Even though I do complain about this city, about it's drivers, lack of fashion, and tendancy to act like one big group of gossipy highschoolers, It's still my home. That's something I never forget, and It does have a place in my heart and it's who I am.
What bothers me, is when people get out of here to do this or that, and come back acting like they are worth so much more than the people who have made lives here, or who haven't had the chance to "escape."
We have had a few ladies (and men) in particular, who have had the chance to leave the Midwest, to pursue a decently (even better than decent in some cases) lucrative career in the Modeling industry. My modeling career bordered more on the former, but I had the opportunity to experience something that not many people will have the chance to experience, but still kept my wits about me when it came to the fact that, well, I'm no better than anyone else. I just moved up in a career field, which many have done before. My reasons for leaving before getting to become one of the bright new faces in Fashion are my own, but I don't regret that decision.
There is one young woman from my town who has become one of the most in-demand models out there. Walking for all the major designers, booking all of the big print and editorial jobs, and, well, she's Fashion's Sweetheart.
And you know, She really used to be a sweetheart.
I remember doing her first fashion show with her, It was a benefit show for a charity, put on by a super trendy Vintage store in the bohemian/Hipster part of town.
She sweetly and enthusiastically told the other girls about pursuing a modeling career: "My mom and I have kind of been talking about it, I think it would be fun!"
She talked about "I ate a hamburger before I came here, I was so hungry!"
Whilst the rest of us girls tried to maintain the pre-pubescent figure that she naturally enjoyed. (Don't you miss being 13?)
We chatted for a while about modeling, and I disclosed to her that I was with an Agency and she inquired about what it took to become involved with an International agency. After the information was passed to an inquiring young mind from an older (18 is getting up there for a model) and slightly less naiive mind, we proceeded to walk in the show. She was a hit with the crowd and photographers.
We parted after the show, and I hadn't heard anything of or from her since. Well, about a year or so passed, I was reading an article in the local paper and who's face do you think popped up? None other than that girl from the fashion show. And apprently, she had made it big. I mean REALLY BIG. She had joined a local agency here in town (Which for the most part is a huge scam, anyone can join as long as they pay upwards of $3,000 for modeling classes, with no guarantee of work afterwards- no Agency with any pull to their name would ever make their models pay.) and had a semi-successful run in a modeling scout show, but was just at the right place at the right time, and happened to be picked up by a scout from a well-known agency. They booked her, she was turned down quite a bit, but was picked up by an even bigger agency, and the rest is history.
About 2 years later,I was recently at one of my favorite cafes in that Hipster/Bohemian neighborhood, when none other than supermodel herself walked in. She was eating (barely) lunch with a friend. I had run into a couple of other times, but never approached her, because our one meeting a few years ago I would assume was far gome from her memory.
My sister looked at me and said "Isn't that girl the one from the fashion show awhile ago?"
Then we heard it.
The most arrogant 15 minutes I have ever sat through quietly in my life. Usually I would just punch someone, but I really like this place.
She sat there and bragged about how much more wonderful the food was overseas (TO THE COOK who is one of the sweetest people I know) turned her nose anytime he tried to relate cooking-wise to the conversation, and proceeded to brag very loudly about her escapades as a top model. To add to this lovely display of a humble young woman, she proceeded to act like she owned the place, and yell across the table to her guest (so that all 4 diners and the kitchen staff) could hear about the special treatment she recieves all over town when she returns home after fashion week and so forth. (She made sure to emphasize that her meals at very high end restauraunts here were USUALLY free...after insulting the cook's meal.)
My sister stopped me from doing something incredibly stupid, like saying something just as catty, but I controlled myself, and instead, walked out like a lady, tipping the man who cooked for us well over 30%.
Because I know where I come from, no matter where i go or what I become, it's tha values of where I grew up that kept me grounded while trying to still keep my teenage innocence about me in a world that could forxe you to grow up, devour you, spit you out and leave you Jaded.
Besides, even the smallest bit of encouragement from each person here helped me real my goal, and without it, I may have never experienced something so special.
People here still can't fuckin drive though.
(Photo Source, Kim Noorda by Laurie Bartley for Harper's Bazaar UK June 10 "On the Road" via )
*The model in question is obviously not Kim Noorda.
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