My Modelling Career Ended Before It Began

I can't remember if I mentioned before about how I got asked to model in a benefit for The Gathering Place over at the hoity-toity mall on the east side...

 Well, that happened, and I agreed for some reason.

 And today, I drove over to Beachwood Place to have my fitting. I was told to go to a particular designer section at Dillard's Department Store. As I walked up, I was just horrified. To say the style of these clothes was "not me" was the understatement of the century. Don't believe me? Google "Peter Nygard for Dillard's" and have yourself a nice little chuckle.

 This is what the girl wanted to put me in:

First of all... perhaps no one ever explained to this girl the fact (and my personal philosophy) that:

a) tights are not leggings and/or b) LEGGINGS ARE NOT PANTS!

So I immediately vetoed her request to put me in a pair of leggings.  As pants.  And then she told me she just loved that jacket.  I wrinkled my nose at her.  Told her that, no offense, but this was the sort of shit I picture fancy grannies wearing.  She told me she wears it.  She was easily younger than me.  Ugh...  As she wandered, STUNNED, around her horrid department she started to get more visibly irritated with trying to find something for me to wear.  She'd started saying she really wanted to find something I'd feel comfortable in and after about 2 minutes, snipped, "Well, I guess you just won't like what you're wearing."

This is when I left.

I called my contact at The Gathering Place and explained the situation.  She apologized profusely and explained that all they get is an age and a clothing size.  So I guess this is how people expect a 37 year old size 12 to dress?  Ughhhhh.  Horrible.  The Gathering Place gal was super sweet, though, and said she'd call the coordinator at the mall and try something else.  A few minutes later, I got a call back from another woman.  As I explained that I have turquoise striped hair and am heavily tattooed from the neck down (including one that says FUCK) and that to me, dressing up meant striped tights and motorcycle boots, she told me I could go to a store I'd never heard of, Cache, and see if that was more appropriate for me.

I guess people just don't understand "edgy" - or they have a sort of sad view of it... but this is what I saw in the window of Cache:

Shoulders not included.  No.  Just, no.  I apologized profusely.  I genuinely did feel bad.  But seriously?  This could not be less of a "me" situation.  There is a lot of shit I could pull off fashion-wise.  But Peter Nygard and Cache are NOT it.  Yuck yuck yuck...

I guess I just wasn't meant to be a model.  And I think I'm ok with that...

Xxo, Phoebe

PS - No offense intended to anyone who thinks any of these designers/stores/clothes are the bee's knees.  I would not expect anyone but me to get married in a Ramones t-shirt and Docs... We all have our things.  These just aren't mine.