A Day in the Life of a Model
I just had to share with you my day so far. It was typical of an atypical day in the life of a model.
So it started with a 9am casting. I really do feel that the pay off for having to race around London to put yourself forward for jobs that you’re probably going to be rejected for is…that they tend to be during the day. One tends to miss commuter trains.
So, off to my 9am casting I trudged, to be met at reception with “oh so-and-so’s not in yet.” The thing is with modelling – YOU have to be punctual and Janice Dickenson will be incredulous with you otherwise. But no one else has to be punctual.
So eventually I was seen and immediately asked to try on an outfit. So far so good. I was then asked “if you don’t mind, put the white vest on without a bra on underneath.” The top was very sheer. I panicked – my instinct is to just comply with everyone but really – are my nipples really central to an ecom shot? And, if they are, do I really want to be booked on the basis of owning two nipples?
So, bearing my own words about saying no because it’s your own body, I said no. Hooray for standing up for myself! The client then asked if I’d wear a barely sheer black top with no bra. I said OK. Perhaps they wanted to check that my breasts don’t dangle below my waistband? There was nowhere private to change. They took some pictures. I felt a bit put out by it all.
Feeling doubtful as to the likelihood of being booked for my job, but not entirely sure as to whether I cared (I would like the money, but not the nipple-centred modelling) off I trotted to my next casting. A long queue of girls awaited me.
I stood in the line, concealing my dread. I had been warned that, in the casting, I would ‘have to try on a leotard.’ I worried that it was a thong leotard, or a Miley Cyrus-type particularly vagina-revealing one.
You see, every model must keep their nethers waxed and preened and, well, I can sometimes let such pressing matters fall by the wayside between a relationship (long-term, as you can probably guess) job, writing, socialising, family and, well, wanting to do anything other with my time than pay someone too much money to pour molten wax on my vagina. I promise that I am good and do it about every 4-5 weeks but I was going to get wax later this week! And I’d stayed round my boyfriend’s so I couldn’t really do any last-resort epilation. I should have got it before this casting! ARGH!
May I just add that in the 3 weeks of smoothness, post wax, I never have to wear revealing clothes/thongotards.
So anyway, I stood in the queue, quietly envisioning the client telling me off for having pubes.
Luckily, a fellow model and friend who shall remain nameless but knows who she is went in before me, and came out saying it was a ‘FULL BODY SUIT’ and that she had had exactly the same worry! Now all I needed to worry about was how on earth to rock a full body suit!
Right, so I went in and was met by a row of smiling faces, who immediately made me laugh. They seemed to like my smiling, and told me to try on a body suit.
These weren’t sexy body suits.
These were basically gimp suits.
Fortunately in my casting, there was a hole for the face…
I slid my body into the ill-fitting suit of spandex and emerged from the changing room, where it was pinned tighter to me. Feeling slightly self-conscious, I THINK I did a David Brent-style wiggle dance as I emerged from behind the screen…
…Which thankfully made them laugh. If I’d tried that move in Paris I’d have been booted out of the building.
So what now? Well, I had to be photographer “Smiling – but not a full smile. Smile and let it fall, yet retaining the joy and warmth in your face.
“Wait! When you smile, your eyes disappear.” (Thanks, mate).
“Do your big smile, let it fall, then WOW! open your eyes wide. On the count of three.”
So there I was, for each shot, looking like a Power Ranger, smiling, letting it fall, then WOW! Opening my eyes whilst having a sexy but ‘not posed’ body. At least there were no pubes!
It doesn’t actually end there. I got dressed again, and they took a few close ups of my face doing the SMILE DON’T SMILE OPEN YOUR EYES!
I realised, when I’d left the room, that my shirt was inside out.
This really is a fairly typical day for me.