My first modeling job in Paris, the photographer said, 'Tue es belle,' which means, 'you are pretty,' and I thought he said, 'Tu es poubelle,' which means, 'you are the trash can.' I burst into tears. He was not happy about that.
I've only done one shoot where it's modeling clothes, not like me in my environment. And the stylist, literally, I had her stand behind the photographer and do poses.
My doctor felt that the main contributing factor was so many years of malnutrition, especially during my formative years, even before I got into modeling.
I've had women tell me that when their daughters see them taking care of themselves, and being defined from within, and thinking for themselves instead of thinking about that silly culture out there, it's powerful modeling.
Anorexia was there for me before I got into modeling, but because of the arena and the demands, the disease really got out of control for me. It's like being an alcoholic and going and being a bartender.
I had 30-something years' experience in modeling, which is rare.
I kind of look at my modeling career and the Alfred Hitchcock years as stepping stones to what I'm doing now.
There was really no friendship in modeling, though a certain amount of warmth comes from running into models you know on shoots, because you end up in so many unfamiliar places, from Alaska to Africa.
The faces I see in the modeling industry can get dull.
A Latin teacher told me I might make a good actress, and that stuck in my memory. I did some modeling, and Polanski gave me that small part.
I wanted to go to acting school, and I did a few modeling jobs to pay for acting school. I never aspired to be a model. I met lots of photographers, and I learned a lot about light - as a source of love and illumination, light as a gift of love. On film, that's a massive contribution.
When I started out modeling, there weren’t casting directors and there weren’t stylists, so you just dealt directly with the designer. We were all much closer back then...
Some people start modeling because they want to be models and they want the parties and the recognition, and then there are people like me. I come from a simple family, and for me getting into modeling was a chance to make money and create a business.
The Hollywood lifestyle was just overwhelming. A party here, an interview there, magazine and modeling shoots daily, your face everywhere and girls throwing themselves at you. As great as it felt at the time, I still felt something missing, and that I needed to change.
I’ve been offered jobs by companies that supported apartheid many times in the 25 years of my modeling career, but I have never taken one of them. I have to refuse that money, because I’m not going to work against my people. They’ve suffered enough.
Well, when I started modeling in the mid-'80s, the girls who did shows did shows, and the girls who did magazines did magazines. That's what was understood.
The industry has died as far as modeling has gone, and I'll tell you why. Magazines are featuring the Halle Berrys and Sarah Jessica Parkers, all the actresses. Makeup companies are featuring all the celebrities. All the models have died.
The ideal girl is driven, working on something other than modeling or being a singer.
A sacrament--like marriage--means living a life better than your natural instincts, so that you're modeling God. And God never gives up.
The most mortifying fact of my life is something that happened when I was fourteen and I have never admitted to anyone: not to friends nor therapists; not even in rehab when we were detailing our own personal spirals of shame did I confess. It is this: I am a graduate of the Barbizon School of Modeling.
L.A. kills people.' Jacaranda said. 'You're lucky you're leaving. You'll be able to write.' She looked paler, going through another depression, smoking in bed in her lilac room. The walls were the color of her veins. She was getting too thin, even for the modeling. . .Jacaranda died last winter when the flowering trees were bare. You couldn't even tell which ones once cried the purple blossoms she named herself after.
So say I’m your mom.' 'What?' I said. 'I’m your mom,' he repeated. 'Now tell me you want to quit modeling.' I could feel myself blushing. 'I can’t do that,' I said. 'Why not?' he asked. 'Is it so hard to believe? You think I’m not a good role-player?' 'No,' I said. 'It’s just–' 'Because I am. Everyone wanted me to be their mother in group.' I just looked at him. 'I just… It’s weird.' 'No, it’s hard. But not impossible. Just try it.' A week earlier, I hadn’t even known what color his eyes were. Now, we were family. At least temporarily.
When I was a girl I creeped in the boys locker room Hide deep inside, it was my little creep stalker room As they disrobed I was oogling & oggling Little did they know that for me they were modeling
I did not particularly enjoy modeling. I felt I was only utilizing 10 or 20 percent of my abilities. In India, it's just another job.
A vision should be judged by the clarity of its values, not the clarity of its implementation path [in Mediated Modeling page 43]
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