So-- yesterday I was approached by a modeling scout as I walked to the bus stop. He was nicely dressed, had a big shiny SUV, and offered me his card. I turned him down, more out of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else, I think, despite his fawning words. Before he drove off, he asked me if I were foreign. Strangely, I get this quite often, and I don't really understand it. I have no trace of a foreign accent, though it may be that my conspicious lack of the distinctive Baltimorean accent is in itself somewhat foreign around these parts. I figure it's either that or my predisposition for head-to-toe black.
As I was riding on the bus, I began to mull it over. Why is it that I didn't at least take his card to check if it was legit? Why did I decline the offer immediately? I guess it's that so bizzare, completely out of left field. I mean, let's face it-- I'm 5'5", somewhere between 125-130 lbs. Most models are 5'9", 100 lbs. You see the obvious disparity here. I actually eat.
And it doesn't even matter to me that I have what some consider to be a pretty face. In the back of my mind, I'm always thinking-- well, I chose a flattering picture, or yeah, that lipstick really brightens me up, or it's my confidence that makes me pretty. I mean, I think I'm cute-- pretty on some days-- but never model-pretty. I could never measure up to those girls-- I'd always feel too short, not thin enough, my nose is kind of wonky. I'd obsess over my body and pick apart every flaw, and really-- what fun is that?
Not to mention public scrutiny. If I had to pick a modern celebrity whose body most closely resembles mine, I'd probably say Scarlett Johanssen. We're both medium-framed and curvy, pale with round-ish faces. Recently, she posed nude for the cover of Vanity Fair.
And you know what I've heard? "Ugh, she's so fat, she should put her clothes back on."
True, anyone would look heavy next to Keira Knightley, but for real? The sad truth is that in America, for those in the public eye, if you're not sample-sized, you're morbidly obese. I mean, can you imagine? Nowadays, Marilyn Monroe would be sent to fat camp and put on some nutty macrobiotic diet. It's appalling. And if I sometimes feel hefty at a size 6, I can't imagine how almost every woman I know must feel. I always tell myself that healthy is healthy, no matter the dress size, but sometimes that clashes with the insane standard of beauty that our cult of celebrity has created. It gives insecurity leeway to rear its ugly head.
On the plus side, I am pleased to be in much better shape than I was this time last year. Eating better has really helped me rid myself of unneeded college bloat. I've got more energy, which is nice. I could still stand to get a little more tone going, but hey, it's not like I have to be ready for the cover of Sports Illustrated anytime soon.
As I was riding on the bus, I began to mull it over. Why is it that I didn't at least take his card to check if it was legit? Why did I decline the offer immediately? I guess it's that so bizzare, completely out of left field. I mean, let's face it-- I'm 5'5", somewhere between 125-130 lbs. Most models are 5'9", 100 lbs. You see the obvious disparity here. I actually eat.
And it doesn't even matter to me that I have what some consider to be a pretty face. In the back of my mind, I'm always thinking-- well, I chose a flattering picture, or yeah, that lipstick really brightens me up, or it's my confidence that makes me pretty. I mean, I think I'm cute-- pretty on some days-- but never model-pretty. I could never measure up to those girls-- I'd always feel too short, not thin enough, my nose is kind of wonky. I'd obsess over my body and pick apart every flaw, and really-- what fun is that?
Not to mention public scrutiny. If I had to pick a modern celebrity whose body most closely resembles mine, I'd probably say Scarlett Johanssen. We're both medium-framed and curvy, pale with round-ish faces. Recently, she posed nude for the cover of Vanity Fair.
And you know what I've heard? "Ugh, she's so fat, she should put her clothes back on."
True, anyone would look heavy next to Keira Knightley, but for real? The sad truth is that in America, for those in the public eye, if you're not sample-sized, you're morbidly obese. I mean, can you imagine? Nowadays, Marilyn Monroe would be sent to fat camp and put on some nutty macrobiotic diet. It's appalling. And if I sometimes feel hefty at a size 6, I can't imagine how almost every woman I know must feel. I always tell myself that healthy is healthy, no matter the dress size, but sometimes that clashes with the insane standard of beauty that our cult of celebrity has created. It gives insecurity leeway to rear its ugly head.
On the plus side, I am pleased to be in much better shape than I was this time last year. Eating better has really helped me rid myself of unneeded college bloat. I've got more energy, which is nice. I could still stand to get a little more tone going, but hey, it's not like I have to be ready for the cover of Sports Illustrated anytime soon.
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