| By Kylie Balogh,
on 30-06-2008 21:11
|
Views : 795  |
Favoured : 20 |
This article originally appeared in the June issue of ALTAMODA magazine.
I searched, picked, paid and joined a “professional” Modeling agency. I was a Model. I had the official group tag that identified me as such. It was only a matter of time before the work comes pouring in. After all, the agency told me they’d be aggressively marketing me throughout SL. I had visions of being decked out in haute couture, strutting confidently down the catwalk in the latest shows, seeing my image on posters in the finest stores and gracing the pages of fashion magazines.
While I was waiting for the Modeling employment floodgates to open, I occupied myself with a favorite pastime…shopping! This was still early on in my SL life; I searched and explored every clothing store I could find. Armed with my newly minted Model tag, I felt that I had street credibility. So, I had no hesitation approaching unsuspecting shop owners to graciously offer my services. Many shops pictured their customers in posters and ads. Following a purchase, I immediately joined the store’s group. Some had official Modeling applications, which I enthusiastically completed. (I figured perhaps I could fit in a few of these store jobs in-between the professional assignments that were looming on the horizon). For the most part, I received a “don’t call us – we’ll call you” attitude from those I actually had an opportunity to meet and talk to. The bulk of applications and written solicitations went unanswered. No worries. I thought. They’re probably using mostly professional agency Models. It was only a matter of time before my agency lines me up with work. So, I continued feeding my shopping addiction along with healthy doses shameless self-promotion.
Every once in a while, I’d run into a friendly storeowner who would tell me about a current or pending need for a Model. Many times, that announcement was followed by the dreaded “but you’re not the right type” curse. So, I found myself quickly molding to their needs. My skin, hair and shape inventory was growing faster than the national debt. If they wanted a blonde, blue-eyed, tanned and toned beach babe, I channeled Pamela Anderson. Too thin? I’d plump up faster than Stevie Nicks after the MTV Music Awards all-you-can-eat buffet. Wrong ethnicity? I’d become Black, Asian, Middle Eastern faster than Clark Kent changed into Superman. It was an expensive way to gain a little experience. I started getting some little jobs. The majority of which were photo sessions for in-store posters. It wasn’t much, but at long last I was working as a Model. It certainly wasn't lucrative as payment for services rendered was typically made in fashion, not funds. It didn't exactly feed my ego since, more often than not; my request for a name credit on the images fell on deaf ears. It was even difficult to brag or show off to my friends since most of the images didn't even look like me. Well, at least I was having some fun in my Modeling career infancy. There I was, signed with an ineffective agency, dragging around a huge collection of components for changing my appearance, going door-to-door and working anonymously for clothing I'd probably never wear. Not exactly living up to the fantasy. I marched on, confident there was opportunity ahead. While shopping, dancing or exploring, I'd read profiles and seek out people associated with the fashion industry. I'd strike up conversations and pick their brains. The discussions were both therapeutic and enlightening. Over the course of time, it became acutely clear that, regardless of the time and money I'd invested, I had overlooked an extremely important element in my quest for Modeling success. I had glossed over one of the most effective tools in a Model's toolbox. Once I realized the omission, I set about correcting the mistake. I began the search for a way to correct what I missed. But, that's another story. I'll tell you about it next time.
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