Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Model This!

Hard Liquor; Soft Holes just reposted a link from Reality No-Show about her friend's new site (are you following?) The Chosen. Made by someone who works at a modeling agency, it's a compilation of the best of the worst random submissions. As someone who prefers my enjoyment of the humilation of others in photographic medium, obviously I think this blog is fantastic. It also took me on a trip down a little cul de sac of dreams I like to call Memory Lane.... (wavy lines wavy lines wavy lines).....

In college, I interned at a modeling agency where my main duty was to update the models' binders with new clippings. The one time I got a really exciting assignment was to help this 15 year old girl from Kansas go around to all her appointments for the day - basically the challenge in America's Next Top Model where they put the girls in an unfamiliar city with some product-placement-sponsored GPS phone and have them audition for various clients. My initial understanding of the assignment was that I was just there to act as the tour guide, since I could her navigate on the subway and around the city. However, it became clear to me after a few of the appointments that all the photographers and casting people immediately assumed I was there to act as the agency's watch guard for the girl to make sure that no one would put this poor underage girl in uncompromising photos or situations, and that was actually the more likely reason I was assigned to accompany the girl.

Her last appointment of the day was at a photographer's studio on the lower east side to get shots to add to her portfolio. It was in a mostly barren tenement apartment with no furniture except a vanity table with makeup, hair gel, and a clothing rack. The photographer made a big fuss about how he didn't want to upset me by picking out an outfit that was too revealing because the agency had sent over a watchdog (me), and decided upon a sequin shirt and nude tights over a thong (no pants) as her outfit #1. Who knows how much less clothing might have comprised the outfit if I hadn't been there to intimidate people into thinking the agency was actually looking out for this girl by sending along a crummy intern to help her out.

The thing about models is that they seem much older than they actually are because they're very worldly for their age, and are astonishingly self-aware. When my young ward put on her assigned outfit, she came out the bathroom, pointed to a large mole on her thigh that showed through the nude tights, and said matter of factly, "sorry, this won't work." The photographer agreed; the mole was a deal-breaker, and more modest opaque black tights were substituted. I sighed relief.

Point is, the thing about back tights is that they have to be really really thick to cover up moles or ungainly tribal tattoos:

No comments: