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Should I go to School, or should I go to the pool?
A Model's True Story Of Her Rough Start
(C) Copyright 2003, 2004 Independent Modeing. All rights reserved.
By Melissa Green, Independent Model contributor from Clearwater (currently in NYC)
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I wanted to model. I wanted to model
more than anything. I didn't have a clue on how to start, though. So, my search
for information was kind of tepid at first.
My first stop was the book store. I looked for books on how to get started in
modeling. Model this, model that- I expected for there to be a centerpiece section
on the joys of modeling. Fat chance. I found two damaged books on the subject
in the health and beauty section, and those didn't give me any useful information
on becoming a model or anything about the modeling industry. I bought them anyway.
Good reference material, but little more. To this day, my $40.00 beginners library
on the joys of modeling sit at the high end of my bookshelf; the cornerstones
of a wolf spider's web nest.
I didn't give up right away. My girlfriends and I would have slumber parties,
and we'd tell each other our dreams for a future career. I confessed that I
wanted to model, and one of them told me to be more realistic. It wasn't that
I didn't have the bone structure or the range of looks that I needed to make
it, but rather that the industry in Tampa Bay wasn't exactly prime compared
to the big cities such as New York or Los Angeles. My friend was careful to
clarify her opinion so as to not insult me, but I had made up my mind. I was
meant to be a model. My confession was not a hollow dream, but was sincere.
I tried some more. I went to this agency in south Tampa after seeing their ad
for models in the paper, and they tried to sell me a picture package for over
$600.00. My parents knew it was some modeling scam, so we went to some other,
well known agencies in the area. They were much more helpful, and were good
about answering my questions about the modeling industry and a career as a model.
Two of them flat out told me that I had a great look, but they already had a
lot of models with a similar look. So, they didn't represent me, and told me
to check back. They did, however, offer to refer me for a test shoot with local
photographers. Discouraged, I decided to back off and research other career
options. Maybe I could be a singer, or an actress! It would have helped if I
had the talent to back up my looks. I looked at other options, and tried not
to think about the joys of modeling.
My urge to model and to have a career in modeling didn't go away, although I
kept quiet about it with everyone.
During the Summer before my senior year in high school, I heard a commercial
on the radio for a model search in downtown Tampa. I felt that spark of anticipation
return, and begged my mom to let me go. She saw that modeling was what I really
wanted to do, and after careful consideration, she let me go.
There were a lot of people there at the convention hall. Lots of girls like
me, but also a lot of girls that had no business even thinking about modeling.
After a brief wait, I was seen by a panel of middle aged people in cheap suits.
I was the look that they were looking for, I was told, and they sent me out
of the room to wait in another, private room. I was excited at first, but the
room began to fill with average girls, as well as a few of those that shouldn't
be modeling.
I was called back to the panel. They congratulated me and informed me that I
had been accepted to their prestigious modeling academy, which I had heard of
before. I seriously considered going despite the $1,200.00 fee, but when I talked
to the other girls after the fact, that fee started to look really steep. It
turned out most of the girls were accepted, too! They were all meant to be models,
it seemed. I began to feel less special, and maybe even a little taken advantage
of. I decided against asking my mom for the money, and wrote it off as a scam
which I had escaped unscathed. Well, almost. I was still determined to be a
model, and something was about to happen which would have an impact on my future
career as a professional model. Of course, I made it, but the trip that I took
to get there is worth the telling.
I remembered about learning that a model had to have a portfolio and composite
cards to demonstrate their range of looks. Those tools were needed in order
to book jobs. I figured that if I obtained those modeling tools, that landing
agency representation would be easier, too. So, by chance I happened to meet
a photographer at the beach one day.
I went down to Fort Desoto with some of my friends, and we stumbled upon this
photographer taking pictures of a woman in a string bikini. I asked him about
what he did, and he told me that I had a great look. He wrote down his number
and I promised to call him to set up a meeting.
Well, we met. The photographer was from Clearwater, too, and I took my mom with
me when we met at his studio. He had lots of photographs of models in swimsuits,
and my mother rolled her eyes when she saw a few risque shots. I really wanted
to model, though, and he was really inexpensive at $100.00 . I couldn't believe
that I could get my whole portfolio done at the price of a test shoot.
The first shoot was ok. We shot at a Clearwater park, and a few homeless people
made up our audience as he took lots of pictures of me. My mom wasn't that enthusiastic,
though, and I could tell that she was bored. When I got the pictures back, they
weren't very good, though. I started to doubt myself. Was it possible that I
was a terrible model and that I was the one who had no business in modeling?
I called him up and told him that I had problems with the pictures. He told
me that he wouldn't mind shooting me again for the price of film and development.
So, we set up a shoot. My mother had to work on the day of the shoot, though,
and she told me that I could do the shoot only if we did it around our apartment
complex. I really didn't mind, though, as I was finally going to get some great
pictures!
When he showed up, he wondered where my mom was. I told him that she was working.
I told him that she was like a fifth wheel anyway, and that she'd only slow
us down. We both laughed. It was the only time that I would laugh that day,
though, and for some time to come.
Before the shoot, we sat down and talked about the kind of pictures that I needed
for my composite cards and portfolio. He said that when we finally got enough
pictures for a portfolio, we could do my composite cards, and that they would
only cost around $170.00 for an order of laser composites. He explained that
the best type of modeling to do in Florida was bikini and swimsuit modeling,
and that's what most of the jobs really were. He suggested that we'd take lots
of swimsuit pictures, and asked what kind of swimsuits I had to model in. Well,
I had a modest one piece and a couple of two piece bikini's, as well as one
that I wasn't supposed to have. I asked him why he thought that I would make
a good swimsuit model. He replied that I had a great shape to me, as well as
nice breasts. Well, the breast comment made me a little uncomfortable, but I
thought that it was only because I was so self conscience about my body. I asked
him what he thought of my hair, my eyes, my smile. I said that they were great,
but he didn't seem so enthusiastic with that reply. Anyway, I decided not to
tell him about my risque bikini, as my mom would have killed me if she knew
that I had it. So, I told him that I didn't have many swimsuits. Since I had
recently turned eighteen, the photographer told me that it wouldn't be a problem,
as we could work through it.
I remember wondering what he meant by that.
We went down to my pool, which was empty because it was a bit chilly outside.
The photographer said that it was a perfect day for a swimsuit shoot. We shot
two sets, and then the photographer pitched what I believe he had on his mind
the first day that we had met.
He said that he was looking to expand his photography portfolio, and would be
willing to do it for free if I had an open mind and was willing to help him
out with the pictures that he needed. He said that I would be perfect for some
specific swimsuit and glamour shots that he had in mind, as I was, as he put
it, incredibly beautiful with an incredible body for it. I was a bit uneasy
by now, and asked him what kind of pictures he had in mind. He didn't answer
directly, but rambled a bit on how I needed to concentrate on types of modeling
that would sell because their weren't a lot of modeling jobs in Tampa, or much
of Florida, for that matter. He told me that I would make a lot of money modeling
lingerie, and that I would be great at doing artistic nudes. A part of me wanted
to believe him, but for the first time I saw right through him. I told him that
the term artistic nude was, what I considered to be, an oxymoron. He didn't
seem to know what oxymoron meant, and was probably surprised to hear me use
a four syllable word to begin with. He was more direct now, and told me that
I needed to have a more open mind, that it wouldn't hurt for me to pose nude,
and that the nude pictures would be tasteful and artistic. I couldn't believe
it. The photographer was actually condescending toward me!
Well, we had already done two swimsuit looks, and I was really annoyed by this
so called photographer. I told him that the shoot was over.
The photographer muttered something about me not being professional, and that
I would have to be more open minded if I wanted to have a successful modeling
career. I told him that if all photographers were like him, that I would no
longer want to model. He left.
A month later, I got those swimsuit pictures in the mail. In retrospect, from
my vantage point over a year later, there was way too much clutter in the back
ground of the pictures, the poses were unflattering, and the pictures were,
ultimately, unusable. I guess my perspective is molded by how I felt from the
entire experience, but the pictures were mostly bad.
I was still determined to model, though, and kept at it. After a time, I met
some great photographers, got some awesome pictures, and built a respectable
portfolio. An agency in Tampa signed me, then two more did soon after. I started
booking shoots, and one morning I woke up, looked in a mirror, and suddenly
realized that I was a successful, working model. That was the day that I drove
down to Miami with my boyfriend, and a major agency down there signed me. You
always seem to remember the details about days like that.
Today I'm in my apartment in New York. From my window I can see where the Twin
Towers used to stand. I try not to think of what happened there, but would rather
like to focus on the blue sky that I can now see more of whenever I look out
the window. The sun is shining today. Regardless, I have a magazine editorial
to shoot later today, and a runway show tomorrow. I've been very, very lucky.
My life is really good, and I now have the experience to stay away from the
bad side of the industry. When I started out, though, I was terribly naive.
Now, I'm a very different person.
In reflection, I could only imagine the path that my career would have taken
if I had gone to the modeling school and wasted all that money to learn how
to walk with perfect posture, or had caved in and gone the nude route with that
photographer. Wow. I made a few mistakes, but managed to avoid making the big
ones. I spent a bit of money in the process, but it went toward tools that I
needed anyway. The bad experiences that I had were good for me, I suppose, because
they made me the model that I am today.
-IM-
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All images and content © Copyright 2001-2005 Independent Modeling. Document may be printed for individual professional use, but may not be copied, altered, reverse engineered, or otherwise distributed. All rights reserved.