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 Married the Woman My Father Chose for Me — On Our Wedding Night, She Shocked Me by Saying, ‘From Now On, You Must Do Everything I Tell You’
Forced into an arranged marriage to save my family’s business, I expected awkward small talk on my wedding night. But then Adriana gave me an order: “From now on, you must do everything I tell you.” Was this a joke? No. It was a power play — and if I refused, my family would lose everything.
“Son, I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was any other way,” my father said, his voice lacking its usual commanding tone.
A man seated at a desk in a corner office | Source: Midjourney
“You’re certain the only way to save the business is for me to marry some woman I’ve never met?” I couldn’t keep the disbelief from my voice.
He sighed. “Adriana is Victor’s daughter. The merger with his company is the only thing that can save us now. And he’s… traditional. He wants to unite the families.”
“So I’m just a bargaining chip?” The words tasted bitter.
“James, please understand—”
“No, Dad. I understand perfectly.”
An unhappy man in an office | Source: Midjourney
“You built this company, made all the decisions that led to this point, and now I have to clean up your mess by selling myself like some medieval prince.”
His face fell. “Just meet Adriana before you decide.”
I wanted to refuse. But the desperation in my father’s eyes stopped me.
“Fine,” I conceded. “I’ll meet her. But I’m not promising anything.”
A serious-looking man | Source: Midjourney
We met in a restaurant a few days later. Adriana was breathtakingly beautiful with a voice like honey and eyes that assessed everything in seconds.
“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me,” she said as she took her seat. “This situation is… unconventional, but I think we can make it work.” She smiled faintly and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “Let’s get better acquainted first. What would you like to know about me, James?”
A smiling woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
The conversation flowed freely after that. Adriana was intelligent, witty, and surprisingly easy to talk to. By the time we parted ways, I found myself rethinking my opposition.
“She’s incredible,” I told my father the next day.
Relief washed over his face. “So you’ll do it?”
I hesitated. Something still felt wrong, but seeing the hope in my father’s eyes…
“Yes,” I finally said. “I’ll marry Adriana.”
A man in an office smiling faintly | Source: Midjourney
Our wedding was a business transaction disguised as a celebration. Corporate partners filled the pews, the vows felt like contract terms, and even the kiss seemed negotiated — brief, proper, for show.
The reception dragged on until finally, we were alone in the presidential suite of a five-star hotel.
Adriana kicked off her heels and sat on the edge of the massive bed. I adjusted my tie, unsure of what came next in this strange arrangement.
A man adjusting his tie | Source: Pexels
Adriana locked eyes with me. “From now on, you must do everything I tell you.”
“Excuse me?” I laughed, certain she was joking. “Right. And what’s your first command, Your Highness?”
Her expression didn’t change. “I’m hungry. Go get me a burger from the McDonald’s on Grant Street. Walk there.”
“Adriana, it’s almost midnight. Grant Street is nearly two miles away.”
An incredulous man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m aware.” Her smile was cold. “Better get going.”
I stared at her, waiting for the punchline. It never came.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious, James. My father only agreed to this marriage because your father promised you’d do whatever I wanted. That was the deal. So, you can either be my servant… or watch your family go bankrupt.”
A smirking woman | Source: Midjourney
I was stunned. Within a few hours, Adriana had transformed from a witty, easygoing woman into an authoritative stranger. One I couldn’t refuse without risking it all.
“Fine. One burger coming up.”
In the elevator, I pulled out my phone and called a taxi. I might be trapped in this marriage, but I wouldn’t be completely powerless.
A man’s finger pressing an elevator button | Source: Pexels
The next morning set the tone for what would become my new normal. Adriana woke me at 6 a.m.
“Press my blue suit,” she instructed. “Then make coffee. Black, one sugar.”
“I’m not your butler,” I protested.
She looked at me with those cool eyes. “No, you’re my husband. Which means you’re whatever I need you to be.”
A woman smiling smugly | Source: Midjourney
Each day brought new demands. Wash her car by hand. Pick up her dry cleaning. Massage her feet after work. Each task was more demeaning than the last.
“Why are you doing this?” I finally asked one evening as I polished her collection of designer shoes.
“Because I can,” she replied simply. “What could be better than having a man who caters to my every need?”
I continued the task in silence, but my mind was racing.
A foot in a high-heeled boot | Source: Pexels
She thought she was breaking me, but she was teaching me instead. Every demand revealed something about her routines and her weaknesses.
When I couldn’t take it anymore, I went to my father.
“She’s turned me into her personal servant,” I confessed.
His face fell. “I had no idea, son. But the contract with Victor…”
“Can’t be broken without bankrupting us,” I finished for him. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be,” I replied, a plan already forming. “I’ll handle Adriana.”
A determined man | Source: Midjourney
The tiny wireless cameras were easy to install. I put them everywhere: the living room, the kitchen, her study, our bedroom.
For two weeks, I collected evidence of Adriana ordering me around like a dog, threatening to destroy my family if I disobeyed, and laughing on the phone with her friends about how she had me “completely under control.”
All while her Instagram portrayed us as the perfect couple. “Power duo,” she called us in her captions. If only her followers knew.
A woman taking a selfie | Source: Midjourney
The breaking point came on a rainy Tuesday night.
“I want sushi,” she announced from the couch. “From Akira. You’ll walk there.”
“That’s three miles away,” I pointed out.
“So? Take an umbrella.” She didn’t even look up from her phone.
“No,” I said simply.
The word hung in the air between us. She slowly raised her head, eyes narrowing.
A woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney
“What did you say?”
“I said no, Adriana. I’m not going.”
She stood, her face flushing with anger. “You don’t say no to me. Ever. Or have you forgotten what happens if you don’t play along?”
“Go ahead,” I challenged. “Call your father. Tell him how disappointed you are.”
“You know I will.” She reached for her phone. “And your family will be finished.”
A glaring woman | Source: Midjourney
I smiled. “I don’t think so.”
Her fingers paused over the screen. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Call him,” I urged. “Please. I insist.”
Confusion flickered across her face, but she made the call, putting it on speaker.
“Daddy? We have a problem. James is being difficult. I think we need to reconsider—”
“Adriana.” Her father’s voice was ice cold. “What the hell have you been doing?”
A cell phone | Source: Pexels
She froze. “What do you mean?”
“James sent me videos. Dozens of them. I had no idea this was what you had in mind when you said you wanted him to do everything you said! Is this how I raised you to behave? Like a tyrant?”
The color drained from her face as she looked at me, finally understanding.
“You recorded me?” she whispered.
I nodded. “Every moment. Every demand.”
A man with crossed arms | Source: Midjourney
“Adriana,” her father continued, “you’ve handed your husband enough blackmail material to destroy our family’s reputation, and he made it clear he’ll use it, too. You’re getting divorced. Those were his conditions: a divorce from you that leaves the business arrangement with his father intact. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy,” she managed, her voice small.
When the call ended, she turned to me, eyes pleading. “Please, you can’t do this to me! It will ruin my image if we divorce.”
A teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels
I smiled. This was an opportunity to teach her a valuable lesson.
“I’ll consider staying,” I replied. “But only if you obey my demands.”
Outrage and fury flickered in her eyes, but she nodded.
For the next two weeks, Adriana got a taste of her own medicine. I didn’t go nearly as far as she had, but I made sure she understood what it felt like to be controlled.
A downtrodden woman | Source: Midjourney
“Fetch my coffee,” I would say. “And remember, two sugars.”
She would comply, her jaw tight, her eyes burning with hatred.
Meanwhile, I had my lawyers working on divorce papers. When they were ready, I left them on the kitchen counter for her to find.
“What’s this?” she asked, picking them up.
A woman holding an envelope | Source: Midjourney
“Divorce papers,” I replied calmly. “Our marriage is over.”
“But, you said you’d stay if I obeyed you!” Her voice shook. “You lied to me!”
“Yes,” I agreed, “and I hope you learned something from it. We might’ve actually been able to make this work, Adriana, if you hadn’t used that business deal as a way to enslave me. Pack your things and get out of my apartment.”
A satisfied man | Source: Midjourney
“And before you go,” I added, “post on your Instagram that we’re separating amicably, by mutual agreement.”
“And if I don’t?” she challenged.
I held up my phone. “Then these videos go public.”
An hour later, her perfectly crafted post appeared. “After much reflection, James and I have decided to part ways. We remain committed to our families’ shared business interests and wish each other well.”
Social media icons on a phone screen | Source: Pexels
The door closed behind her, and for the first time since our wedding day, I could breathe freely again.
This arranged marriage had cost me months of dignity, but it had taught me something valuable: no contract, family obligation, or financial concern was worth surrendering control of my life.
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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