Despite not being exactly busting with funds for such a venture, I decide that I need to finally get my headshots done, and make a real go of being a model. If I keep waiting until I'm in a better financial position, then I'll never do it. Because, let's face it; I'm always going to be living pay check to pay check at the minimum wage jobs I'm currently eligible for. I figure that when I make it big as a model, I'll pay back it all back. Regardless, I circle the cheapest one I can find. I call to make an appointment, and the man on the other end of the line tells me to bring formal wear, something casual, as well as a bathing suit.
I descend steep stairs to the dark basement studio, if you even want to call it that; it being nothing more than a dingy bachelor apartment with white sheets hung in a corner. Dirty dishes in the sink, empty beer cans on the counter, and soiled clothes on the floor. I remind myself that you get what you pay for, and pleasantly introduce myself to the photographer. Brian is lanky, with shaggy hair, and a worn flannel shirt, and he gives me a lazy handshake. But, this could be my first connection to the business world of modelling; you never know. Never burn a bridge.
He has me sit on a stool near the kitchen for now, and I peruse his portfolio while he adjusts the camera and lighting. Despite the shotty set-up, his photos are good. Really good. One after the other of high class looking, fashionable, couture, professional models. I begin to second guess the second rate wardrobe I brought; that maybe I should have waited until I had more money. I keep flipping, to some artful nudes. Classy, tasteful, beautiful work. I wonder what he has planned for me.
"Let's see what you brought," he offers, and I lug my bag onto the table. I take out the dress, t-shirt and jeans, and one piece swimsuit I brought. His brow furrows. "Anything else?"
"Ah...no. Sorry. This was all I thought..."
"Hmm. First time modelling?"
"Uh. Yes."
"Let me see if I have anything." He suggests, rubbing his chin, and turning on his heels. I watch him disappear into the vortex of clothing I believe is a closet. In a minute, he emerges. "Try this."
"Right. Will do." I look around for a change area, but remember that models are naked around the crew all the time. Every time a model leaves the runway, a handful of costume people strip her naked and hurriedly dress her in another of the designer's new, hot looks. A real model wouldn't be shy of her body, so I decide not to be either. I brazenly remove my shirt and pants, taking one last anxious look at Brian adjusting the camera flash before taking off my bra and underwear as well. He doesn't even seem to notice. I feel the dampness of the basement on my skin, evaporating off of me, and giving me a chill, my nipples standing erect. It's only now that I look at what he's given me. An oddly tiny bikini with several thin pieces of twining fabric joining the two parts together. I'd have to see it on to tell what exactly it will look like, but I vow to trust the fact that he knows what he's doing. He's a professional, after all. I've seen his photos.
I struggle to figure out how exactly it goes on, and I desperately hope that Brian isn't watching this awkward girl fight with a bathing suit on her first model shoot. When I think I have it on correctly, I take a breath and step into the light. He looks at me through the lens, and clucks his tongue once or twice. "May I?" He asks, gesturing vaguely to my body, and I professionally nod, not exactly sure what he's asking. He then takes one of the straps, and moves it over my head, to the other side. That feels a bit better. He readjust the top, so that my breasts practically spill out over it. He methodically attempts to squish them together, shaking the material aggressively until they fall where he wants them to. I hope my face doesn't register the shock of him touching my breasts in this way, like I'm a piece of meat. He doesn't even look me in the face as he does it, perhaps picturing me like the product in an advertisement. It's all business though, as he then squats behind me, and does the same thing to my ass. To my continued surprise, he pulls the bottom of the bikini right down, so that my bare ass is in direct line with his face, then places the material back up where he wants, moving the seat of the bikini slightly in between my butt cheeks, so that they peek attractively out the sides. He stands then, in front of me, and takes my long hair into his hands behind me, so that his face is very close to mine, almost like he is going to kiss me. I smell cigarettes on him and notice the aroma of his aftershave, as he finger combs my hair, placing pieces deliberately across my forehead and in front of my face.
Hoping that I now look like one of the models in his portfolio, I feel ready for the shoot. But, that confidence quickly fades as Brian starts taking shots. I assumed that he would pose me or direct me in some way, but he leaves me to figure it out on my own. Or, maybe he wants to stay still for now. I feel myself start to sweat, and pray that he doesn't notice. I try not to look at the camera. Or maybe I should.
"Hmm. This isn't working," he mumbles, looking around. "Looks like we should just do some nudes. You cool with that?"
"Uh. Yeah. Of course. No problem..." I trail off, trying to sound like I've done this a hundred times. Nudes. Right. Just like the girls in his portfolio. I'm a professional, now, so I better be alright with things like this. If some photographic genius has an idea; if I inspire him in some way, and he wants to suddenly switch gears, then as a professional, working model, I have to just go with the flow. I fight with the tight straps of the bathing suit once more, as I attempt to remove it. He doesn't look at me exactly, but through me, as he passes me a bottle of moisturizer. I apprehensively squirt a dollop onto my hand, even getting embarrassed by the farting noise the plastic bottle makes. I pretend to know what I'm doing, even now, completely naked, I reason that he doesn't want my skin to look dry. I begin to rub myself with the cream, bending to moisturizer my legs. He looks through the lens.
"Much better," he remarks, taking some shots, and I feel myself relax. "These pictures are supposed to show off your assets, so nudes are definitely what I would choose for you." I smile a little, and he captures it, rapidly firing about a dozen shots. "That's great," he says, finally offering his opinion. "Just try to relax."
I feel myself open up, and am actually able to do some poses that he seems to like. I work a lot better with encouragement. The lights warm my skin, and I get lost in the moment of success. Maybe I can do this after all. I'm a natural. Perhaps Brian will tell someone about me; this new and budding talent, and agents will fight to scoop me up before someone else does.
"I'm going to bring in someone else, now," he says from behind the camera, and my jaw drops slightly, a little disappointed that it's over so fast. Brian excuses himself to the next room, and begins talking in hushed tones to someone. I look around at a loss, wondering if this is my cue to get dressed and see myself out. A photographic genius maybe, but his bedside manner is awful.
But, Brian re emerges, with an equally rough looking individual, but in an attractive way; a guy with a couple day's stubble on his face, a square jawline, and an elastic band tying his hair back. I instinctively move to grab something to cover myself, but there isn't anything around, so I just use my hands. "Oh, no need to cover up," Brian assures, and I instantly feel shameful of my newbie move. "Tom here's a professional model as well." As well as me? Did he just call me a professional model?
"Nice to meet you," he says in a warm, manly voice, and reaches for my hand. I feel weird shaking his hand while standing here naked, but I pretend that it's normal. Tom then begins to disrobe, but Brian distracts me, continuing.
"When I see real potential in a model, I often ask Tom to step in, and do some duo shots with them. He's a renowned professional, and can often boost other model's popularity by working alongside them. All this okay with you?"
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