I Am Not Amuse.d
Story by Wendy Squires, from Melbourne’s The Age newspaper, Nov 3, 2012I am thankful that I have never hankered to be a fashion model. I have always been much more interested in what goes on behind the camera, or in art direction or styling – the ideas. I’ve never wanted to personify someone else’s vision, or be someone else’s muse. Not only because that is such a transient status, and the daunting pressure to meet high expectations, but because it is so much more interesting to be the creator.
Of course here on SNAP I can exorcise any latent fantasies and personify my own stories … but the truth is I can’t afford to be paying models every other day anyway. I’m the one who’s available, on call any time.
Today I was clearing out some household stuff that had overstayed its welcome by a year or three – crockery I never used, bits and bobs in the storage room in the garage that had not seen the light of day for years – and I was wrapping the glassware in old newspapers I had cadged from MTC’s Publicity department last Friday.
Not very attractive working conditions, are they? Body fur? Stinky breath?
This story caught my eye, and I paused in my wrapping of a set of rose-coloured wine glasses to read it. Of course I had heard all the horror stories about the modelling industry, but this tale told by journalist/editor/author Wendy Squires early this month was an eye-opener. It was simply appalling to read how magazine staff spoke about the models on a casting call as though they were sub-human. There are too many horrifying paragraphs to quote, but here are a few:
I was open-mouthed with admiration and awe. Never had I seen girls so stunning, so flawless, so otherworldly exquisite. Then, I heard the comments from the team as each girl left. “Did you see her ankles?” “She was just awful. Who sent her?” … “Did you see what she was wearing? Was it Katies?” “All I know is I hatie.” “Fat.” “Haggard.” “Old.” Giggles all round.
Catwalk models are different to photographic models … their hips stick out like bony door handles, … you could grate cheese on their collarbones and how many are covered in a downy layer of hair – nature’s way of keeping the body warm when it’s starved.
I told her how I watched models ingest nothing but black coffee and Marlboros for days on end; how their breath smelt and they would routinely faint.
Not very attractive working conditions, are they? Body fur? Stinky breath? Of course there is a glamorous side to modelling, but there is much more to life than looking merely beautiful. Plus you get to eat.
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