At the height of his misfortune, Sascha Bailey was so distraught that he considered taking his own life.
But Internet chat rooms convinced him that there was another way out of his despair: he could transform himself into a woman.
Sascha's vision was to become “like a real Barbie,” with voluptuous curves and long blonde hair.
Did the 29-year-old son of renowned photographer David Bailey and his fourth model wife Catherine spend his life believing he was trapped in the wrong body?
Sascha Bailey (left) was so desperate that he considered taking his own life
David Bailey, Catherine Bailey and son Sascha Bailey in 1999 at the Barbican Art Gallery
David Bailey (l.) and his son Sascha Bailey take part in the preview party for the Royal Academy of Arts' 2018 summer exhibition
He insists this is not the case. Instead, thoughts of becoming a woman began to surface as the art curator went through a volatile and difficult marriage and became so deeply depressed that he could barely get out of bed.
“The transition was a way to kill myself without dying because I was so unhappy with my life,” he tells the Mail exclusively. “I thought if I could do this one thing it could change everything, I could reinvent myself as a completely new person.”
Sascha was so convinced that this was the right course of action and anxious to speed up the process that he visited a private doctor who confirmed he was transgender and gave him a prescription for female hormones as a prelude to gender confirmation surgery issued.
But 15 months later, Sascha sits in front of me, not as a woman, but as the handsome young man he always was. Supported by his family and the love of a new partner, 32-year-old photographer Lucy Brown, he was saved from a life-changing and, he now believes, potentially ruinous decision.
To say he is deeply grateful is an understatement. In fact, his enormous relief is why he speaks with extraordinary candor on this deeply personal issue and is determined to use his experience for what he believes is the greater good.
He's a pleasant company with a disarming smile, but you can still sense his vulnerability.
“I feel like the overdiagnosis of gender dysphoria is a big problem,” says Sascha. “Of course it's very real for some, but I think there are a lot of people, like me, who aren't actually transsexual, they're just incredibly unhappy and transitioning is a way to evolve into a new person, which is what they believe in .” will fix everything.
“This new person will have neither the old problems nor the old social expectations.” But of course that’s not really true.”
Sascha's ten-year marriage to the Japanese lawyer Mimi Nishikawa, ten years his senior, ended last year
Over the course of his long career, David Bailey has photographed everything from supermodels to queens
Sascha's vision was to become “like a real Barbie,” with voluptuous curves and long blonde hair
Sascha knows that his brave words could make him a target for trolls. “But no one can say it’s not my lived experience,” he says. “I’m just speaking from the heart about something I know.”
Of course, all of this feels far from a glamorous upbringing.
Sascha's father David, now 86, counts the famous beauties Catherine Deneuve and Marie Helvin among his ex-wives and has a portfolio of extraordinary fashion and celebrity portraits. Sascha's mother Catherine, to whom David is still married today, is also a celebrated model.
Together with his older siblings Fenton and Paloma, Sascha grew up in a privileged bohemian society between London and the Bailey country estate in Devon. The family is close.
“It was fantastic growing up with my parents – they were both inspiring people,” he says, recalling a household where celebrities were no stranger. “I remember Ronnie Wood telling me to tie people's shoelaces at an event and shoe designer Manolo Blahnik kicking me, which was well deserved because it caused me to knock someone to the ground,” he smiles.
As a dyslexic, Sascha received a private education at a London special school, which he left at the age of 16. Within a year, he was signed by the renowned Storm modeling agency after inheriting his mother's fine bone structure and brunette complexion.
At this point he was already living with an older girlfriend. “I was in a rebellious phase and just wanted to go out and do my own thing,” he says.
Then, at the age of 19, after returning from several months modeling in Japan, he met lawyer Mimi Nishikawa through a mutual friend. She was 20 years older than him, but that was no barrier to instant attraction.
“She was magnetic and charming, and we just bonded,” he says. “I think we were both a little lonely too, and I think we found each other.”
Of the age difference, he says, “It did raise a few eyebrows, but honestly that part was never a problem for me and still is.”
David was awarded a CBE by the Queen in 2001 for his services to the arts and photographed the monarch for her birthday in 2014 (together 2010).
The photographer (pictured in 1984 with his former wife Marie Helvin) defined the Swinging Sixties with his iconic black and white images of pop stars, models, politicians and royalty
In any case, the relationship developed surprisingly quickly: within three months, the couple married at the Camden registry office with only two witnesses – Sascha's best friend and Mimi's roommate – despite the concerns of friends and family.
“A lot of people told me it was a bad idea, but when you're in a situation like that, you have blinders on,” he says. “I know people were worried, even though my dad laughed and said, 'Do whatever you want.' He was married around the same age, so what could he say?
The marriage was initially quite happy and the couple settled in Whitechapel, east London.
However, over time it became more and more toxic.
“It got to the point where it was pretty terrible,” he says. “There were a lot of problems, and on top of that she just wasn't very nice.”
He became increasingly unhappy and isolated and could no longer confide in his family and friends. “When you're in a situation like that, you metaphorically put yourself in a cage because you come up with all these reasons why you can't leave,” he says. “In a way, you’re enslaving yourself.”
At the end of 2019, Sascha suggested that the couple move to Japan for a fresh start. They settled on the outskirts of Tokyo, but the situation continued to deteriorate.
Amazingly, in September 2022, he confesses that he was so unhappy that he thought about taking his own life.
“I wrote a note,” he reveals. “I still have it on my phone.” He changed his mind at the last minute. “After that I couldn’t get out of bed for ages,” he says.
It was at this point that the idea of gender reassignment began to crystallize. “I was already thinking about it and the idea just kept growing,” he says. “It became this way of not having to kill myself, but becoming someone new.”
An escape, if you will. This possible “solution” was reinforced in the Internet chat rooms that Sascha frequented, where gender transition was discussed as a ticket to a new life.
“It's the ultimate way to solve your problems because you're told that everything about you boils down to this one thing that's wrong, and if you can fix that one thing, everything will be perfect,” as Sascha puts it .
After making the decision to transition at the end of September 2022, he felt liberated.
After meeting a psychiatrist at a private clinic in Japan, with whom he communicated via an Internet translation forum, Sascha was diagnosed as transgender
He admits that his experience was at the extreme end of a society where, if you have money, you can pay to make your dream come true without asking too many probing questions. Pictured: (L-R) Guest, Sascha Bailey and Jerry Hall attend the launch of Georgia May Jagger's new skin care line “MAY Botanicals” at 1 Hotel Mayfair on October 17, 2023
“When I decided to be trans, I felt great because I felt like I was moving towards a goal, something achievable.” If I went down that path – taking the hormones, having the surgery – then I would end up where I needed to be. “When you’re that lost, it’s groundbreaking.”
After meeting a psychiatrist at a private clinic in Japan, with whom he communicated via an Internet translation forum, Sascha was diagnosed as transgender.
“It took ten minutes,” he says. “He referred me to a surgeon and I was given a pack of HRT (hormone replacement therapy) patches and sent on my way.”
“I'm never one to do things by halves, and my plan was to go pretty hard on the operation,” he says.
He imagined becoming a stately blonde. “The complete Barbie cliché,” as he now puts it, adding: “It’s really ironic; You’re not allowed to conform to stereotypes unless you’re trans.”
It is no small irony that the fact that things suddenly came to a head in his marriage prevented him from continuing down this path: just days after the clinic visit, Sascha fled to London.
“I really felt like something catastrophic would happen if I didn’t go,” he says. “So I just got out of there.” “I had a 'duffle bag' in a cupboard that Mimi didn't know about, and the next morning I just grabbed the bag, went straight to the airport and paid for a plane ticket to London at the terminal. “
He sought refuge with his parents and says that they, along with everyone else he knew, were “incredibly supportive” of him when he revealed his gender reassignment plans: “They were extremely supportive.”
“My mom was a little confused but definitely supportive, as was my brother, and my sister was super supportive,” he says.
“That's wonderful on one level, but I feel like that's a different issue – it's almost like society has a gun in its head because if they don't support it, the only option is rejection.” Either you are you for it, or you are transphobic; There is no middle ground.'
In fact, Sascha's plans had to be put on hold as he was anxious not to start hormone therapy until he could be sure he had a second month's supply from the NHS and struggled to get an appointment.
“So I guess you could say the slowness of the NHS helped save me,” he says with a smile. Once he was home and had space to think, Sascha came to the realization that changing his external identity would not resolve the complex feelings he had inside. He was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder due to his experiences in his marriage.
He says he realized two things: “First, I couldn't really know what it felt like to be a woman because I'd never been one, so the idea was that I should be like, 'Oh, me “I feel like a woman.” absurd.
“And the second thing I realized was that I didn't really need to change how I looked on the outside because of how I felt on the inside. I just had to come to terms with it.'
None of this was easy: having been imbued with what Sascha calls “gender euphoria” – the feeling of having a “solution” to his unhappiness, he now had to face the real world. “It meant I actually had to face my problems, and it blew me away,” he says.
It is fair to say that the process is not yet complete. While Sascha is doing “much better,” he still feels pretty lost, he admits.
“Going through any traumatic experience takes time,” he says. “I also have to deal with the fact that ten years have passed, I lost my home, we built an art company together and that too is over.”
But family and friends are giving him time to lick his wounds.
“I live with my parents at the moment and they are really understanding,” he says.
This also applies to his new partner Lucy, to whom he gives loving, unbiased support. “Lucy saved my life in many ways,” he says. “She's such a fantastic person.” They're due to move into their own space soon and he plans to curate another art exhibition soon.
Above all, he is glad that he did not take the first tempting steps on the way to becoming a woman.
“Thank God I didn't take the hormones because within a few months you risk infertility and the thought that I wouldn't be able to have children is devastating,” he says.
“But it also shines a light on the uncomfortable reality that we are asking children aged 15 and 16 to decide for themselves whether they want children or not, and that is simply not right.”
He admits that his experience was at the extreme end of a society where, if you have money, you can pay to make your dream come true without asking too many probing questions. Still, he believes his trip will resonate in Britain, where more and more young people are being diagnosed as transgender. “I wish everyone could just breathe,” he says.
“I think we'll look back on this time and be shocked at how quickly we ran away with all this stuff.” “We need to give people space and time to talk and explore their feelings before sending them to the medical Push away.”
He also hopes his story can provide optimism to anyone struggling. “I still have a lot to do,” he says. “But after everything I’ve been through, I’m so happy to be rebuilding my life.”
For confidential support call the Samaritans on 116 123.