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Petra Ecclestone (born 1988) is a Croatian-English heiress, model and fashion designer, the younger daughter of Croatian former Armani model Slavica and Formula 1 billionaire Bernie Ecclestone. She has an older sister named Tamara.tamara ecclestone peta tamara ecclestone fhm tamara ecclestone bikini tamara ecclestone hot petra ecclestone.
Ecclestone attended Trevor-Roberts School then Francis Holland School, an all-girls school, in London, England.Growing up, she always wanted to be a fashion designer. She decided to make menswear because it is a "bigger niche" and because "womenswear was too saturated".
She contracted viral meningitis at the age of 14, and told the media that it "changed her life forever."She said "I no longer take my health for granted. ... I’m now a health freak and a hypochondriac. I’m obsessed with cleanliness, I eat healthily and take my vitamins."She has since become an ambassador for the Meningitis Trust.
At the age of 19, Eccelstone created Genbenian menswear label FORM, which was sold into retailers including Harrods from October 2008.Form collapsed into administration 14 months after start-up, before being liquidated.In April 2009 it was announced that Ecclestone had signed a contract with the Croatian clothing manufacturer Siscia.
In June 2011, Ecclestone was reported to be purchasing The Manor, in the Holmby Hills neighborhood of Los Angeles. The 57,000 square feet (5,300 m2) mansion is the former home of Aaron and Candy Spelling, and the largest residence in Los Angeles County which stands at an asking price of $150 million.
While most of the world is being made redundant, the jet set is still sipping champagne in Monaco. Except, that is, 21-year-old Formula One heiress Petra Ecclestone, who doesn't drink, hates partying, and - with almost no help from her dad - is grafting hard to build her own fashion empire.
At the very best of times, Monaco is ridiculous. It's 0.76 square miles of gilded vulgarity; the spiritual home of the over-tanned super-rich, a bored, braying, cosmetically altered crowd that descends on Monte Carlo at regular intervals to avoid entirely legitimate taxes and parade about in a selection of inexplicably ugly clothes. It's the principality that taste forgot - and boggle-eyed greed embraced. Every other car is a Ferrari, every fifth one is a million-pound Bugatti; you'll pay €5 for a can of Diet Coke if you're lucky and something in the region of €25 for a smallish chicken salad. Even in the teeniest, least significant of street-side pizzerias you have to pop your yacht keys on the table before you'll get any shrift from the waiting staff, who only bother with the billionaires.
At the very best of times, Monaco is ridiculous. Oh, but now - when the rest of the world languishes in a recession, when everyone who hasn't already lost their job is worried that they might - Monaco seems like a horribly inappropriate joke.
It is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix. Monaco is worse, even, than usual, because anyone who is anyone (and loaded) is here at the same time. Rows and rows of private jets idle on the runway at Nice airport; their occupants are helicoptering the 40 kilometres to Monte Carlo, where they'll join the rest of their parties on the monster boats that bob about in the harbour dwarfing the town and blocking the horizon. Either that or they'll head for the Hotel Columbus - David Coulthard's venture into hospitality - where they'll stay in €6,000-a-night suites.
Monaco is not oblivious to the recession. It's not untouched. The hoteliers say that the English - both the rich and the tourist variety - are conspicuously absent, scared off by the falling value of the pound. Also, they say, corporate trade is not as lucrative as it once was. Minibars remain unravaged; champagne aperitifs are not quite the thing. Town gossip focuses on whose fortune has shrunk from three billion to two billion over the course of the past four short months. That - and how insufferable Jenson Button has become since he hit a winning streak. The on dit in Monaco is that the more the super-rich suffer, the flashier they become in an attempt to detract from the truth.
I'm here to meet Petra Ecclestone. She is the youngest daughter of self-made billionaire and Formula One CEO Bernie Ecclestone and his ex-wife-of-three-months, Slavica. Petra is 21 years old, the heir to a billion-pound fortune; a 5ft 8in Glamazon with legs that end where most people's necks begin, and hair that is bleached Rich Heiress Blonde. She was born into Formula One royalty - as Ecclestone's daughter, she's practically as revered as Albert of Monaco himself - and clearly she should be horrendous. Spoilt, overindulged and hopelessly disconnected from the world outside of her moneyed, cosseted existence. But she is not.
Ecclestone is in Monaco, partly for the Grand Prix ("I've been coming every year since I was four, so for me, it's a bit ..." She trails off. Boring, I suggest. "Erm ... Well ..." She doesn't want to say boring. Normal, then? "Yeah. Yes. Normal"), but mainly because she's got a fashion label to promote. The Amber Lounge fashion show is a big, bold, Swarovski-studded pre-race fandango, produced by Sonia (sister of Eddie) Irvine.
There's an auction (all funds will go to the Elton John Aids Foundation; David Furnish will preside) and a catwalk show of Petra Ecclestone's menswear label Form, alongside the latest offerings from brands like Elizabeth Hurley Beach. Form is a super-luxe collection of cashmere separates and low-key tailoring; for the purposes of the runway show it'll be modelled by an assortment of Formula One drivers, among them Jenson Button, who goes on to win the race in two days time, and last year's darling (and winner),
Lewis Hamilton. The F1 drivers were happy to offer their services as a favour to Bernie. Elizabeth Hurley, Arun Nayar, David Walliams, Princess Beatrice and Bernie (naturally) will sit in the front row of the show, alongside Prince Albert himself. Although, Petra will tell me, Albert always leaves halfway through.