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I'm a Model. You Know What I Mean?
May. 15th, 2004 04:46 pmYesterday was almost a total write-off. I went to the Beaverbrook at 12:30 for what I thought was a walk-through of the modelling line-up. But no, it was much more complicated than that. The models were all having their hair done by stylists. "But I can't go to the gym after I have my hair styled," I said to my designer Danielle.
She looked horrified. "No! You can't go to the gym! You have to stay here and get dressed and in makeup."
"But the show isn't until 7:00."
"I know, but this is the only way everyone can get their hair done in time."
So I managed to beg off long enough to go home and get my contact lenses, my makeup, and a couple of books. It was going to be a long, boring day.
And I was right.
I'm unsure as to why anyone thought it would be a good idea to have models sit around in their outfits, makeup, and updos for over six hours. Clothes wrinkle. Makeup smears. Hair droops.
And it was hot in the hotel, with the dozens and dozens of giggling girls sashaying back and forth, going out for smoke breaks, and going to the nearby bar to get liquored up. People were eating fast food in their haute couture, which seems like a ridiculous risk to me. And yes, the outfits were getting more and more wrinkled as time passed. Models took their clothes off to get them steamed and wrinkle-free, then put them back on again to traipse around for a couple more hours.
Gah!
The show itself went pretty well, though. Stagefright abounded, but no one fell on the catwalk or passed out backstage. Clothing ranged from the utterly trampy (think Barb Wire) to the anachronistic (think Gone With the Wind gowns with denim). I wore a relatively conservative pinstriped skirt. It was very short, with the slit on the left thigh at crotch height. Danielle claims it is a business skirt, but it's the sort of business skirt I'd expect to see in a Benny Hill skit. It's made for bending over at the hip to pick up something a leering boss has "accidentally" dropped.
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elanya wore a really nice outfit: a two-piece dress in leather, embroidered chiffon, and taffeta (I think). The top was a crop top which came up over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. The top was laced up the sides, and panels floated free over the skirt. It would make a splendid dance costume. 3headedmonkey wore an extremely frilly pink confection of a dress, short in the front and long in the back.
All the models waited in a queue as the show went on. I was supposed to be in the third group, but the announcer jumped the gun and called us out second. We ran up to the door and strutted our stuff. I was the second person in my group, and on my cue, the stage manager gave me a good, solid shove through a door which wasn't open nearly enough. My shoulder smashed into the door, but somehow, I managed not to stagger as I went onto the catwalk. I did my turns at each end, and as I strode along (head up, chest up, butt tucked, one foot in front of the other, thumbs pointing in slightly toward my ring fingers), the announcer said, "Can't you tell she's a belly dancer?"
This was particularly odd, because my walk is nothing like what I do when I dance. Maybe it's the stage presence. I've got lots of that. Or maybe it's just because I'm actually a trained fashion model, unlike the others in the show. I've even got a useless certificate from modelling school to prove it!
When I returned backstage, some of the other models said, "Did you hear what the announcer said? Were you dancing on the catwalk or something?"
"No, I didn't dance. I have no idea what the announcer was on about. I think he was just excited he knows I'm a dancer."
f00dave took pictures, and he's scanning them now. The catwalk ones of me did not turn out, but there's one of me sitting on a chair in the skirt that looks ok. Anyhow, check his site for highlights of the show. I'll post relevant shots whenever he sends them to me.
Oh, I almost forgot! There was a draw held for all the participating models. I think thirty of us received prizes. Anyhow, I won two tanning sessions. Whoopdeedoo! I can't see myself ever choosing to sit in a skin cancer booth. I'm outdoors all the time. I don't need any artificial sun. However, f00 wants to try getting a light tan to see if it helps his skin any. He's also contemplating shaving his head, and thinks the tanning sessions will even out the whiteness of a bald pate. We shall see....
She looked horrified. "No! You can't go to the gym! You have to stay here and get dressed and in makeup."
"But the show isn't until 7:00."
"I know, but this is the only way everyone can get their hair done in time."
So I managed to beg off long enough to go home and get my contact lenses, my makeup, and a couple of books. It was going to be a long, boring day.
And I was right.
I'm unsure as to why anyone thought it would be a good idea to have models sit around in their outfits, makeup, and updos for over six hours. Clothes wrinkle. Makeup smears. Hair droops.
And it was hot in the hotel, with the dozens and dozens of giggling girls sashaying back and forth, going out for smoke breaks, and going to the nearby bar to get liquored up. People were eating fast food in their haute couture, which seems like a ridiculous risk to me. And yes, the outfits were getting more and more wrinkled as time passed. Models took their clothes off to get them steamed and wrinkle-free, then put them back on again to traipse around for a couple more hours.
Gah!
The show itself went pretty well, though. Stagefright abounded, but no one fell on the catwalk or passed out backstage. Clothing ranged from the utterly trampy (think Barb Wire) to the anachronistic (think Gone With the Wind gowns with denim). I wore a relatively conservative pinstriped skirt. It was very short, with the slit on the left thigh at crotch height. Danielle claims it is a business skirt, but it's the sort of business skirt I'd expect to see in a Benny Hill skit. It's made for bending over at the hip to pick up something a leering boss has "accidentally" dropped.
elanya wore a really nice outfit: a two-piece dress in leather, embroidered chiffon, and taffeta (I think). The top was a crop top which came up over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. The top was laced up the sides, and panels floated free over the skirt. It would make a splendid dance costume. 3headedmonkey wore an extremely frilly pink confection of a dress, short in the front and long in the back.All the models waited in a queue as the show went on. I was supposed to be in the third group, but the announcer jumped the gun and called us out second. We ran up to the door and strutted our stuff. I was the second person in my group, and on my cue, the stage manager gave me a good, solid shove through a door which wasn't open nearly enough. My shoulder smashed into the door, but somehow, I managed not to stagger as I went onto the catwalk. I did my turns at each end, and as I strode along (head up, chest up, butt tucked, one foot in front of the other, thumbs pointing in slightly toward my ring fingers), the announcer said, "Can't you tell she's a belly dancer?"
This was particularly odd, because my walk is nothing like what I do when I dance. Maybe it's the stage presence. I've got lots of that. Or maybe it's just because I'm actually a trained fashion model, unlike the others in the show. I've even got a useless certificate from modelling school to prove it!
When I returned backstage, some of the other models said, "Did you hear what the announcer said? Were you dancing on the catwalk or something?"
"No, I didn't dance. I have no idea what the announcer was on about. I think he was just excited he knows I'm a dancer."
f00dave took pictures, and he's scanning them now. The catwalk ones of me did not turn out, but there's one of me sitting on a chair in the skirt that looks ok. Anyhow, check his site for highlights of the show. I'll post relevant shots whenever he sends them to me.Oh, I almost forgot! There was a draw held for all the participating models. I think thirty of us received prizes. Anyhow, I won two tanning sessions. Whoopdeedoo! I can't see myself ever choosing to sit in a skin cancer booth. I'm outdoors all the time. I don't need any artificial sun. However, f00 wants to try getting a light tan to see if it helps his skin any. He's also contemplating shaving his head, and thinks the tanning sessions will even out the whiteness of a bald pate. We shall see....
