Three months ago my girlfriend decided that I should become a model, owing to my immature and egotistical attitude toward the world I resisted, I took the effort to forge a passive attitude, appeasing my girlfriends wishes without any inclination, curiosity nor intention to take on such a task. She finally managed to advertise it to me appealing to my strong sense of cynicism: ’take money from the world’. Good: I feel as though it takes enough from me in spite of the fact I don’t even want to own it in the first place. So with a malicious disregard for my enduring sense of passivity and self-preservation I have decided to become a model. The first and most alarming thing I have discovered is that there is a proper profession with established hierarchies. Heirarchies, sanctimonious as they are outside of the business world rarely prove to be so within it: built on thin superstitions and subtle behavioural idiosyncrasies most professional titles appear to precede their duties and as such you have to book appointments to go and have yourself vetted and I didn’t realise this until the night before I had intended to go and see the modelling agency I have pinpointed as being ideal (my understanding of career managers is that the client pays the manager, therefore the managers should really be on the back foot at all stages). So I now have probably to wait until the next day that I have off work so that I can go and attempt to secure a modelling contract. The next few days shall be given over to an almost hypochondriac need for research, I shall update.
A short note on my anonymity: I think it best to keep it if I want to get a contract