I thought I was pretty.... then I became a model.

It’s true. I thought I was pretty…until I became a model.

I was never the conceited type that thought I was God’s most beautiful creation but I didn't think anything was “wrong” with me. The truth is I was more concerned with sports and having fun with my brothers growing up than spending time in the mirror.  My parents lavished me with love and compliments,  my dad always telling me that I was a red corvette, my mom made me feel like I could be whatever I wanted to be, and my brother’s taught me how to hold my own in any and every situation so I never had a shortage of confidence. My world never revolved around looks. Then when I went to play basketball at the University of Kentucky I was nicknamed Baller Barbie and was flattered by fans holding signs asking me to marry them and sending me flowers. Still my main focus wasn't on my appearance but it did become more important to me as it seemed to became more important to others. As I was nearing the end of my college career I was approached about doing some modeling and since I was ready for a different adventure than basketball I said why not?

        I remember walking into my first photography meet up where there were about twenty other models there working with photographers to get images for their portfolios. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening. While I was wearing sweats and the extent of beauty products I used before going was a little Carmex on my lips, these girls were all fighting for mirror space as they frantically applied layers of make up, false lashes, and hair extensions. They barely stopped to look down at me when I strolled in wearing my comfy air max sneakers. In their defense they couldn't help to look down on me because they were all wearing 5 inch heels. 
        Whoa, what world did I just get transported to? I was used to a locker room full of girls who thought they were putting effort into their looks if they wore their hair in a pony tail rather than an untamed pineapple on top of their head. Dorthy wasn’t in Kansas anymore.  A make up artist grabbed me up and went to work on me as I pleaded with her to keep it natural looking. A designer was there to quickly hand me a tight fitting dress and fancy swimsuit to wear for the day and before I knew it I had received images of myself that I felt the need to stare at so I could get familiar with that girl I saw starring back at me. The scar that has been on my chin since the time I was a little girl playing football in the back yard was no where to be found. The natural looking eye shadow that I requested to the make up artist was changed into a brilliant turquoise on the images. The designer clothes, meticulously styled make up and hair as well as the retouching done in the editing room turned a college athlete who knew how to pose a little bit from all the promotional team photo shoots and watching America's Next Top Model into a real model. 

        Legitimate modeling jobs started coming my way left and right. There I was doing beauty ads in major magazines, fashion editorials, and commercials for major brands and designers along side girls who had dreamed of this their whole lives. For a while I just went with the flow but then I started to notice something. Every time I showed up on set my look was altered by make up artists and hairstylists. Fake lashes, hair extensions, and padded bras were always used to “enhance” my beauty. As I flipped through the magazines that I was in or went to the website’s flaunting their products through my photos I noticed that they always “fixed” something about me. Sometimes they made my skin and eyes lighter, sometimes they made my waist look smaller, me teeth whiter, my nose thinner, my hair fuller, and on and on and on. But what happened without me even being aware of it was that I started wearing more make up to “fix” what I had been taught wasn’t perfect about me. A little lip liner to plump the lips, heavy mascara for dramatic eyelashes, foundation for perfect skin to name a few. I started using more hair products, wearing designer clothes and unconsciously making myself “pretty” like my modeling work showed me to be. The confusing part was that at one shoot they would make my eye brows thick and then the next thin, at one shoot they made my skin look pale and the next bronze so I was never quite settled on what look to try to achieve.  I was caught up in the matrix. 

It’s a bit ironic that what woke me up was seeing myself in my dream job. I landed a job doing print ads and digital media ads for a major athletic company and I was excited to see myself representing them. Finally, the images came and all I could look at were those big boobs in their latest sports bra. Anybody who knows me know that I’m a petite girl. Those full Cs that I was seeing had been added in the editing room and I was so disappointed.  Where the heck did those come from? I asked myself as I looked down at my barely B chest. This was a pivotal moment for me because I could have easily been persuaded that I needed to look like the image I saw in front of me and been unhappy with my own body.

But rather than being disappointed in myself like the ad and all ads intend to make people feel about themselves in order to motivate them to buy the products that will “fix” them, I was disappointed in the brand, the photographer who edited the photo, and in our society that has come to this! This was a brand that was suppose to empower people to live healthy lifestyles and here they were preying on the insecurities of women who don't feel like their bodies are good enough and will never be good enough until they are edited. Let’s be honest, thats the reason our society is addicted to social media. Rather than having real life interactions with people that can see your unique traits that society may not glamorize, see your flaws (that we all have), see you wearing an old t shirt and sweat pants that would never get 100+ likes, we can hide behind our devices with our outfit that was put together just for those 200 selfies at 30 different angels then use the app that makes your waist look smaller and your booty look bigger, slap that beauty filter on it, use the right hashtags, and if all that still doesn’t make it perfect enough to gain more followers we can just go buy some. Because we aren't really attractive. We aren't really worthy of anyone being attracted to the real us, so society wants us to believe.

       That thing you keep obsessing about in the mirror can be fixed by a new expensive contouring kit. That fat on your waist can be transferred to a different part of your body for the right price. You can add a couple kilos of indian hair to your head by one click on the internet. You can buy that new product that makes you thinner, or makes your lips bigger, or makes your freckles disappear, or that body suit that pushes your boobs up, or that jacket that makes you look like you shop on Rodeo Dr. You can buy that perfume that made the model in the ad look like she just had great sex, you can buy that shampoo that makes your hair as silky smooth as the model’s hair in the ad you just saw that was computer generated. You can buy those heels that are red at the bottom so you can look seven feet tall like the photographer made that model in the ad look as he laid on the floor  to get an angle to make you envy her legs. You can buy that waist trainer that the those famous sisters claim to have made their waists so small. And if you can’t afford those things you can always just make starve yourself or make yourself throw up after you eat. Or you can start selling your body to make enough money to purchase those must have products. Or you can start sleeping with any guy who gives you attention to make yourself feel as pretty as those models and celebrities. And sadly, society would be okay with that.

  OR YOU CAN STOP THE MADNESS!!!! You can stop looking through all of the so called beauty magazines that are 80% advertisements to make you feel like you need those products to be beautiful, happy, successful, and important. You can stop scrolling through those fake instagram accounts wondering why you can’t get that body even though you burn 1500 calories on the tread mill. You can shut down men who want to use you as their sex object and throw you away when they see a new shinny toy.  You can stop questioning yourself and wondering if he cheated on you because you didn’t have a certain physical attribute that the girl on Twitter has. You can realize that you were created by the Almighty God who makes no mistakes and made you in His image. You can open the bible and learn that God loves you so much that He knows how many hairs are on your head. You can encourage other women to feel better about themselves which will help you see how special you are too. You can use social media to inspire others rather than to show off. 

       It’s funny, my husband always seems to compliment me most when I feel like I look the worst. Every model complains about having to show up onset with a clean face (no make up) because they are embarrassed to let others see the real them. But it’s in my most vulnerable moments I catch my husband starring at me, without a stitch of make up on and then he says something like “You are so beautiful!l” or “Your skin glows” or “You have some pretty eyes”.  I think to myself .....wait I thought that eye liner was what made my eyes pretty, or that bb cream that made my skin look nice, or that brow pencil that made my eyebrows frame my face the right way…. then I shake my head and remember how they have sold us lies.

           I have been developing aspiring models and actors for now for almost 10 years and I’m amazed to see how these young women never see themselves as I do. I see pure beauty and they see the need for products to make themselves pretty enough to model. I see potential and they see celebrity ads that makes them feel like they could never get a certain gig because they are too big or too small or their hair isn't the right texture, or their nose is too big or teeth aren’t straight enough. Helping others have the opportunity to walk the runway for the first time, see themselves on TV,  and to experience many of the exciting things I did while working as a model brings me great joy, but what I love most is helping them see the TRUTH  about themselves. The truth about ALL of us. We are all beautiful in our own way. I love instilling confidence in aspiring talent that is so real they can't help but to teach it to others and make this world a more beautiful place, not artificially but in the true sense of the word. 

       
         Don't get me wrong, I totally encourage you to take care of yourself and look your best. I don’t think there is any harm in the occasional shopping trip for some new threads and beauty products, or that we should neversplurge on a beauty treatment here and there. (Just ask my husband hehe) And no, I don’t think it’s a sin to use snap chat filter. BUT let’s be aware of the brain washing that’s going on in our society, especially to females. Empower yourself by understanding the agenda of those beauty magazines and that entire industry. Sorry to break it to you but they don’t publish those magazines to make you feel better about yourself. The ugly truth is they publish the magazines and all other beauty ads to make you feel flawed, inferior, and in need of “fixing” so you will buy the products. And once you've got one trend down, boom, they change it up to again make you feel like you need more. It's not you boo, it's them! So break up with "them"! They are not worthy of your time, effort, money, concern, or happiness. They are liars. 

         I now have a little girl of my own who is just 2 years old and I can’t help but to look at her and swoon over her beauty. She has all these unique attributes that make her wonderfully her. Those little curly locks, her big bright eyes, the adorable little gap between her teeth, and my favorite, her cute little dimple chin. I couldn’t imagine her being more beautiful. I hope and pray that she doesn't buy the lies that are constantly sold to us from a young age. I hope and pray the same for you.

Don’t drink the Kool- Aid, as my husband would say, don't drink the Kool-aid. 

Angela G. Wright

@Ang______________

                                                                     The photo above is the photo I was talking about from that first photography work shop and below is from one of my college games no too long before that model shoot. 

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30