Confession of an Internet Supermodel

In a nutshell, and in a lot of words, here’s the story of my rise and eventual dismount from Internet Supermodel ‘stardom.’ Seriously, this is a long read, so you might wanna get comfortable. 

My God-given talent was/is comic/graphic art. And probably writing, too, but that's still out for debate.

However, for a really long time – I wanted it to be modeling and acting. Mostly acting, but I thought I could transition to acting from the modeling industry – you know, like Cindy Crawford (Fair Game w/ William Baldwin). And so, I wasted my natural talent in favor of looking for attention – because really, that’s probably what it was about (#issues). It was me wanting to be noticed. Nowadays we have social media; back then, you had to legit go old school and work to be seen. 

No one really notices comic book artists except other comic book artists, friends, family … and fanboys/girls. And while it’s cool to be all things nerdy now, back when I was a kid, being a nerd meant you got to sit at the corner table at lunch and you don't get to have a boyfriend. 

Plus, there was no big money in comic book illustration.

But if you’re an actor/model, you’re global; and people notice because you’re EVERYWHERE. And there’s a s*** ton of money in it if you’re lucky. Who wouldn't want that? Right? Right?! 

I learned anyone can be a model.

It’s the truth! All you need is a willingness to accept a modified version of what you think of as success in the modeling industry as well as a certain amount of naivete ... or stupidity. 

Both of which I had plenty. 

My first experience in modeling happened before the Internet while I was still in high school. I was approached by a photographer in the mall who said he would give me copies of the photos if I agreed to model for him.

Like an idiot, I thought, “this is my big break. People get discovered in malls all the time! Right?”

Yes, by predators, pedophiles and pervs … But my mom, surprisingly, was on board, and somehow she got my dad to agree to it as well. It was really surprising considering the photographer’s list of things to bring included lingerie. My mom provided a very modest nightgown.

Very modest.

It wasn't even this
professional looking.
Hashtag, "Wronkled
Up Bed Sheets."

So, I found myself at the photographer’s house a few nights later, in a back bedroom studio, while my parents waited. They had no idea this guy wanted me to take off the nightgown he had requested I bring to the shoot – at 16 years old. I also never told my parents he tried to convince me that models had to learn to get naked before they could make it as a model at all.

The guy turned out to be nothing more than a pervert that wanted to get under-aged girls naked. Turns out, there are a lot of those out there, waiting for stupid girls like me. My heart was broken.

That was just the first of many failed attempts at breaking into the entertainment industry. I say breaking in because if I belonged there, I’m sure the doors would have been open for an easier entrance. 

But, once the Internet happened, it was like a backdoor to a place I wasn’t supposed to be …and I was in for a little bit.

ANYONE can be a model? Even ME?

I was an adult before the Internet became a thing. Let me tell you how much easier it is to do things like find agents and photographers online. It’s also easier to be victimized by scams aimed at Hollywood hopefuls - like me. Fortunately, regardless of ease, I was still too poor (and a little too cheap) to invest much money in things like getting an agent, my portfolio, headshots and classes. Of which I later learned shouldn’t have cost much - if any - money at all.

But I had just enough money and stupidity to waste on making decisions that got me nothing except an empty wallet and disappointment.

I might as well have flushed all that
$$$ down the toilet. 

Soon, though, I had to put my aspirations of being famous on hold because I didn’t have any more money to throw at people like I didn’t need it anymore. I got a real job and started trying to save to move to a land of better opportunities. 

You know, where there was a better chance for me to get swindled out of even more money or accidentally fall into porn.

Luckily, that never happened because real life swept me up in its current – far away from those dreams and into real life and being a mom. And for a while, I went back to pursuing my art and my back up dream of comic book illustrating.

Real life stuff.

Then the Internet was born sometime after the birth of my only child. Not the DOS based BBS systems or even the AOL chatrooms. I'm talking full-blown Google and social media. It was a magical place of knowledge, opportunity and, seemingly, a way to fulfill my hopes and dreams.

Not really. 

It was just easier access to misinformation and more predators willing to tell you anything to take your money, dignity, hopes and dreams and destroy them in a really ugly way. But now they didn’t have to come to you in a mall, because you are going to them via the cyber-highway. God help me if I ever do somehow become widely known, because there are some photos of me I’d dig my own grave to get away from.

Mom, Dad … I’m sorry. But I digress.

So, with the help of the Internet, I was able to model – somewhat. There is always a photographer building his/her portfolio that is willing to trade their time and talent for prints or a CD. 

Who needs this many pictures of themselves?

And I have a lot of prints and CDs for everyone’s time. Like … seriously, I may have hundreds of CDs totaling thousands and thousands of photos.

The Internet made it possible for me to get in front of the cameras of a lot of photographers – seasoned and beginners. It helped my self-esteem and kept my body dysmorphia at a manageable level. But it was also an education in reality.

One of the first TFP shoots I ever did -
 post baby. Photo credit:
Savage Photography

Like … in reality, I would never be a supermodel. I am too short and built like a tall, curvy person … just on a small person’s frame. So, I was basically phat. 

Further research revealed that legit models and actors had legit agents and got paid. Those legit artists lived in legit cities with legit ties to legit studios, castings and projects.

Not Fayetteville, North Carolina, where the only legit anything was the scam to idiot ratio.

And even though I sent my new talent packets to several (read: ALL) out of town agencies … I fell short of the ‘legit’ criteria to be what the industry would call a real, paid model.

But ...all this new knowledge came with a consolation prize – I could be a B-level model if I was willing to bend the rules a little and travel - on my own dime. I might not be ideally located to prove my A-List potential or tall enough to grace the cover of …well, any magazine, but …

One of my favorite shoots. Photo credit:
Eric Foltz. 

At 5’1”, I could be a bikini, nude or glamour model for a lot of photographers – for their own portfolio or even stock images for ads. If I was lucky enough, maybe one would trade for headshots so I could try my chops at acting in local, independent films - eventually. All I had to do was sign up on networking web sites dedicated to introducing wannabe models to people in the industry who could help by creating opportunities for exposure and portfolio development.

I look sooo hungry.
Photo Credit: Tom Sapp

So, I created an online portfolio on a few of the bigger sites thinking this would jump-start my ‘career.’ Within days (months), I was Insta-famous. If you typed my name in Google, I owned the first five pages. Okay, I might be exaggerating a little, but not much. 

However, after a while, I realized something important.

Although a lot of photographers wanted to take my picture, I wasn't getting legit, paid work. And hardly anyone I was working with had real connections to the industry. But, I didn’t care. Because, by that point, it wasn’t about the money. It was about being a ‘model.’ Even a ‘not so real’ one. It was about the attention and feeling pretty for the length of a photoshoot and the positive feedback on what I posted on the Internet.

Photo Credit: Walter Arce

For a few years, I took advantage of the opportunity to collaborate with several amazing photographers and collect a s***load of pictures of myself. And I was able to enjoy a certain amount of Internet fame on several networking sites. My name was pretty well-known buuuuut ... I didn’t really do anything to earn rockstar status. Even I knew there were prettier ‘models’ out there. I selfishly enjoyed and made the most out of every opportunity. It was fun, I enjoyed working on some pretty cool projects, traveling and ... learning about photography from some of the top photographers. 

I traveled the East and West Coast - even to Canada - to work with some amazingly talented photographers that I knew I had no business working with at the time as I wasn’t really adding value to their portfolio.

At least, I didn’t think so. 

In my own mind, I became the biggest joke I knew. If I had to be perfectly honest about my looks, I’d say that I have a workable face and the perfect body for Photoshop. I know, because I photoshop the s*** out of it when I can.

This could be the title of me
book ... 

Maybe they (the photographers) figured one day, I’d write a best-selling book that would catapult the value of all the photos they’ve taken of me. Maybe I should pay them back for their kindness by not procrastinating since that was my plan over the last several years. Maybe ... 

Another fave
Photo Credit: Serdar Design

I enjoyed my time in front of the camera, though. It felt good to be ‘someone’ for a little while. I was bigger than the somewhat-normal life I lived. When MySpace was a thing, my page was pretty popular. I had a lot of ‘friends’ and fans. Sometimes, I was even recognized in public.

Like, the few times I went to a popular, local Irish pub the musician would introduce me on stage as the 'model' with the sexiest pictures online, 'like, masturbation material.'  

Which wasn’t really a compliment, I guess … 

 And another fave: Photo Credit: Larry Baglio, NY

Yes, I was really in an ad.
Photo credit: Tom Sapp. 

There are a lot of words I would use to describe myself, but sexy is not one of them. Yet, when I was looking at the pictures to put together this blog, I experienced a certain amount of pride because, they were/are great shots. But the girl in those pictures was/is not me. It was like looking at a totally different person. Sometimes I felt guilty for accepting all the attention. But then I’d think of all the years I was made fun of for being a dorky, Dungeons and Dragons playing, comic book reading, nerd … and decided I deserved to feel pretty - and relevant.

Glad to know my bad hair day
made a great stock photo.
Photo credit: Walter Arce

And, YES, to all the haters (yeah, I have those) who campaigned to call me out behind my back and online – you’re right. Me = not a real model. BUT, none of you were genuinely nice people, so I feel we are even.

If I was in a magazine, if my photos ended up printed online or in a commercial, I didn’t know about it. Whenever anyone assumed I had done bigger things than I had, I let them. Why not? It wasn’t really a lie … okay, so maybe it was a little one, but by omission only.

SEE WHAT I MEAN?
This is me as a kid. 

After all, if you could see the pics of me as a pre-teen/teen, you’d agree I deserved just a little tiny bit of my stolen Internet stardom. Enough so that when I would come across a former school crush online who didn’t look twice at me as an awkward kid, I could be like, “Yeah, that’s right, look at me now.” Or then ... 

Juvenile? Totally. Justified? Maybe a little. C’mon, we’ve all been there. I’m just willing to admit it.

These days you can find me behind
the camera.
Photo credit: Selfie.

Nowadays, I prefer to be behind the camera. When I first picked up photography, I was surprised to meet a lot of people who had the same body and self-esteem issues I was dealing with even as an adult. If I can give just one person an ounce of the confidence all those photographers gave me, then I feel like I’m paying it forward. Not to sound all benevolent and stuff, but making people feel good about who they are and how they look is better than being popular or ‘famous.’

Because we don’t see us the way other people do. Sometimes people need to experience that truth - it makes a difference.  

I suppose I owe the World Wide Web a great, big, thank you for allowing me the opportunities in B-level modeling that somehow catapulted me to local, online celebrity status. But, like all things that aren’t really supposed to be a thing, it had to end sometime, right?

During my time as a model and somewhat popular local celeb, I learned a few things about the industry and myself. Mostly about myself.

In my natural habitat.

1)    It’s not easy modeling. Your appearance is the most important thing about you when you’re a model. If you got it, that’s wonderful. If you don’t, it’s a lot of work to fake it – which is where I messed up. I lived with an eating disorder for 25 years. That’s a long time to be hungry. It’s also a good way to kill your body slowly and leave lasting damage on your insides and outsides. Just ask me. There is still hair where there shouldn't be, my teeth are off-white and my gag reflex is damaged ... 

2)    Being pretty and popular is not what you think it will be and I wished I hadn’t spent so much time wishing and trying to be someone else. I’m not a stupid girl, but I sure spent a lot of time being stupid.

3)    Everyone has a talent, so when you find yours, don’t waste it. Life is too short for avoidable regrets. Always work for what you want and find your own success. Because even though I didn't become 'world-famous,' I was still able to enjoy doing something creative as a model and even as an actress in such notable titles as, "Song of the Lesbian Pirates" and "X-Gen." Both of which are available for viewing online and neither of which I am that great in ... 

To all the photographers I’ve had the pleasure of working with, know that I appreciated each and every opportunity, and I miss it a lot sometimes. Also, should I become a famous novelist or stumble into the lead role of being Gerard Butler’s love interest in a film, I implore you to please keep my worst photos out of the tabloids. Besides, you won’t make A-list money off of them. Thank you.

I will leave you with this random thread I found while Googling my name to see what came up. Sadly, this is pretty much what's left of my Cybermodel legacy ...