Imagine being 15 years old and referred to a very prestigious modeling program, known around the world. I had come back from a whirlwind summer of parties and young starlit hobnobbing and wanted more, I was told that I needed a press kit, representation and to be trained up a bit.

The couple television spots I had landed as fun time summer gigs were just the beginning. You see to get started lots of child stars would get there starts on kids T.V. shows like Double Dare, Jeopardy for Kids or Star Search; which for you youngsters was the predecessor to American Idol or America’s Got Talent.

I came home with the golden ticket to join Elite Model and Talent agency also known as M.T.M in hand. No try outs, no crazy mall stuff, I was just “in like Quinn” because it is always who you know. I starved myself becoming bulimic, which ruined my throat, to get all the baby fat off.

“You are still too fat! they would say at every weigh in, “and you better hope for a growth spurt if you ever want a chance at the runway! Maybe you can be a hand model.” Honestly I had no desire to be on the runway at all, at 5′ 6″ I already knew my chances were going to be slim anyways. “It’s okay we will just stick in you platform heels.” was the answer; as if I could barely walk in regular ones.

I was always “large framed”, which was also problematic. I could have made it as a Melissa McCarthy or Rebel Wilson maybe by today’s standards, but back then it was just not the look at all. I had lost so much weight I could slide my hands up behind my rib cage and their was discussion on removing a few of my ribs, unbeknown to my parents. These people wanted the new look of heroin chic which was a death warmed over look of pure skeletal emaciation.

I will never forget the day we all were in the line up for John Casablanca, himself, and the crew. We all wore black dresses and struck a pose. We were walked by and ogled like pieces of meat, lots of “yes, no, chop it off”; in reference to our hair not body parts thank God. They would grab you by your jaw and twist your head decide your hair cut and off you went to get your new look for the season. Only to hear a week later after your photo shoot and proofs came back, “You are still too Fat.” “We are looking for Heroine Chic it is all the rage Darling.”

I was a 15 year old and I walked away from that life, that dream, with realization that I was never going to be what they wanted. I also realized in the world I was never going to be what anyone, at any given time ever wanted; this knowledge made me so very comfortable in my own skin.

I no longer gave two fucks about other peoples opinions at age 15, which is very powerful, it makes you very strong. I have never lost that fire or ability and I remember it, that feeling even when others try to bully or suppress me, which does not happen much.

Honestly I am glad I walked away, I just saw a special on television about the ugly truth behind John Casablanca Modeling and I few pictures I actually remembered. They interviewed a lady similar in age that had a bad experience after following through and going to New York, then on to Paris, which was my exact career track. Sad after multi rapes, and drug abuse she was just wrecked; and never got anywhere but rehab.

Maybe it was good that I was too fat; maybe it spared me the numerous looming blowjobs I had already heard about via the grapevine and favors that would have been expected of me, not to mention I still have all of my ribs, did I mention they wanted to remove two? Yeah, good times! I will say I did get a killer portfolio out of the deal and some head shots that my high school boyfriend at the time, husband now, really loved looking at a bunch. At least I ended up on someone’s bedroom wall, right? Pretty sure he jerked it to them, and so did some of his friends after they stole a few of the photos; but his friends were always just gross! They still are…..

Chao,

Veronica J.