The Supermodel Who Rejected Stephen Curry—Where Is She Now?
When you hear the name Stephen Curry, you think of NBA championships, three-point records, and a legacy that has changed the game of basketball. But before he became a global sports icon, Curry was just another teenager at Charlotte Christian School—one with a quiet crush on a girl who seemed untouchable: Isabella Rossi.
Isabella Rossi was not your average high school senior. Discovered at a local mall at fifteen, she was already traveling for modeling assignments in New York and Milan by the time she could drive. At school, she was a legend—poised, elegant, and otherworldly. While classmates fretted about exams and prom dates, Isabella was balancing homework with photo shoots for Vogue and runway walks for Chanel.
For a young Stephen Curry, she was the epitome of everything he wasn’t: worldly, confident, and already living a dream. “I was just Dell’s son, a skinny kid who could shoot but was still figuring everything else out,” Curry once recalled to his wife, Aisha, during a rare afternoon spent flipping through old yearbooks. It was there, between faded photos and signatures, that Isabella’s image reappeared—along with the memory of the day he nervously asked her to the spring dance. She turned him down, kindly but firmly. “I won’t be here,” she had said. “I’m leaving for Paris tomorrow for a photo shoot with Vogue.” For Curry, it was a moment of adolescent heartbreak, but also a lesson in humility and ambition. “Sometimes you’re just not in the same league. And that’s okay. It pushed me to work harder,” he said.
After high school, their lives diverged completely. Curry went on to college basketball stardom, then NBA superstardom. Isabella, meanwhile, became one of the defining faces of international fashion. For nearly a decade, she was everywhere—gracing the covers of Vogue, walking for Dior and Versace, photographed at the Met Gala and on yachts in St. Barts. Then, around 2015, she vanished from the public eye. Rumors swirled: burnout, secret marriage, spiritual retreat. The truth was far more profound.
A year ago, Curry’s curiosity got the better of him. Late one night, he searched Isabella’s name and discovered her story had taken an unexpected turn. A small news article from Asheville, North Carolina, revealed her new life as the founder of Elara’s House, a nonprofit hospice for children with rare, life-limiting genetic disorders. The article explained that Isabella’s younger sister, Elara, had died at sixteen from Niemann-Pick disease—a rare, devastating condition. The loss shattered her. Disillusioned with the superficiality of the fashion world, Isabella sold her penthouse, liquidated her assets, and invested everything in creating a sanctuary for children and families facing the unimaginable.
Elara’s House was not a sterile hospital, but a place of light and laughter. Isabella took no salary, living in a small apartment above the facility. She worked from dawn till dusk—holding children, comforting parents, organizing birthday parties and memory-making trips. “Isabella doesn’t just fund this place. She is this place,” said a local principal. But the sanctuary was struggling. The original endowment was nearly gone, and the foundation relied on small donations to survive.
Curry, moved by her commitment, decided to act. Through his and Aisha’s Eat. Learn. Play. Foundation, he commissioned a quiet investigation into Elara’s House. The findings were sobering: Isabella had poured over $15 million of her own money into the nonprofit, and nearly every dollar went directly to patient care. But the facility faced a looming deficit and needed millions to survive.
Curry organized a gala in Charlotte, inviting Isabella under the guise of honoring unsung heroes in community health. Initially reluctant, she was convinced by her staff that the event could save Elara’s House. On the night of the event, Isabella stood in a glittering ballroom, feeling like a ghost from another life. When Curry took the stage, their eyes met—a brief, electric moment bridging two decades and two very different journeys.
Curry’s speech recounted their high school days and Isabella’s gentle rejection. “At the time, I thought it was about me not being good enough. But I was wrong. Sometimes people say no to one path because they are being called to a much more important one.” He told the audience about Isabella’s transformation from supermodel to sanctuary founder, and then announced a $10 million endowment for Elara’s House, along with funding for a new research wing at Duke Children’s Hospital—the Elara Rossi Center for Genetic Hope.
The room erupted in applause. Later, in a quiet corner, Isabella asked Curry why he had done all this. “Your rejecting me wasn’t the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said. “Your rejecting me was the best thing that ever happened to them.”
Today, Elara’s House is a thriving model for pediatric palliative care, and the Elara Rossi Center is at the forefront of genetic research. Isabella still spends her days at the hospice—not as a celebrity, but as “big sister,” offering comfort and love. Stephen Curry continues to add to his basketball legacy, but often says that honoring Isabella was his most important victory.
The supermodel who once rejected a future legend didn’t disappear—she transformed her grief into a force for good. And the boy who was rejected learned that true greatness is measured not by what you gain, but by what you give away. Sometimes, the greatest gift another person can give you is the freedom to become who you were truly meant to be.
