NEW YORK — From the beginning, modeling was always meant to be a business proposition, not a flight of fancy or a personal indulgence. And so, fashion was a remarkable, lucrative ride for the woman who came to be known simply as Iman: the model whose swan’s neck made a world-weary editor swoon, the Black woman who dominated a runway with a walk that was more grace than va-va-voom, the refugee who arrived in New York from 7,000 miles away — an African woman wrapped in the sexist, racist and absurdist cliches that this country still attaches to the multitudes from the continent, the Middle East or our southern border.