How I almost maybe became the next Kate Moss

28 Sep

I was walking down Baker Street this afternoon when a woman stopped me. Figuring she was a tourist looking for directions, I obliged her.

“I’m looking for 10 girls…” she started. My first thought: “You lost your entire school group?!”

…”to participate in a day of fashion,” she continued. “Do you live in England?” I said yes, even though I’m technically a visitor. “Are you over 18? Then you qualify!”

She continued on to tell me about this day of fashion — they would “do me up” in the best clothes and editors from the best fashion magazines would be there. They would give me a photo to take home to remember the occasion — “not some tacky boudoir type” she assured me. “We’re just looking for the remaining two girls to fill the spots,” she said, then asked if it was something I’d be interested in. I was still unsure what this “something” was — was it simply a makeover? Was it a modeling casting? And most importantly — was it free? She never mentioned it being free, and if it was, I’m sure there would be a ploy to get you to buy the clothing or makeup or pay to have some agency represent you. For whatever reason my scam-o-meter went off, so I declined. Even if it was just a fun day of fashion and modeling, my various clothing hang-ups and inability to undress in front of people would prevent me from being a successful model (that, and I’m not 5’11” and 110 lbs with a perfect jawline.)

Should I be flattered that she stopped me? I had made an effort to wear nice clothing and makeup today. Or should I be offended that she thinks I need to spend a day learning how to dress? It was an odd encounter and I’m still curious what this day-of-fashion-with-a-non-slutty-photo-souvenir is really about. I guess I’ll never know.


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