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FEATURED ARTICLES           Thursday, September 09, 2010                                Email to a Friend

In the Company of Me

Loving Your Own Skin

By Francis Luta

With the latest craze on these ‘model shows’ on hopeful youths trying to be the next hot model in town—now has every girl (and guy) running around taking matters into their own hands by being their own photographer. Posing provocatively and posting it up on their ‘My Space’ websites for the whole world to see, that they too can be a model.

I, on the other hand have taken the next step. I’ve devoted an entire week to running around to as many open-calls as possible. I figured, why not? I have as much of a chance as the next guy sitting across from me waiting for his big break. An agent tested my confidence and told me to stand up in the middle of the room and sing a song. To my disappointment, most of the agencies have expressed that I was not “high fashion” material. My look was more “commercial”, and I would do better in TV/commercial. One agent said to me, that if I got a shade darker then I wouldn’t be able to be in this business. I thought to myself; Does my natural tan revolt the fashion world? God forbid I’ll become photosynthesis-sensitive like Nicole Kidman’s children in “The Others”. My height was considered short for high fashion and for the runway. An agent advised me to take better care of my skin and to work-out more (as if I’m not already). Another agent had me take my shoes off and measure my height to see if I was lying on my written application, because in this game there is no room for flaws. She later said that I will never get to wear the clothes nor will I ever walk the runway.

I came to the conclusion that maybe I was ahead of myself in trying to follow a trend. My act of bravery for seeing these agencies unleash the truth upon me, to be critiqued from head to toe un-sugarcoated, was an experience of self-reassurance and not a tarnished life long dream to be signed with an agency. It was simply a test of how thick-skinned I really am. Graduating from petty insecurities while looking at perfection in magazines—had made me come a long way from my own skin. Perhaps I’d rather have my flaws that make me, me than to try and unfeasibly grow that extra inch lacking from my height overnight and desperately squeeze myself into a mold.

It’s hard to make peace with the fact that there are certain shoes not meant to be worn—but that small misstep of harsh reality doesn’t stump my confidence and comfort that I finally have within myself—and that’s the toughest agent I know.

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