A Day in the Life of a Model: WORST DAY EVER!

Shalom!! I haven’t had time to catch up with you all properly as the last week or so has been crazy madness! (which is good of course, we like crazy madness as opposed to the other extreme: lounging in jogging bottoms crying about lack of castings). Let me talk you through a horrific day I had the other week…

It started out OK. I had a last minute casting, which was a shame as I had my Glammonitor article to write. However, work is work so I headed out to the overground.

As I approached Camden, where the casting was, I got a voicemail from a panicked booker. CASTING CANCELLED!

Castings get cancelled, but to cancel it at the last minute when you know that the model will have left and is ten minutes away is a truly ar**holey thing to do. I hate it when clients see the time of models as less valued then their own. It makes us feel like second class citizens.

So I headed home, waiting 20 minutes for the next overground train because Sod’s Law.

Then I waited for the cab to pick me up and take me to a shoot for a pet’s charity. Now, I LOVE animals, and my ambition as a teen was to present (now sadly defunct) Pet Rescue. I jumped at the chance to help out animals in need and pictured myself looking like Mariah Carey cradling puppies, bonding with one particularly sad case and insisting on adopting it.

Everyone was very sweet and I’m delighted to take part in a campaign, but really…if you want to make your shop look glam, shooting it in the charity shop with lots of customers meandering round, or on the gum-strewn pavement, isn’t the best idea!


Then me and the other model headed off to a maternity wear ecomm casting. I walked in and gave everyone my best smile, and they seemed really lovely. The bump was strapped on, and I jokingly said, “Don’t show my boyfriend’s Mum!” They giggled, and I will always regret my next move. “She’s a Jewish Mama!”


“What does that mean?” Asked the stylist, her face suddenly poker straight.

“Errr. She’s Jewish, My Jewish Mama….always asking for Grandkids…” I said, digging that hole ever deeper.

“That’s a stereotype,” replied the stylist, “I’m Jewish.” My face got steadily redder and redder and the room got quieter and tenser.

Then followed the most awkward 30 seconds of my life, trying to pose perkily with a bump whilst praying for the ground to swallow me up. Obviously it was said with love and my mum-in-law is always calling me her Jewish Mama and asking for grandkids daily, but I do have to remember to be careful – family in-jokes don’t always translate outside the home. And to never, ever show that stylist this article I wrote in a national online magazine on How to Deal with Your Jewish Mama….

I apologised, got in trouble with my agency and spent a whole week replaying the scene and not mentioning the ‘JM word’. I’ve learnt my lesson, and banished this particular Day in the Life of a Model to the overcrowded ‘lesson learnt, move on’ section of my brain.

Rebecca x

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