I’ve been a model most of my life, and though no longer considered a glamorous one, still feel I’m first chair, if you will, in the orchestra of flair and fashion.
Though my chin has taken a left unassisted by the surgically adept, my face ,for a fifty-plus gal, can still turn a head. Okay, it might not be George Clooney’s, but you get what I’m saying.
Sadly, despite how great you look, all an agent sees is your age that puts you in the burial file. Yes, the last cabinet by the bathroom where old models go to die.
I was requested for a Depends ad. I knew about it beforehand having been sent an email asking if I minded being submitted. I thought when I took this woman out of my contacts she would have taken that for a no, but instead, went ahead and submitted me anyway.
They’ve come up before always avoided like the plague: I’m unwell…I’m working…Sorry, I’m in Russia.
Oh really? You don’t say.
The thought of disappearing into the bathroom to jump in a diaper holds such little appeal. The least they could have is an open bar, and nuts. I don’t care if it is before noon. Incontinence is one thing I blissfully DO NOT suffer from, and yes, I know it’s just an ad.
But here’s the thing.
People see you proclaiming your dryness in Woman’s Day, Good Housekeeping, AARP and assume you leak in between planes or on the subway platform if you forget to add that soft, absorbent layer to your thong, which by the way, does not cooperate.
It retaliates by going up your butt a good twenty feet terrorized by the annal intrusion.
And the idea of donning a pair of undies the size of Biscayne I’m pretty sure will not see the light of day…at least my day anyway.
Camille, who was not requested so she says, told me I’m being silly and unprofessional because the job pays so well. Of course, how else would they get someone to publicly parade around with such pathetically acute panty-line?
Humiliation is pricy.
“And you’re not exactly in the position to turn down good money Susannah…think of those medical bills.”
“I think I won’t, thank-you very much…oops, got another call.”
Am I going?
Me and my thong are on the fence.
I’ll let you know…or not…
it all depends.