I thought I’d reflect on my experience  in the modeling world. As brief as it was, it was a gas. Well, the actual modelling part was. The preparations were a little longer, spanning over weeks. Anyway, it was about December or January when my to-be hairstylist was talking to me about how she needed a head to show off her sweet ‘do she had planned for the event. I, naturally, offered my mediocre scalp for her project. She didn’t need a pretty face, lucky for me; just a good head of hair with a tolerance of hair dye.

This is my first modelling job, ever. An interesting proposition for someone who’s considered themselves inadequate in the looks department. The following weeks were followed by an unnerving amount of stress over the fact that I definitely was NOT “modelling material”. This was just self-pessimism though. (Most people think I’m rather charming and a good looking fellow. Looks like I’ve got some people fooled.) This and having never modeled once in my life, I had no idea what to do. No training, no experience in the industry. Hell, the most product I’ve ever put in my hair was wax. Maybe some emulsifying compound if you want to get fancy, and even then it was cheap stuff and I didn’t do anything spectacular with it.

My cousin had been a model for a while. But her being in Australia and not having a single avenue of communication with her some what hindered my ability to seek consultation. She had been to places like Taiwan, China, the UK, America, Australia and other foreign nations on her modelling career. Just thought I’d boast about having a modelling cousin; moving on.

So, flash forward to about early March, the competition being in mid-late March (Or was it May? the exact date escapes me at this moment). I am now informed I must be blonde. Now, take into account that I have been brunette for about… sixteen years of my life. The first two I was a dirty blonde, but it was closer to a brown then blonde. I would have to endure this hair colour for an entire week before it was died again. The planned colouring was a mix of neon green, forest-ish green and black, with a little yellow. Most of the week con sited of people yellow “HOLY SHIT GARRETT! You’re blonde?!”. That and humorous jokes at my hair’s expense. I actually hated being blonde. Not to the point of angst and everything, but if asked to do it again for modelling I’d probably say yes. But It was not enjoyable in the least. I never liked the idea of being blonde. Not in the slightest.  It was a vision I could not see. Once it was realized, I noted that it made sense that I didn’t want to think about it. I looked ridiculous as a blonde. Horribly so, but no fault on my stylist; I had fully agreed and it was worth it in the end.

Example:

Don’t worry, you’re not the only on that hates the “neutral emo face”

So lets skip the week that I’ll try to repress and move onto when the hair was dyed to the desired colour scheme. Not much to say about this phase other then it was pretty complicated. The amount of hair separation my stylist had to go through to get all the colours right was ridiculous. We had to retry the dye about three times. If the black touched the green, it would turn to yellow. It was like that one kid everyone knows. At dinner the food cannot touch each other on the plate. If it did, he wouldn’t eat it. So after about three sessions of dying we got to the end of the process and the final product, which actually looks pretty good. For a super emo hair do.

So, the colouring was about a day before the competition. Let’s move onto that. This would have been on a Sunday. We get to the ABA’s (Allied Beauty Association) Men’s Trend Competition sign up. Sign in, nothing exciting there. A few people were actually amazed at the style pictured above. One person, a cosmetology teacher at some school that she never mentioned, actually wanted a picture taken to show her kids. This surprised me as this was the raw materials for the up and coming super bad ass hair cut that I received. I guess that shows how good of a hair stylist she was. She could make me look good, and that’s a feat in itself. So we got there at around… 10am-ish, can’t quite recall. Would have been about noon at this point. The Men’s Trend wasn’t until about five in the afternoon, so we walked around a bit more. Some more compliments, etc etc. At this point I was in my outfit that I had to model in (which consisted of a torn up punk rock shirt, can’t remember the band for the life of me even with the photos, and some torn up jeans.) and had my make-up done before hand. The make-up wasn’t too extensive, but having never worn make-up in my life (minus one Halloween where I had eyeliner on my chest to simulate manly pirate chest hair… mothers and their logic…) it was another new experience. This whole event and prep was a cornucopia of new things to do.

So after this, not much else happened. I had a protein bar and some snacks so I didn’t faint or something on the stage (which I thought was weird, but I’m only 125lbs. So I didn’t plan on taking chances) When then moved into the main stage room. There was a heavy mist above my head. I thought this was some sort of fog machine or maybe some strange epiphany. No, it was actually hairspray. Ridiculous, it was a literal haze. We met up with some of her salon-mates and friends. Did a little prep, got my hair wet with ice water. Actually, it wasn’t even ice water. It was just ice. Why, you ask? Warm and hot water bleeds colour out of hair, where as cold does not. And believe me, it was cold. After that we ran back to the stage to get ready. I sat down in the chair and got ready to go to work. And by go to work, I mean sit there and look pretty.

The way she cut my hair was amazing. A flurry of motions as she flourished the various cutting implements with speed and precision. Though the way my head was moved around and my hair was “guided” was slightly painful and abrupt it was worth it for the end product. She cut with so much speed that we had close to ten to twelve minutes left, out of thirty. She then proceeded to eliminate some of the colour we had. There was apparently too much of it, as the regulations stated that only 20% of the hair can be “unnatural” colour. This only took about four or five minutes. She proceeded to style the hair with various products ranging from sprays to waxes. After which, she added a copious amount of hair spray to helpthe hair keep it’s shape. After which she was given a comb and some more spray to tweak and finalize her work of art.

The styling part gave way to modelling. My apparent niche in this competition. It consisted of me sitting in a pose in a chair under hot spot lights for nearly… well time meant nothing in that seat, I could have been there for minutes or days. I had no idea. They would have me stand, my legs shaking like poplars in the wind, and examine my head for close to what I estimated to be around 20 minutes. Then the other models and I sat. Then approximately 10 more minutes of judging. Then the next salvo of judges came. Or at least that’s what it seemed to be, as I did not recognize any of these “new” judges as the previous ones.

At this point something to mention is that my head was not able to move in any direction. This isn’t to say I had a brace of some sort, but the announcer assured us that it was imperative that we move our heads as little as possible. This basically lead to my neck to start throbbing half way through the judging. There were three waves of judges, from what I could tell. It’s not like I could look around to see if there was anyone looking, or any judges (new or previous) behind me. So this went on for what felt close to an hour and a half. Sitting and standing, moving as little and slowly as possible. I was shaking like Micheal J. Fox (too soon?). It was ridiculous. I didn’t think my body could vibrate at frequencies equal to a tractor (fun fact, cats’ purrs have an equivalent frequency of a tractor as well). I thought everyone could see it, which made me shake even more. Positive-feedback loops are a pain. But eventually the next competition started… while we were still modelling. I’m pretty sure I was up there for almost two hours; give or take five minutes.

Well, the modelling portion finished and my poor shaking poplar legs lead me down the run way where I did an awkward turn-around (My stylist later called me on it and laughed. She thought it was “adorable”.) We then went for a photo shoot which resulted in these, my stylist shown in the last of the photos:

We ended up getting fourth place out of twenty competitors. Prizes were given to first, second, and third. We missed third by a mere 0.8 points. That’s like a misplaced hair. Luckily though, the stylist that placed third was a fellow stylist at her salon. On the plus side, I even got to keep the ‘do for a week or two before the colour faded. Which was crazy because green fades ridiculously quick. But then work noticed I had green hair and demanded a remedy. So I got it snipped a little and re-coloured an auburn red, because they wanted a natural colour.

So TL;DR, It was an amazing experience. Not to mention three free colourings and two free cuts. A deal in itself. If you’re ever given the chance to do it, take it. You won’t regret it. Unless your stylist sucks, unlike mine.

The styling and make-up was courtesy of Alannah Zilkowsky of The Twisted Banana.
Her site: http://www.bluntsandbrushes.com/
Twisted Banana’s: http://twistedbanana.ca/Twisted_Banana.html

Thanks for reading this assault on your eyes;

Suburbanite