I'm kind of a big deal.
I'm a model.
I do my little turn on the catwalk. And, I am way too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan.
A couple weeks ago, my friend sent me text encouraging me to be a hair model for a hair show that was coming to our area--they needed models that were over 5'8".
So, my over 5'8" self showed up on Sunday, throwing caution to the wind. I decided I'd go along with whatever they might want to do with my hair. Except for a mohawk. No mohawks for me.
You see, while I play the suburban stay-at-home mama in real life, there's something down deep inside me that longs to be a bit of a rebel. I want to express my weirdness on the outside. I really want to get my nose pierced. I kinda want a tattoo on the inside of my wrist too. But---since I'm pretty sure Brad would consider leaving me if I got a tattoo, I figured I'd settle on a fun, new hair cut.
Until Sunday, the only rebellious looking thing on me was the small silver hoop I have in the piercing on the top of my left ear, and maybe my toe ring. Are those even cool anymore? I don't care---love my toe ring. I've had it for years.
Anyway, as I was sitting at this model call the short, eccentric Italian man, who seemed to be in charge, announced that he needed a virgin with a good neck. At this, I was whisked out of my seat and into his chair.
What's a virgin with a good neck? Someone who has never colored her hair, and has a nice neck.
There is in his chair, this virgin became a bit of a whore, in a strictly hair-dye sense.
So, here are the facts:
*I did strut my stuff on a stage, but I left the camera at home, so Brad could take pictures of the girls in my absence---way more important!
*The eyeliner they use may never come off--I've tried, twice, to wash it off.
*Being a model is actually very humbling work, I found out. It is not about the model AT ALL--it's about presenting a product. So, while I got to get all dolled up for a bit---it wasn't about making me feel pretty, it was about showing off their art work on the canvas that was my hair.
*The short, eccentric Italian guy made two girls cry, because he cut their hair shorter than they expected. He shaved one girl's head. I was really glad he didn't want to shave my head. I guess there's where my rebelliousness comes to a grinding halt. That and mohawks.
*I really, really love, love, love, love my hair in all its red, purple, pink, orangeness!
*I've been to New York. I had a layover in Milan once. I've never been to Japan, but I'm pretty sure, for a moment, I was too sexy for all three of them.
*I have terrible, laughable "model" face.
*You're welcome for putting the lyrical genius of Right Said Fred in your head this morning.