piece of paper | Source: Pexels
A cold shiver ran down my spine.
Seven years? David and I had been married for eighteen years. We had two daughters. Our anniversary wasn’t for another six months.
And Obélix? The fanciest restaurant in town? After David had specifically told me that we needed to cut down our expenses.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
“We need to cook at home more, Nancy,” he said. “Less takeout. The girls will just have to get used to the idea — we’ve been spending unnecessarily, lately.”
“Are we in trouble?” I asked, thinking that we were falling down some financial hole that we hadn’t been expecting.
“No, we’re not,” David reassured me. “But it’s just good to be mindful.”
A person packing takeout into a brown bag | Source: Unsplash
Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. It was all I thought about for days. I wanted to get to the bottom of David’s secret letter. A day after I found the note in his shirt pocket, I went back to see if it was still there — but the pocket was empty.
Signed, sealed, and delivered, I thought.
“I’m working late tonight, honey,” David said that morning while I began the breakfast routine.
A person making breakfast | Source: Pexels
“Should I leave you a plate, or will you grab something?” I asked, knowing full well that he had dinner plans with some mysterious woman in red.
“I’ll get something on the way home,” he said, walking out the door with his travel mug.
The day dragged on with me doing school drop-offs and the afternoon lift club consisting of five noisy schoolgirls. But even through that, I couldn’t get David out of my mind.
I took the girls back home and made them snacks for when they were sitting outside, while trying to figure out what to do.
Two little girls outside | Source: Pexels
“You’ve got the time and the location, Nancy,” my mother said when I phoned her for clarity.
“So, you think I should go? Really?” I asked.
Of course, I wanted to go. I wanted to be the one to catch David in the act. But I was also scared of breaking my own heart.
“Yes. Your entire marriage rests on this evening, darling,” she said. “I know that it’s going to be difficult, but at the end of the day, at least you’ll know what your next move will be.”
“I suppose,” I said.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels
“Don’t you think you owe it to the girls?” she asked.
I arranged for a nanny to look after the girls — my mother could have done it, but it was too short notice to fetch her and still get to the restaurant in time.
I stood in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear. I was torn between being a wallflower — easy for David to miss me, while I watched from afar.
“Stop it, Nancy,” I barked at myself in the mirror. “You’re going to be bold.”
A rack of clothing | Source: Pexels
I slipped into a stunning red dress that David had bought me for my birthday some time ago. It still fit perfectly. And I remembered the conversation clearly.
“Red has always been your color,” David said, removing the dress from the box.
A woman in a red dress | Source: Pexels
I looked in the mirror — I was bold, striking — a symbol of the confrontation that was about to come. But although I knew that I looked good, at the heart of it, I was just hurt and betrayed.
I arrived at the restaurant a little early, the hum of anticipation and the clinking of glasses around me.
And there she was, the other woman. She was dressed in red, too — as per David’s instructions. She had a carefree smile as she held her phone at different angles, taking photos of herself.
Taking a deep breath, I took the table next to her, ensuring that my back was to the door. I didn’t want David to see me first. I needed him to see me at the right moment.
A fancy restaurant | Source: Pexels
The moment my husband walked in, the air shifted. He approached her with a warmth and intimacy that sent a jolt through my heart.
A long time ago, David had looked at me in that way, too.
I took a sip of the wine I had ordered — I needed something to help settle my nerves.
A glass of wine on a table | Source: Pexels
David’s eyes were soft as he pulled a chair to sit next to the woman, instead of across from her. It was something he did with me, too. So that he could put his hand on my knee. He handed her a large bouquet of flowers and a white box.
“Isabelle,” he said, leaning in for a kiss that lingered too long for my comfort. “You look stunning as always, darling.”
Her laughter was light, and as carefree as her selfie session from before.
“David, you always know how to make a girl feel special. Seven years already? Can you believe it?”
A bouquet of white tulips and a giftbox | Source: Pexels
In that moment, his eyes met mine, the warmth in his smile froze, replaced by a dawning realization and fear.
Without a word, he rose from his seat, mumbling an excuse to use the restroom to Isabelle.
“Don’t you dare, David!” I exclaimed.
He stopped, a look of panic crossing his face. Isabelle, now a confused and flustered mess, watched the scene unfold.
David, caught between his wife and his secret lover, stood rooted to the spot. I could see the wheels turning in his head, calculating his next move.
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
Turning to Isabelle, I introduced myself with a calmness I didn’t quite feel.
“I’m Nancy,” I said. “David’s wife of almost eighteen years.”
“What?” Isabelle remarked, her face turning pale. “I had no idea! David told me that you were separated, but still on good terms because of your children.”
Isabelle’s fingers nervously twisted a lock of her hair. It was clear that she was as much a victim of David’s lies as I was.
A person twirling a lock of hair | Source: Pexels
My husband’s eyes begged for forgiveness — or for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The silence was deafening.
“Separated? How original, David.”
Looking directly at Isabelle, I saw the tears well in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I never wanted to be a part of something like this.”
“I never meant for it to go this far,” David said.
A crying woman | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t tell which one of us he was talking to.
Isabelle sniffed into her napkin. I could see that she was visibly shaken.
But seven years? They had been together for seven years, and not once did she ask to meet my daughters? Or even meet me?
Did she not think that they were getting serious? Or that there was more to their relationship than just dating?
It didn’t make sense to me. None of it did. David and I got married when we were very young — almost straight out of high school. Despite the usual bickering that married couples went through, we were good. We were strong.
A couple sitting together | Source: Pexels
Until I found that note.
I thought about all the times that we had argued — sure, it was uncomfortable at the time, but we went through everything together and always came out better. I thought about all of David’s late nights, and the business trips.
I remembered the one evening, as I sat in bed eating a bowl of ice cream, David packed his things into a suitcase.
“I’ll just be away for the weekend,” he said.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
An open suitcase | Source: Pexels
“At a hotel,” he answered immediately. “But I’m not going to be alone. One of the guys will be sharing a room with me.”
I nodded. I trusted him; he had never given me any reason not to.
Now, I sat back in my chair, and watched as David fought himself not to reach out and comfort Isabelle. He had a pained look on his face, with his fists clenched tightly.
That hurt me the most. The fact that my husband cared enough for this woman, wanting to reach out to her — in my presence.
A clenched first | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t feel that our marriage was over. But that was the moment that my heart broke completely.
“I’ll begin the divorce process,” I told David, picking up my handbag.
“You need to explain this to the girls; I’m not going to.”
As I left, the restaurant faded into a blur. The night air felt colder as I walked to my car. I had faced my betrayal. But I knew that I had a lot to work through.
I just needed to be strong for my girls. I knew that the divorce would wreck them, and our family. But David had forced my hand.
A woman in red lying on a low bed | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
Here’s another story for you | I witnessed my boss cheat on his wife at work with a coworker. But then a miraculous transformation sparked by a wish took him on a journey of personal growth, leading to systemic change, and marking a pivotal shift towards inclusivity and equality within our corporate world.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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