The fashion week is finished with great results for me. Seven shows all together. First time castings, first Fashion Week ever. I think it is a big success for me, considering that I have no experience at all. The agency says they were expecting success and they are very satisfied. The most important thing is that I am the one who is very happy and proud. And I don’t regret coming to Paris.
On the weekend I will rest, write a letter to my mammy and my best friend Nina, repair the blisters on my feet and summarize my impressions. Next week I have a bunch of castings for magazines and editorials. And some tests- a test is when a photographer takes photos of you, but they are not published; they are just printed for your book. And you have to pay for it. But no one tells you that straight away. You find it out when you get your statement and are shocked. There are some free tests too, but it is more likely that the agency will prefer the photos from the paid ones.
I hope I made some money doing shows. On Monday I will go to ask for my statement.
Well, the first try to put my hands on the statement is not happening. The accountant is too busy to talk to me, but one of the bookers is very happy to see me.
He has a very unique idea. Listen to this:
All the girls doing shows will have the front part of their hair cut up to the middle of their cheeks!!!
One by one the girls sit on chair placed next to the window. The booker says he needs the light, like a professional. Yes, light is necessary, but he is using scissors meant for paper.
Now it’s my turn. I refuse to sit, and my answer creates confusion. All the bookers are around me, and with a gentle tone of voice, all at the same time, they are trying to explain to me how important this is for my career. I will look amazing; it is a sign that we are special girls… blah blah blah. I don’t know when and why I gave up refusing. Can I be more stupid? I regret it before I get up from the chair.
The truth is that the new trend looks very good on a few girls, but I look like a witch escaped from a bonfire. And of course I cannot hold it in, I start crying when I look at myself in the mirror. No one tries to soothe me; their job is to make me do it, not to soothe me. So I grab my bag and leave the room running.
The first hair salon I find, I run in like someone is chasing me. Using not understandable language, a mix of English and my native tongue, I try to explain to the hair dresser what happened and what I need him to do. He doesn’t really understand, but what he does understand is that I am desperate and he can help me. After giving me a glass of water and sitting me on his chair, he shows me how he can fix things, and says if I agree, he can start straight away. He is doing a great job; he will fix the madness the booker did to me.
I do understand that part of my job is to look like a witch if the client wants that, but I don’t want to walk around the city like a witch. I just cannot do that.
The last coin of my savings I give to the hair dresser. He gives me a discount, so it looks like I have enough. He becomes the most positive person for me during my first visit to Paris. He gets my smile back after the tears.
I go to the agency one week after the “cutting the hair” episode. I want to see an accountant; that is all I care about right now.
They are offended and angry because I had my hair fixed. When I say that I really don’t care if they are offended because I refused to look like an idiot; and I even don’t care if they want to stop working with me, they are shocked by my behavior. I grab my advance money and leave, forgetting to talk to the accountant. After a few stairs I go back to tell them that I want to hear the decision about our cooperation today. I think after I leave they will have an urgent meeting about fast “medicine” for the girl with the bad behavior!
A few hours later they are calling me to explain how hasty my reaction was, that I have to understand that they have the best intentions and the biggest plans for me, blah blah blah.
“You have to understand that your plans are YOURS, not mine,” I said. “My plan is not to walk around like a runaway witch because of your plans. Period. If you want to work with me you have to think about this crucial difference: before realizing your plans for me, you have to consider my feelings and opinions. I am the main actor in this play at the end of the day.”
They are still shocked by my behavior, but they want me to stay and work with them.
“I will stay, but if I don’t feel good again about your ideas, I’ll leave.”