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Pretending to be a Model/Actress as a Method of Travel

(April 9, 2018)

After I broke up with my boyfriend of nearly 3 years, I thought it was time for me to do what I was long over-due for: pursuing my dreams of dress-up fashion modeling. One of my favorite shows that I used to watch was “America’s Next Top Model”. Since I was always one of the tall, skinny girls in school that saw herself as the ugly duckling, I secretly hoped that one day everyone would see that I was somehow beautiful. I thought I had this potential spark that just not everyone could see yet, but neither could I.

In August of 2016, I remember seeing this guy’s photography on Instagram and being completely in love with his way of capturing sexy alter-egos of women with a retro style and neon lights. His name was Graham Morrison. By this time, I wasn’t drowning in so many bills because I moved out of my boyfriend’s apartment, so I had an extra wad of cash to spend on a professional stylist/makeup artist and photographer. I told Graham that I wanted him to capture my “transformation” after the breakup. He loved it, and a new friendship between creatives was formed.

After a successful first-shoot-ever, I received a “like” on my post on Facebook from my ex, as well as a slew of new friend requests. Suddenly people from Charlotte wanted to get to know me and be my friend like I was the new girl in school. All this attention because I showed I could be confident? I guess so. It was time to reinvent myself.

Even though I just moved out of an apartment in Charlotte and back to the suburbs, I was going into the city much more frequently so I could meet people every night and go dancing and drinking in Plaza Midwood. I was going out to art gallery showings, seeing live-bands play, making out with DJ’s, and what was amazing, was that people were actually excited to see me and I knew at least one person at every place I went to because I met them the night before. Anything I wore or did was “WOW SO UNIQUE” instead of weird. Even when I accidentally shaved all of my hair off, people appreciated it and respected it. I loved it because I felt like a stranger in a newly familiar town.

In the Fall of 2016, I walked into the Buffalo Exchange where I met Humble Connor, an aspiring fashion designer. She liked my look and invited me to walk in her new fashion show. I couldn’t make it, so then she made me one of two featured models in her lookbook for her fall fashion line “Peace of Fruit.” It got published in an avant-garde fashion magazine in France.

I didn’t do any real traveling with modeling. It was an idea, but I ended up putting on so much weight from drinking and partying til 3 AM for at least 4 months straight. The height of my very short modeling career was that magazine where my naked ass is to be seen in a skirt made of chains and a clear raincoat. In a way, I’m glad that I’m completely unrecognizable and probably nobody in America has seen it.

Even if it wasn’t paid, I still did some modeling of my own. I went on multiple road-trips on my days off from serving tables because I just had to get away from the stresses of every day life and a healing broken heart. I’d wear and buy wigs in new towns, sit in a café somewhere unfamiliar, and hope that I’d strike someone’s interest. It worked sometimes, but even when it didn’t I had the most fun meeting strangers and getting to know their life-stories. Eventually, I made it to all the south-eastern states with the exception of Arkansas. It’ll have to be a trip saved for a later date when I’m actually in the south again. I’m hoping that won’t be for a while.