TAMPA BAY MODELING
short story series about the adventures of a model By C. A. Passinault
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model stood in front of a mirror, eying the fit of an expensive gown.
She liked this one, and paid special attention to the way the fabric hung
off of her breasts. Around her were fifteen other models, each doing their
own thing in the down time that they had. It was a welcome break. Among
them was Cameron Passi, who sat in a corner with her back to the wall.
She had been watching the other girls while sipping on a cold bottle of
She was both sore and tired. Cameron tilted her head back and closed her
eyes. It had been a long day of rehearsing. The other models were still
very talkative, and some of them were in bad moods. She realized that
while booking jobs took a lot of leg work, the real challenge was doing
a good job once the job was booked.
Print work was the easiest for her. This was not. Her height was a magnet
for runway jobs, and runway didn't come easy for her. She must have had
two left feet for as long as she remembered, and never had much of an
aptitude for choreography or dance. Imagine that- a model who could not
dance. She looked great on the dance floor, and could dance with a little
practice, but it wasn't easy. Harder still was what was around her. She
rarely had fun working around other models. She tried to be patient with
them, but frankly, models could be so stupid. They acted like high school
girls, and their manner of conduct was frivolous and- dare she think it-
boring. Sometimes they had these little attitudes, too, but ignorance
seemed to be the attribute which summed up most models, and she mused
that the fact that most of them were handled by modeling agencies was
hardly a coincidence. No wonder modeling scams made a killing in this
industry, and Tampa Bay seemed to be modeling scam-central lately.
Cameron noticed that the model in front of the mirror was still there,
admiring herself. Whatever she likes to do. People like her believed what
they were told, and they were incapable of thinking for themselves. What
a rocket scientist she was.
A tall woman in her 50's came in. She was dressed casual but carried herself
with refined elegance that only a hundred years as a fashion model could
bring. She was like a model-Jedi of sorts, and made Cameron feel like
she had a lot to learn. Perhaps she did. This was Mila, a fashion model
from Europe who was directing a fashion runway event in downtown Tampa.
She had booked fifteen other models and Cameron to do the show, and so
far one model has been terminated. She was sure that more were to follow.
Cameron rose to her feet. Her legs wobbled.
"Alright ladies, your fitting is done. We shall go through it again.
We need to be quicky. Quicky is the key. Walking is almost ready, but
you models are not quicky enough. Hold up the procession and the whole
show falls apart."
She looked at Cameron.
"Cameron and Ericka, I need to see you. Pronto, pronto! Follow me
to the stage. Amy Jo, you too."
Cameron, Ericka, and Amy Jo filed in and followed Mila past the curtains
onto a huge stage. The stage marked the beginning of a long runway that
was still being set up. Cameron had a million thoughts going through her
head. What now? What had she done wrong? This could not be good. She knew
Mila had a temper. Just yesterday a model broke down in tears and she
had tore into her. The model was sent packing. This lady was terrifying
This could not be good at all. Cameron noticed the looks on the faces
of the two other models. Ericka, a girl who stood 5' 10'' and looked like
the ethnic Supermodel Iman, seemed like she was about to cry. Amy Jo,
a beautiful red head who stood as tall as Cameron's 5' 8'', looked pissed.
What was to become of them? Cameron had never been dismissed from a job,
and she wasn't going to start today.
"Ladies, we need to work on your walk. You must learn your marks
and the proper pacing by tomorrow. You must dress quickly. There will
be no excuses."
"Miss Mila, we are trying our best." Ericka replied.
"Try- try- what is this try? I need to see you do! I do not understand
how such beautiful models cannot do this. It is easy. See. You watch me."
Mila started to walk down the runway. She seemed to glide over the unfinished
She stopped in the middle briefly. "You stop here for full body shot
from weasel photographers in along runway".
She continued to the end of the runway. She stopped, her back to them,
and posed for an audience that was not there. "You smile for weasel
photographers here. They get close up of your beautiful faces. You cannot
see me, but I am setting their cameras on FIRE!"
She walked back to them, back into a flawless glide. "Turn your head
to the side and give the weasels a profile to photograph!"
She was once again before them. "See, it is easy. Do not forget this.
Cameron saw a glimpse of red. She noticed that Mila's toe was bleeding.
Mila seemed to read her mind.
Mila pointed at her toe. She raised her foot. "If this happens, you
keep walking. You do not have time for discomfort. The professional runway
model deals with inconvenience after the show. This runway- it is not
finished. I stumbled."
Cameron looked at her. "When did you stumble? That was perfect!"
"That is what you must work toward. I made a mistake and you never
knew. You all have much work to do!"
Page: In The
Realm Of The Jedi Models
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2004 Independent Modeling. All rights reserved. Used with permission.
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