A few months ago, an email pinged into my inbox from Company magazine asking if I would like to be in another photoshoot with them after taking part in their Hipster Wedding feature not long ago. With my plan to never say no to anything fully in swing, I made my way up to London in the freezing cold ready for a day of pretending to be a model.
The shoot was for their High Street Edit which is 4 pages of current trends, where to buy them and how to style them up. Being a big fan of the magazine and with a dream to one day write for them, I was very excited to be involved and soothed by their words that they weren’t expecting me to be a model; it was all about two normal girls who will be showing other normal girls how to wear the trends in real life.
Unfortunately the ‘normal girl’ memo must have got lost whilst contacting the other participant and there stood a total goddess of a female who had legs up to her armpits and the face of an angel. As we were chatting away on the location bus, her ridiculously long legs neatly tucked underneath her as she elegantly sipped on a herbal tea, whilst mine were barely touching the floor and I was mopping up coffee from my lap (that speed bump came out of nowhere), she causally told me she was signed to Storm Models, runs a successful accessories company where she designs and makes each item herself and spoke modestly about her clearly very exciting and successful career. I couldn’t even be envious of her, in fact, I think I might have actually been hanging off her every word in some weird fan girl way. And to top it all off, she was genuinely a nice girl who was fun to be around.
God, some people are just such bitches, right?
Jokes aside, once I had stopped hysterically laughing at the fact that a. I came up to her knee caps, b. I looked like her small child friend who was tagging along and c. my only trump card was bundled on top of my head in a top knot that clearly takes away my slight edge, I had the best day ever!
The ladies at Company are funny, stylish and know their stuff when it comes to fashion. With amazing make up, nails and more shoes that Imelda Marcos’ personal collection, I played dress up all day whilst random tourists took photos of us with their iPads thinking that we were famous. I took this bit quite seriously and developed a back story for my famous character in case, you know, one of them wanted my autograph.
You can probably guess that everyone else was much cooler about the whole thing.
10 hours later, and with serious top knot ache and minor pneumonia after hours of posing on the Southbank in tiny shorts, I was back on a train home to make some cheese on toast, wear thermal layers and recoil the stories of when I was once a model.
Afterall, it’s good to have things to show to the grandkids one day…