The site usually just e-mails me a list of parts it thinks I could audition for. Sometimes it's ridiculously wrong. I've gotten auditions sent to me for MALE, 20-50, AFRICAN AMERICAN before, which makes me even more sure that I should just look at every single posting and find shit myself.
One of them was an ad for a modeling event for a charity Bud Light Super Bowl fashion show. Usually I'd pass it over. But they were paying like $300 just to walk up and down in clothes. And the minimum height requirement was 5' 7". I'm 5' 6" and a half, so I rounded up.
So I did it. It was free anyways, and $300 is a good chunk of money for 2 hours of work, not even.
And I kinda forgot about it. It wasn't something I was thinking, "Oh my god, I'd be soooo goood for this!" So it kinda died.
Until I got a message the next morning. I was going to post it but it's kinda long. But the gist of it was this:
"Hey I handpicked you to audition tomorrow! And remember you get paid! Sorry this is late, by I'm working on 3 movies. Come in form fitting clothing, a model portfolio if you have one, and clean hair/make up to Sangria in Hermosa Beach!"
I model...I guess. I model, but I don't consider myself a "model", because all the models on Top Model who also were actors always got shunned because they weren't committed to the fashion world and were usually eliminated first.
Personally, it's like the comic book of acting. You're another character...and you get one still photo to represent that. So I guess it's like a photo calendar. Of acting. And I'm July.
Anyway, so I start to freak out a little.
Like, oh shit, someone thinks I can do this.
So what's the first thing I turn to in this time of need?
America's Next Top Model.
Somehow in my mind, my years of watching Tyra smize people into elimination totally informed me on what I was doing. But honestly, it kinda did.
Model Portfolio: they said it was optional, but I felt like if I had one, they'd think that I actually do this on a regular basis. So I went to Walgreens (where all the models go to get their prints.) and printed out some shots I've done, went to Office Max and got a nice looking binder thing, plastic sleeves, and I was good to go.
I watched as Jay Alexander, runway coach extaordinaire, taught models how to work the runway (snap.)
And I used our hallway as a walking area as Sam told me to pick up my feet....like he knows how to runway walk...please. I watched Jay.
I put my pictures in my book as Sam drives down to Hermosa Beach, and I'm feelin' alright. Not totally in my comfort zone, but when have I been the last 2-3 weeks.
I go to the restaurant, and immediately see a sign "CASTING SUPERBOWL MODELS". I point to the sign and do my "whaaat, me?" face to Sam, but he runs away and pretends he doesn't know me.
I go inside, and there's a girl already there walking and I get motioned to sit with the Casting Director.
This walking model is tiny. And she also is wearing an itty bitty dress on. With a Blue Steel on. Wait, didn't she want us to smile...
I wore my Tyra approved go see outfit...and start to wonder if this runway go-see is a little different than what Tyra had prepared me for.
There's also two random guys there, just kinda sitting there. Giving their nods of approval at the models' posture and form. And checking bitches out, come on, let's be real.
After she's done, the CD says that she would call her IF she got it...but then gave her all the details for rehearsal. Gee, I wonder if she got it.
She then looks at my modeling portfolio...that I've always had since forever. And gives me some advice on where to put my pictures in terms of order. I "ah" and nod. Yes...next time, I will do that.
I do my runway walk, which I've been instructed to do 'very slowly'...to house music.
Yay. Didz it. And I didn't die.
Then she's like, "Do it again, but do it with Tea cup!"
Oh shit, Tyra never taught me how to Tea cup. But I hope it's nothing like the Dougie because I feel like that could be a disaster.
It ends up being just hand on your hip, swinging your arm back and forth. Oh, you mean sassy.
I did some happy-sassy walk, trying to channel my inner Victoria Secret fashion show walk where they're all happy and naked.
And then they're like, "...okay, thank you!"
And she hands me my purse back...and is like, "We'll call you."
Wait, what about details about rehe-...oh.
So I exit Stage Left, wondering if I could have upped the sass factor...or maybe I wasn't tiny enough. Or maybe I should have worn my Booty Pops. (kidding I don't own those...yet.)
And then a random guy comes up to me.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I really wanted to talk to you earlier, but you vanished into that bar. So..what are you doing here?"
"Um...Modeling audition."
"Oh cool, is that your modeling portfolio?"
"....yes. It is."
"Wow, cool. Hey, do you wanna grab a drink?"
"I'm...actually meeting up with my boyfriend."
"Aw man. Well, that doesn't surprise me."
"Nice to meet you though."
"Yeah, take care."
And I shuffled away, my dignity restored a little bit...and kind of hoping the casting people saw that.
So I don't think I got the gig. But it was an interesting experience. My shortness and child bearing hips will most likely prevent me from doing any normal runway shit, but I'm glad I just did the fucking thing.
Because hey, that casting director was working on three different films...and natural redheads are going extinct.
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