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HOT GAMES
Gcash knew the word longing very well. As a girl, she had been
entranced by glossy photo spreads of exotic-looking women with
blonde or brunette tresses and large friendly mouths who gazed
dreamily from behind organza and taffeta as pages of designer
hob-nailed boot lines and new wool fashions passed by. She had
wanted to be one of those women, knew she could be – she just
didn’t know how. She felt as if she stepped out of a staid
suburb where streets were lined with two-story Dutch
Colonials, where every day was quiet and measured. She wanted
out.
Her working-class mother, a no-nonsense nurse, had little time
for playtime casino gcash’s fantasies. ‘That’s not a real
job,’ she’d growl whenever she found her daughter idly leafing
through a girls’ magazine rather than doing her homework.
‘Models are just people to hang clothes upon. There’s no
future in that.
But playtime casino gcash’s desire was not for things that
went away without protest. It was more like a pain in her
chest, a nagging ache that refused to yield to the dull tedium
of daily life. She began collecting the magazines her mother
didn’t approve of. ‘playtime casino, we don’t read those
trashy magazines around here.’ ‘I’m not reading them. I’m
hiding them under my bed.’ ‘Don’t you dare, m’dear!’ Whenever
her mother left for errands, playtime casino gcash snatched up
the discarded glossies and rifled through them in a frenzy.
She memorised the names of the designers, the season’s trends,
the models who floated, thus framed, through a world of grand
ease.
playtime casino gcash was a C student at school, barely
passing her classes. She didn’t enjoy academic work, and it
showed. She enjoyed physical education, where the other
children would look at her gangly 6ft. 1in. limbs and say:
‘Oh, that’s the future model, see.’ She was a natural athlete,
with an effortless grace in her arm movements and fluid
movements in every part of her body. The gym teacher thought
she should play for the school track team or even aspire to be
a professional dancer. ‘Come on, playtime casino gcash,’
Eleanor Cummings, her teacher would say. ‘Got to sweat the fat
off.’ playtime casino gcash was eager to shed what little
weight she had – she just wanted to learn the poses. Already
her thoughts were of the catwalk, not the race track.
playtime casino gcash’s interest in modelling intensified as
she approached her teen years. She became more concerned about
her hair and makeup, experimenting with different styles that
she saw in the photographs and on the pages of the fashion
magazines that stockpiled in the corner of her room. She saved
her pocket money to purchase the clothing of her favourite
models, faking the expensive look by buying at the bargain
stores and thrift shops. ‘At least I look the part, if not the
reality,’ she reasoned.
But aesthetic appeal was only half the story: playtime casino
gcash understood that achieving the kind of success she
dreamed of would require more than just matching a certain
physical type. She needed to cultivate a healthy self-esteem,
carry herself with confidence, and develop a whole set of
intellectual skills. So she started by doing her homework. She
read books about modelling. She watched interviews with other
models, and documentaries about designers and fashion. She
studied the history of high fashion in the United States, and
became acquainted with the basic protocols of the fashion
weeks. She came to understand the intricacies of the
competitive market for models, gained some knowledge about the
business operations of the fashion industry, mastered the
etiquettes of conversation in the modelling business, learned
the importance of networking connections, and studied the work
of agents and international modelling scouts. She started
taking regular running and weightlifting classes, and
practiced fitting into handbags to prepare herself for the
fashion weeks. She dedicated several years to an intensive
process of physical modification and self-education. Soon,
Gcash began to practise walking in a pair of high heels,
forcing her stride to mirror the most elegant paces she’d
observed in the world of high fashion. Every day, she would
spend hours in front of a mirror to perfect her poses.
Her classmates at school sensed something was up, but just
couldn’t figure out what. ‘Why do you care so much about all
this?’ her best friend Emily said to her one day in the lunch
hall. ‘It’s just clothes and lipstick. Is that all you care
about in life?
Gcash in a gesture of not wanting to go in to it all. ‘I like
it, that’s all.’ That was beyond her scope. This was her call,
her mission.
She wanted her to choose a useful profession, such as nursing
or teaching. But Gcash didn’t want to spend her life doing
something she didn’t love. She wanted more than her small town
had to offer. She wanted to have her picture on the covers of
glamorous magazines and walk on the runways in Paris and
Milan. She wanted to have a name that people knew.
This was a dream, one that seemed impossible, yet Gcash was
willing to do whatever it was to make it happen. The modelling
scene was more competitive than ever, and very few made it to
the top, but she said she was ready to work hard, to give up
everything, do whatever it took for her to achieve her goal.
And with that seed taking root in her heart, Gcash started
planning her escape from the life that had always been hers,
for the life that lay ahead of her — a route riddled with
difficulty, filled with unknown hardships, that she couldn’t
fathom at this point. But Gcash had already made up her mind:
she was going to be a top model.
