Body Image Activist, Eating Disorders mamaVISION

Tipster Tina led me to a great article in Forbes about the path to SuperModel Fame. This entire story reminded me of something I have been wanting to do for a while.

First, let’s set the record straight on a few things regarding my oh-so-glamorous past;

Yes, I was recruited to be a model in Paris, France at age 16. Let me tell you what this means – nada. It doesn’t mean squat. To the outside world it’s like “wow, you modeled in Paris! Holy crap, you were big time!”

I wasn’t big time, I wasn’t even small time. I wasn’t even one kernel on the cob (my husband came up with that analogy, we are cracking up as I write this).

It’s best to compare my status in the modeling world to the structure of Corporate America. 

You’ve got your big wig Chairman of the Board, phone ringing incessantly, crackberry glued to his palm, as he watches the company stock….tick, tock, tick, tock.  The A-Hole is filthy rich, and doesn’t give two shits about other human beings. His day is about money, fame, and prestige.

Cut to the dude in the company mail-room. In the basement, sorting through stacks of random envelopes. Mr. Mail sets out for his big day, delivering packages to coworkers backs, as they cower in their tiny cubicles, just too busy to turn around and greet this fellow coworker.

Mailroom dude doesn’t mean squat to Mr. Bigwig - not even on the damn radar, and never will be. He doesn’t exist.

As a model, I was mail-room guy.

This must be understood, so you all stop dreaming about being “America’s Next Top Model.

I was just one little girl, plucked out of my rinky-dink hometown, being used by one dirty old Modeling Agent to sell stuff. Sell sex, sell beauty, sell anything he could get away with. That was me and about 4o other “chosen ones” during the summer of 87′,  all random beauties trying to make a go of it in the big city.

Me, as a kid.

Sure, I posed for some catalogs, and magazines, a couple runway shows here and there – but who cares? The mags land in the garbage within a month and getting to that point was hell on wheels.

Pretty damn glamorous huh? It was a pile of crap I tell you, a total and complete pile of crap. Ahhh…I feel better getting that out, thanks for listening. 

On to the Forbes Top Ten Ways YOU! Can Be A Supermodel!:

1. Stop eating. Grow.
2. Be photogenic
3. Get signed.
4. Be quiet.
5. Don’t party. Don’t be a diva.
6. Befriend powerful people.
7. Date celebrities.
8. Expand your brand.
9. Now you can talk.
10. Don’t gain weight, ever.

mamaV’s add ons:

11. Take your clothes off.

12. Sleep with your modeling agent and/or booker.

13. Be serious arm candy.

14. Wear teeny tiny skirts to castings.

15. Get a boob job.

16. Sell your soul.

Ok that last one was dramatic, but I’m in a mood.

Still want to be a model?

God help ya.

-mamaV

P.S. song for the day

Hila weighed 60 pounds. My 7 1/2 year old daughter weighs 50.

A fashion model stricken with an all too familiar disease of anorexia. But this time, a friend was at her side. Adi Barkan documented Hila’s struggle, and sent shock waves out to the fashion world, by showing the reality of this situation in one still photograph.

Fashion photographer Adi Barkan is shown cradling Hila Elmalich in a still from a video shot when the model fell ill. (Gil Sadan/Tamar Golan Film)

See full news story and video here

There’s not much more to say here. Either the fashion industry is going to step up to the plate and make changes, or they are going to continue on their merry way in this deadly game they are playing.

You know what I thought when I saw this photograph?

How, for the love of god, can one be a part of an industry so full of themselves? How do you sit in an audience and stare up at these young women who are clearly not well, and focus on the clothing? Why do clothes, and prestige, and beauty mean this much in our society?

Bless Mr. Barkan’s heart for leading the effort in Israel to change fashion standards for the past three years. Your friend will not die in vain, she will be with you as you carry on in her name.

-mamaV

This baby face is what caught the NY modeling agents attention. But this baby face was too fat. 

“Try these face exercises” my booker said, as he contorted his face for demonstration, “Big yawn…blow a bubble. Yawn….bubble, good. Again.”

I sucked it in like the word of God.

 My mom was at my side my first two weeks in Paris, those weeks flew by and it was time to let me go.

Just last night my mom and I talked about it. The memory engrained in our heads. Thinking about it chokes me up today as a 37 year old woman, my mother 68.

The wave goodbye from the taxi.

I sat on the curb outside our Paris hotel, as my mom got in her taxi headed home. She crained her neck to the back window to desparately catch the last glimpse of me, both of us waving feverishly.

Alone. 16. Paris, France. No idea of what lied ahead.

My mom in her cab. Alone. Back to the Midwest. No idea of what lied ahead. Resisting the urge to run back and take me home.

Baby face shrunk down to half her size within a year, the cigarette & baby food diet will do that to you.

This glorious effort lead by the notorious Paris modeling agent, Claude Haddad. I looked up the old asshole, but I think he is dead. I never got a chance to give him a piece of my mind as an adult woman, so I will tell you;

You lived a pathetic life Claude. A life focused on maniplating young girls with your power and prestige. How full of yourself you were.

Did you die a happy man? Or did the shame of molesting young girls eat at your soul? I wish you no peace.

Do you remember telling me to be more sexy? As you rubbed your grotesque hands over my childlike frame, all the while watching in the full wall mirror in your stately big man office. 

The thought of this scene over twenty years later makes me sick. But I let you get away with it, because after all, it was you who gave me the opportunity to live every girls dream.

Ahh, your cohorts Douglas and Pascal. You trained them well. The three musketeers on top of the Paris scene, laughing as you brainwashed us into believing we needed to starve our bodies and our minds of independent thoughts.

I remember when you told me to stop making so many friends. Go on castings alone, you commanded, you’ll stand out that way. Keeping us separated was another of your sick control tactics. Boyfriends? Hell no, when I found my first one, I was shipped off to Milan within a matter of days.

Usually people’s faces fade overtime, but not you. You moved like Mick Jagger, surrounded by your harem, always watching with your prowling eyes waiting to give me the familiar nod to come sit by you at the dinner parties. Always had to have the jewels on your arm.

You may be gone, but there are several who gladly took your place. Stalking the States and Skandanavia for fresh meat. Why does the world look the otherway?

I may be gone, but my clones abound. Never a thought to turn you down. To be a model is to be a goddess.

 mamaV

The tragic death of the Ramos sisters is the topic of Chasing Beauty this week. Iliana, the 18 year old sister of Luisel Ramos, 21 followed in the anorexic footsteps of her sister. Models, anorexics, heart attacks take their life just six months apart.

Here more about it on Chasing Beauty Podcast, click here to play.

Download from ITunes here.

A teenage model has been found dead only six months after her model sister, Luisel died at a fashion show of complications arising from anorexia, as reported by Times Online.

Eliana Ramos, 18, was found dead in her bedroom in Montevideo, Uraguay, by her grandmother, with whom she was staying. She is believed to have had a heart attack.

She is the sister of Luisel Ramos, dead from a heart attack. She also starved herself to fit the fashion industry standards.

HOW MANY GIRLS ARE WE GOING TO KILL BEFORE WE WAKE UP.

I am absolutely livid, so please excuse my emotion and passion. I read this story 10 minutes ago and my heart is pounding out of my chest.

1 Modeling agents and bookers are at the center of this problem. They see the girls daily, they pressure the girls daily, they measure the girls daily, so stop acting like you are not aware of this and this is not a major influence in this problem. I know you have one modeling agent on your panel, how is he playing a part?

2 What size are your clothes that you are producing for your fashion shows? It’s this simple: To be a model, I must fit into your clothes. If my body is to large to fit, I will lose weight to make the cut. End of story.

3 Why do the fashion magazines showcase children as the women? Just stop already.

The findings of a post-mortem examination have yet to be released but local reports suggested that Ms Ramos, who was taking part in the Montevideo fashion week, suffered from “alimentary deficiency”.

Her parents, who were on holiday at the time of her death, were said to be devastated by the loss of a second daughter in six months.

Their father said afterwards that his daughter had been on a diet of lettuce and diet-cola in an attempt to lose weight. Her body mass index (BMI) was found to be below the level considered starvation by the World Health Organization.

Despite her sister’s fate Ms Ramos, nicknamed Elle by family and friends, had decided to continue her modeling career. She had signed with one of Argentina’s top agencies and the blonde, blue-eyed teenager was considered to have a promising career in Europe and the US.

She had been signed up recently by Dotto Models, the agency that represented her sister. Pancho Dotto, the owner of the agency, today dismissed claims that an eating disorder was responsible for Elian’s death.

“She was very healthy, she ate well and played sports,” said Mr Dotto. “She was never extremely thin. It is absurd to talk of alimentary deficiency, anorexia, bulimia and all that. It is clear that the deaths of the Ramos sisters are due to a genetic problem and not an eating disorder.”

At the time of her death she weighed only 6st (40kg).

Please take a moment today to say a prayer for the Ramos family. Their grief must be simply unbearable, and my heart is broken, once again for them.

-mamaVISION

Look at this girl, she has it made. Sun kissed skin, thin, beautiful body, she sure has it all. But there’s a story behind those eyes.

This is me at 20. My New York agent sent me to Miami to shoot new photos for my book. I had to stay with this jackass photographer, whose name will remain anonymous (he’s a major photographer for all the fashion magazines, Cosmo, Vogue, you name it, so you would figure he would be half way professional).

My stay at this studio was a nightmare. Not only was I in the midst of starving myself to lose more weight, but I was exercising like a maniac, and weak as hell.

Jackass owned this lofty studio apartment in a highrise, people would come and go all day. At night, I had the luxury to sleep on a mattress on the floor, waiting for Jackass to come home, totally tanked, and attempt to jump in bed with me. This scene usually ended quickly with me telling him to get the hell off of me or I would kick him in the balls. Lucky for me he was usually too drunk to fight me.

Ahh, the life of a model, so glamorous.

As luck would have it, a tropical depression moved in. Days past with no sunlight, which meant no shooting. I spent my days writing home to friends and family, swimming, running, and trying not to dig through the cupboards for something I could actually allow myself to eat (I finally broke down and binged on a whole box of Total cereal).

I passed the time chatting with Jackass’s brother, who was not half bad, except his claim to fame was this album cover. Enough said.

When the storm finally passed, Jackass was hung over from the night before, and we headed out to the beach. He proceeded to scream at me “MOVE! MOVE!” as I posed in this cutesy little guatamalan vest and sun hat (great fake smile, if I do say so myself). Passerbys gawked at us, but Jackass paid no mind, all he cared about was getting back inside to take a nap

I wish I could say that my Miami experience with Jackass was an isolated experience, but it was not. Maybe next time I’ll tell you about the Paris photographer who masturbated while he sat behind his camera salivating….but I am not sure you are ready for that one.

 The anorexic images in the media appear to have driven another young girl to starve herself to death.

At 22, Carla Sobrado Casalle, was studying for a degree in fashion, when she suffered a heart attack. And then another, that finally killed her.

This young Brazilian followed in the anorexic footsteps of Ana Carolina Reston, another Brazilian girl, who happened to be a model. Ana died just two days before Carla. In her case, it was her kidneys that failed her.

How many girls will die from anorexia, and remain nameless and faceless? After all you need to be a beauty, or a star, or be in someway associated with this elite group to even be given the time of day in the news.

This is why Lauren Greenfield’s documentary THIN is so important. She profiles regular girls struggling through treatment. The group profiled is representative of hundreds more across this country, and around the world who are dying to be thin. They are literally dying to be thin ladies. But then again, aren’t you?

Analyze your own self esteem.

Don’t underestimate the influence you have on the girls in your life.

Stop chasing the thin vision of yourself and start enjoying the skin you are in.

I know, I know. easy to say, hard to do. But it can be done.

Either we start now, or we keep burying our girls.

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“The fear of being fat is so overwhelming that young girls have indicated in surveys that they are more afraid of becoming fat than they are of cancer, nuclear war or losing their parents.” Lisa Berzins, Dying to be thin.

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Eating disorders hotline

1-800-931-2237

Imagine you make it to the top. You are chosen to walk the runways of Europe, modeling fashions from the top designers , your images will be seen and admired from people around the world.

All eyes are on you, this is a moment of a lifetime, a dream come true.

This is how you look. This is how you feel. This is how your family sees you.

You go back to your model’s apartment, shared with the others, and sit alone, starving, hoping you can make it through the night with out “cheating” on your diet.

A diet that consists of baby food, cigarettes, and mandarin oranges by the pound. You have willpower, you don’t binge like the others. You watch them devour an entire cake at the kitchen table, laughing as they stuff their faces, rich chocolate frosting covering their lips. Their high ends as quickly, as they walk down the hall together towards the bathroom to vomit.

“Step on the scale. Let me see your body,” are the words of my Paris Agent as he ushers me into his office. “Just a few more pounds. This is a big job, try not to eat over the weekend.”

I won’t forget these sickening words uttered to me at 16 years old, working as a model in Paris. My agent running his old hands over my skinny frame, as we both face the huge mirror covering an entire wall of his office.

“Build up your shoulders, this is important,” he tells me as he puffs out his chest to demonstrate. He looks out the door and calls my booker in to take a look.

“Implants would complete your body,” my booker says. Ahh, yeah at 16, 5’9, 125 pounds I have exercised my body to the bone, what I had of any boobs are gone.

“Not an option,” I say. That ended that conversation. As I look back I despise these people, but at the time they had control. If I could go back in time, I would kick both of those two perverts in the balls.

As my agent and booker complete their weekly review of my body, they move on to my face. Can’t get out the door without more instructions on how to improve my look.

“Keep up those face exercises, we need to get rid of that baby fat,” my agent says as he kisses me forcefully on the cheek. Face exercises. Does it get more ridiculous that that? The sad part is we all did them.

Anything to be viewed as better than the next girl in line.

Need help? Reach out to me.

Other organizations and blogs that can help:

Inside Beauty

Eating Disorder Survival Guide for Parents

Mind on The Media

Back in Skinny Jeans Blog

Let’s talk about the reality of day to day modeling life, what better way to do so than to take a closer look at America’s Top Model Reality TV show. This program is so far from reality it is getting ridiculous.

Misconception #1: You will be eating bonbons.
The girls in this video clip from the show are chomping away on crackers, surrounded by jars of inticing candy, while consumed in gossip about their competitors. In the real modeling world, you’ll be lucky if you are allowed to even smell candy.

Misconception #2: You will be living in a georgous mansion
The typical model starting out in the big time (NY, Paris, Milan) are housed in a models apartment, generally with 3-4 other girls. If you really get lucky, you get to stay with your agent, who generally turns out to be a pervert that watches your every move, not to mention every bite of food you put in your mouth.

Misconception #3: The biggest challenge you will face is catfighting over a bed to sleep in.
I had to crack up when I read this episode review on the show, that highlighted the moment that “the models move into their stunning new house and drama immediately unfolds as 13 girls vie for 11 beds. ”

The reality here is that you will have a bed, but you probably won’t be able to sleep due to hunger pains and the thoughts of all the criticisms you received during the day.

Misconception #4: Personality required.
Modeling is what you look like. Plain and simple. If you have the look, and your slight imperfections can be airbrushed, you get the booking. If you attempt to open your mouth, you likely will be cut off so the casting director can concentrate on your body.

Tyra hypes her own need to “work it” as the girls prance in front of the judges. In the real modeling world, there is no prancing. You walk in, you hand them your book. You answer questions, which are rarely asked, and then you hope you get a call back. End of story.

Misconception #5: Makeup party!
In the CoverGirl Queen Collection challenge the girls raced against the clock to put together their entire look, from make-up to wardrobe, during brief elevator stops on a trip to the top of the skyscraper. Queen Latifah and makeup artist Roxanna Floyd met them at the top where they judged them on their overall presentation, naming Eugena the winner.

Let’s back up. First, no one cares how you create your own look, you are simply a manequin. In the real world, you are told to show up for castings or bookings with absolutely no makeup, not a stitch. The directors want to see your skin, analyize it for imperfections, so they can reject you if you dare to have a pimple.

Trivia!: What is the nick-name for a modeling casting call?

Cattle call. You get the picture. That’s enough fun for today. Tyra keep your reality coming, you’ve created a great sit-com.

Modeling Reality

Mind on the Media

Back in Skinny Jeans

I missed Episode 2 of America’s Top Model so I ventured online to follow up. Here is a perfect reality shot of what it is to be a model.

Ohh how glamourous! I went in to check out the requirements for the show, which adds even more excitement to this career for our girls;

1 Must be 18 or older.

Reality check: For American TV purposes only. Most girls you 30 somethings admire in Vogue and Cosmo are 15, 16, 17 years old. They are babies…airbrushed to perfection, and this is what we women strive to be.

2 Must be willing to pose naked.

Reality check: Perhaps for this show, but not required to be a model. Its this simple, strip down = ratings = $. How interesting that every girl took the bait.

3 Height requirement 5’7

Reality check: Runway models are 5’9 minimum. Sure a Kate Moss slips through every now and then, but realistically the shorter you are, the skinner you are required to be to make up for it.

4 Weight requirement ??

Reality check: None mentioned in the “rules” although they do say in they are seeking plus size models. Interesting how no plus sizers made the cut? Probably an oversight by Tyra. The girls choosen don’t weight an ounce over 110.

Moms, if your daughters are watching this show, watch it with them. Sad to say this is the reality of life, you are judged on what you look like. But don’t let your daughter believe that their looks are their “talent.” Although, Tyra’s mission statement points out she is looking to help girls self esteem, in my estimation she is doing nothing but breaking it down. Be there for your daughter to be the voice of reality.

Check out Mind on the Media.