i win!

[doe__eyes]

Reply with your name and:

01. I will write something about you.
02. I will then tell what reminds me of you.
03. If I were to apply an o'clock to you, it would be...
04. I will try to name a single word that best describes you.
05. I'll tell you the most memorable moment I've had with you.
06. I'll then tell you something that I've always wondered about

Comments

[johnh778]

to answer:

Larkin and her mother told me I should model, originally; the ultimate dream was to become extraordinarily successful and make enough cash to pay for college. I showed up at a Willowbrook mall model search put on by Neil Hamil in a Valentino suit jacket that was too big for me and made me look like some kind of Aryan mob boss, and a black silk shirt with the french cuffs done up wrong. God knows why, but the gay guy there saw that I was trying and said that I had some potential, and threw me into the corporate scamverse, getting me to cough up cash for classes to "learn how to model", when all I was doing was hearing shit from this Columbian guy with tight jeans about how to practice poses in the mirror for about seven hundred dollars. Of course, I wasn't oblivious at all to the fact that they were making more money off their little school than their models, but I stuck around anyway, spreading a few scathing rumors about the people on the second floor and seeing if I might make my money back later.

After all of that, I got a few dumb free jobs--a back to school fashion show in Sugarland, some informal modeling at Willowbrook, as well as that poster everyone sees. Over the course of a year and a half or so. The only paid job I've done has been to stand around in front of a TV camera at 5:30 in the morning for fox news. They owe me about 200 dollars for that.

There is work out there, and I do think that the agents I talk to all the time are pretty genuinely trying to find me some of it. But they've used a lot of excuses such as "you're just not Houston" and when they say I'd be better in NYC, they also tell me that since I'm 17 I can't fly up there and stay alone, which is ridiculous, because anybody can get a hotel room with a credit card. I think that if I had a chance to start over with it I'd talk to people when I get up north. If an agency really wants you then you don't have to pay them to be their poster boy. Every Thursday there's a new batch of kids and their moms in the agency's office downtown that all think they're hot stuff. Most of em pay the money to learn nothing and are rewarded with a contract that allows them to proclaim their status as a model to their equally ditzy friends but legally ties them up for at least a year or two, disabling them to get a contract with somebody who's honest enough to tell you that you either suck or you won't suck once you get your skin/hair/build/attitude fixed.

Oops, I just told a really long story.