Giant bowls of almonds and dried cranberries-the same essentials she requests in My Time Now, MTV’s 2010 documentary about her-wait on a nearby coffee table, and on a flatscreen TV, the World Cup plays on mute. Meanwhile, she’s got even bigger plans.Īfter the photo shoot wraps, Nicki changes from her body-squeezing getup into pink velour sweatpants and a cotton T-shirt-the kind with pesky black hanger straps that won’t stay hidden. And of course, she assures me, “The rhymes will be tight.” Nicki is one of the world’s biggest stars, but there’s a lingering sense among her followers that her career will be incomplete until she releases a classic rap album. Drake will contribute, too, though “he’s unpredictable,” she says. Luke, Ester Dean, Boi-1da and Detail, and she’d like to get Rihanna in the mix. With two platinum albums under her belt, she’s already mythologizing her in-progress third, The Pink Print, describing it as “the blueprint for female rappers to come.” The album’s set to feature hit-makers like Dr. Nicki keeps her personal video cameras rolling often these days at 31, she’s entering a phase she’ll want documented for the archives. The swarm includes a handful of stylists from her glam team, her right-hand man (and rumored longtime boyfriend) Safaree Samuels and a videographer taping the scene from the front. When the final walk back to the set comes, it’s pure theater: sauntering in a red leather bra and a skintight black skirt, she’s aided by a procession of helpers tidying small details. We’re at the tail end of a long photo shoot, during which she’s been shuttling back and forth between the set and an adjacent dressing room. Between takes, she’s uncharacteristically reclined, her tiny bare feet dislodged from a pair of pointy heels. Then the song plays again-French Montana’s Nicki-featuring dancehall single “Freaks” is blasting from the speakers on repeat.įlesh-and-blood Nicki is much more subdued than her recorded self, splayed wordlessly across a leather couch. Her voice dips into a booming, deep register: “MontAAAAAna!” she menaces, like a father who’s just discovered contraband in his son’s bedroom. Nicki Minaj’s trademark cackle echoes across the room, bouncing off the glass walls and 20-foot ceiling of a giant photo studio on Sunset Boulevard. From the magazine: ISSUE 93, on stands August 26th and up for preorder now.
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