Then I remembered that as a pre-teen, I toyed with the notion of modeling. I think I dropped that ambition around 16 when my 6-foot long-legged friend and I were in the Target parking lot and a modeling agent approached us and didn't even glance in my direction going right to my friend saying, "You should model!" I stowed away my hopes of "making it big" and focused on other things like honor roll, getting into university, Varsity basketball and cross country, and eating midnight brownie sundaes with my best friend.
Only when I moved to China did my childhood hopes resurface. I car modeled once in Changsha, which was more hilarious than fulfilling. They dressed me in a black witch-like dress that hung off the shoulder and felt like fake velvet. I stood next to an old car in Hunan sun for 3 hours, forcing a smile. I never realized how exhausting modeling could be. Try standing in heels looking effortlessly "beautiful" for 3 hours while people just snap pictures at you. Uncomfortable doesn't capture it. I lasted about 30 minutes before I started making conversation with the people taking my photos both because I was bored to tears and it was humanizing. My other friend wasn't quite so lucky. I'll spare names, but let's just say it was her birthday the night before and she misunderstood the job description, thinking it was more like the car models one sees in body shop calendars. When we discussed this over the lunch break, and she realized what she had done, she was mortified and refused to return for the afternoon session. I just know that some Hunan lao ban (boss) has a framed photo of my bleached blond friend on his desk.
Up until now, that has been the extent of living the dream, so I decided to shock some of my friends in Hangzhou, since I normally wear bike-riding friendly clothes, not too much make-up, and always keep my hair curly. I drug the black strapless dress out of cobwebs, borrowed some Audrey Hepburn type glasses, got my hair washed and straightened for the bargain price of 20 RMB (less than $3), did up the make-up, wore tall boots, and practiced sucking in my cheeks. People didn't recognize me. I never know how to take comments like, "Oh my god, you're hot! I didn't know it was you!" Uh... thanks?
I got into character, strutting all night, doing model walks with my girlfriends, and taking loads of pictures, which brings me to the entire point of the post. I've recently been in contact with a movie agent because they need extras for a local movie. I've also always wanted to act, so I sent her a few pictures of me, including a couple from that night. She called me today about a fashion show opportunity. After playing phone tag, I finally got in touch with her, so that she could explain the details. Never assume, as I relearned with my yoga/belly dancing class.
We spoke in Chinese.
"Hi! So, this opportunity is for a fashion show."
"Great! What kind of fashion show?"
"Well... nei ku de"
Americans have a habit of repeating what has just been said to them, or so my English friend tells me, so I responded, "Nei ku," making sure I understood correctly.
She took that as a need to explain, "Bra and underwear."
I laughed, "Bu xing!" (impossible)
"Yeah, that's fine. I understand. I'll contact you next time."
Oh, zhong guo. These are the kind of experiences I'm going to miss when I'm back in the States!
