So You Think You're a Model: What Myspace Has Done to the Industry
We've all said it before and I'm saying it again:
1. Putting duct tape on your boobies does not make you a model.
2. Having someone take a photo of you stretching out on a bed does not make you a model.
3. Sitting on a chair with your legs spread does not make you a model.
4. Wearing a corset does not make you a model.
5. Trying to look sexy, but looking like you just have a really bad itch (guess what?!) does not make you a model.
6. Just standing there, not showing a clothing or accessory line or even a story line, does not make you a model.
7. Just wearing Goth clothing or a little extra black eyeliner does not make you a model.
8. Sitting on a toilet seat looking "naughty" does not make you a model.
9. Having someone take shots of you in any of the above or similar situations does not make you a model.
Nor does being that person taking the shots make you a photographer.
I am not a model. Nor am I a photographer. I do not try to be a model. You can tell from my ridiculously awkward photos that I'm not lying here. That said, I know a lot of amazing photographers and models. They have studied. They have professional (I mean like magazines and books and authentic Web sites) experience. It's a profession. It's a talent. They are not just standing in a bathroom or a cemetery (okay, at least one photographer I know tried one day to take photos in a cemetery, but almost got arrested with me), clicking some girl who really needs to put her clothes on or think twice about getting another facial piercing.
How has this happened? The Internet, right? I didn't grow up with the Internet. I hadn't even seen it until I was in my early twenties. And while there was some "modeling" going on at that time, I'm pretty sure that was a whole different ballgame.
When I was sixteen, I remember that my friend got approached by some representatives from Barbizon (modeling school from the 80s) at the mall. Her parents signed her up. She learned how to walk the catwalk, pick out outfits, and hold her head up. If you were a really successful Barbizon model, you got to be in Sears catalogs or maybe in the Bradley's fliers. And in my world, that was a teenage/young adult model.
So seriously, if I ever see that my seventeen year old daughter (you know, once she's born, if she is) standing on the edge of the tub in thigh highs and electrical tape, while her friend crouches in the door with a camera-she is soooo grounded. For like ever.
Published by gia c
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2 Comments
Post a Comment"needs to put her clothes back on or think twice about another facial piercing." .... WIN.
I agree with you wholeheartedly. And as much as I love photographing women in various levels of scantily-clad-ness, there is a definite line between screwing around with a camera and taking professional photographs. A big, fat Sharpie-marker-drawn line!
Glad you put this out there, very glad! A relative was a model, a serious one (worked for a reputable agency - emphasis on reputable) and it is so much more than putting a photo on the internet. Of course, she worked primarily before the internet muddied the waters. You have a wise attitude about daughters and the internet, by the way ;)