Modeling agents were responsible for advising their models on how to present themselves to prospective clients—what to wear to castings, what to say to clients. In exchange for offering their models access to castings and clients, agents expected full disclosure and compliance from them. Models and their agents engaged in an intimate working relationship, where even private matters of the body were subject to public scrutiny. Individual body projects, such as simply changing a hair style and color or something more extreme such as getting a tattoo or body piercing, were negotiated and evaluated together with the agent based on issues of fashion trends and employment potential. Agents determined the final look of their models. Agents, not the models themselves, had the final say.
I quickly learned that, as a model, I lost agency over my own body during my first meeting with Bobby. After he offered to send me out to castings, Bobby quickly advised me to “keep clean” Sunday night through the workweek till Friday. He warned, “I don’t care what you do on your weekends but be sober and not bloated for Monday morning. You will not know too much in advance when you will have a casting, so be prepared.” This was the standard advice he offered to all his models, which served to set control parameters on his models’ behaviors. Even on my personal time, I was subject to Bobby’s gaze.
Bobby then continued with his spiel on work ethic and ground rules for his agent-model relationship. For example, I was directed to never alter my body or hair without first consulting him. I was to seek his consultation if I wanted to try a new hairstyle. In fact, Bobby specifically warned me to never color my hair. For added emphasis, he recounted the story of one model who he referred to as a plus-size version of Nicole Kidman with luscious red hair, who vacationed in Europe and, on a whim, bleached her hair blonde. “It was poorly done,” Bobby lamented, as he recalled having to call and explain to casting directors why the promised redheaded bombshell was now a bleached blonde. As a consequence, the model lost work due to the lack of her signature hair color, and Bobby lost his share of the commission. In addition, his working relationship with these casting directors soured. According to Bobby, the model made the mistake of making both him and the agency look unprofessional. This model failed to abide by Bobby’s rules. She decided, without his consent, to change her look.
From Alex and her use of padding to Janice and her quick weight gain binge, these plus-size models labored over their bodies to appeal to their agents and potential clients. These plus-size models became products that clients fixed up and dressed up to present as desirable packages. Agents sold these manufactured packages to clients, who in turn resold them to consumers. These models were interchangeable bodies with dyeable hair and fixable features.
As “docile” bodies, they engaged in constant battle to control and discipline their bodies. They developed a repertoire of specialized professional techniques to increase their “model physical capital.” Technologies of control, such as a tape measure, legitimized and normalized this constant surveillance of the body. As part of the physical strategies employed by plus-size models to remain marketable to clients, models tracked each measurement and manipulated their bodies by either invasive or noninvasive techniques, ranging from strict dieting and exercise to wearing padding in the appropriate places.
Beauty is a social construction, but these women were not the ones in charge of its construction. Plus-size models must conform to an image created by fashion’s tastemakers—agents and designers. Their bodies need to fit within narrowly defined parameters, often within a fraction of an inch. Ultimately, they mold their bodies to fit an image, instead of being empowered in a way that allows them to mold the image to fit their bodies. These women were not challenging a contemporary definition of beauty. They were changing their bodies into shapes and sizes that were predetermined by others to be acceptable.
5
Agents as Gatekeepers of Fashion
When my proofs from the test shoot arrived, I was eager to choose which shots would be printed for my modeling portfolio and composite card. Originally, Bobby expressed his plan for choosing the images on his own; however, I was eager to see the results of my long day of posing and dressing up and insisted that I join him. I wanted my voice to be heard in the deliberations.
Upon viewing the images through a photographer’s loop, I marveled at the results. As Bobby summarized, I photographed well—I successfully engaged in affective labor during the shoot and it came across in the proofs—though problematically thinner than my actual size ten frame, which appeared more like a size six or eight body on film. I secretly reveled in the news, my merriment only dampened by the fact that I was in the office of the director of a plus-size agency.
Bobby described the last look from the shoot as the plus-size “money shot,” which highlighted “the bum, boobs, and arms.” In my personal opinion, I thought that particular image was unflattering precisely because it emphasized my “bum, boobs, and arms.” I secretly wished a warning could appear with the image, “Objects in this photo are smaller than they appear.” I argued with Bobby over his selection of that particular image, but he reasoned:
I picked this one [he points to one image in the biker series] because it shows off your body and the angle of your cheekbones. Your eyes are beautiful . . . You look like a plus-sized girl here. Look, in this one [pointing to the proof page from look three] you don’t, you really don’t. You really don’t shoot plus-size at all. You look really skinny here—no curves. Here, you don’t have any form. No one can get a really good look unless you do another shot with, like, something that is body. There is no body here. The client needs to see what the body looks like. Get it?
I understood the rationale underlying his analysis of the film and agreed with the need to display the body, but I hesitated to finalize the selections. My image was immortalized in those photographs. Those images represented me. I wanted to protect my image, especially since I felt it was not satisfactorily depicted. I equated thinness with good looks and, from the entertainment industry perspective, good work. After countless years trying to look thinner for my acting career, I would not permit any wide angles or stray rolls of skin to be visible in the photographs. I wondered, too, how much of the “excess” could be retouched.
This clashed with my personal preconceptions of beauty, derived from a cultural perspective where thinness equates with desirability, and professional expectations of plus-size models to display what Bobby referred to as “the bum, boobs, and arms.” Instinctively, I wanted to cover my arms and suck in my stomach. Rather, a plus-size model displays those exact parts, areas of the body that the popular cultural discourse maligns and subjects to modification. New to the industry, I had not fully fathomed the personal implications of putting my body on display nor the demands these fashion tastemakers would require of me.
Stubborn, I continued to debate Bobby on the merits of that singular image. Ultimately, he gave me a choice:
None of these are bad. The photographer did their job. If I thought it was terrible, I would say “Oh, my god, please re-shoot it.” I think that these are really nice for a first shoot. You are lucky that you got so many good shots. Some people have less to choose from than this. Sometimes people come back with terrible pictures and I go, well, I can’t work with you . . . If you don’t like it then certainly by no means print it. It’s up to you whether you want to blow it up [to enlarge the image to a 9x12 print] or not. It’s your money. But, um, if you are going to spend money on your card, I would say you are going to need at least another body shot. There is no body here. If you want to shoot again or test with someone else, fabulous. It’s totally your call. We are not here to not serve you.
If I intended to make a genuine effort at modeling, I needed to curb my bodily anxiety. I needed to work with Bobby, form a partnership between fresh model and knowledgeable agent. By the conclusion of the meeting, we agreed on three images, compromised on the fourth, and organized the layout of the composite card.
Shift
ing from the aesthetic labor of a plus-size model, in this chapter I focus on the gateway to the production of beauty—the modeling agency. I examine the work agents do and their relationship with their models. Agents develop a paternalistic management style with their models, in which these models become subordinate and subject to specialized management tools and practices that coordinate the modeling work processes. A prime example of this is the “booking board,” which serves as the tangible nexus of power in an agency. A booking board is a pictorial roster of signed plus-size models, a physical catalog of the collective body capital of an agency. Agents take great pride in their board and continually work to improve its overall image by manipulating the images, themselves, as well as the models depicted in them. I conclude with an examination of the consequences of a paternalistic management style, when an agent’s involvement in his or her model’s life ventures beyond professional matters. Individual body projects are no longer private but, rather, group efforts. The aesthetic labor models undergo requires them to self-surveil their bodies on a daily basis; their agents, as referees, ensure they are keeping up with the demands of the job. Agents evaluate, critique, and motive their models. Sometimes, this mentorship can cross the line from acceptable and necessary to unwarranted and destructive.
A Model’s Guide
All the novelty of the fashion industry may overwhelm the fledgling fashion model. Factor in dreams spun from designer threads and hopes captured in a Times Square billboard, a woman may easily get lost amid the hoards of other doe-eyed wannabees. The field of fashion has its own rules, rules that are in constant flux with the shift in seasons. One day, you are “in,” and the next you are “out.” Auf Wiedersehen, as supermodel Heidi Klum would say.
As one of these aspirants, I walked into open modeling calls unsure of the appropriateness of my dress, shoes, and degree of makeup application while being surrounded by a clique of boisterous plus-size models who enjoyed flaunting their size and shape in front of one another like proud peacocks. They had confidence in their bodies and their work. They all seemed to know each other. I, on the other hand, felt unknown and alone. I did not know how to present myself as a model. I lacked style. I did not know the standard operating procedures or the jargon.
As an actor, I had a manager, agents, and an acting coach help me navigate the whole process. They guided me through each step, from how to greet the casting directors to how to look and act like a scripted character. For auditions, I wore a specific outfit meant to convey the “girl-next-door” persona. At auditions, I studied the “sides,” i.e., script of a short scene to perform in front of the casting directors. All the actors quietly prepared before being called into the audition room. An apprehensive silence, broken by the occasional faint mutterings of actors rehearsing their lines, filled the halls. Few actors interacted with each other, since we were all busy preparing ourselves and “getting into character.” This was in sharp contrast to the rambunctious party atmosphere of plus-size modeling castings. Without a script to study, models simply had more time to chitchat before casting called them into the casting room to perform. Socializing became their way of stimulating their energy reserves and engaging in affective labor. It also served as a means of gathering information on additional job opportunities.
Similar to my acting management team, models have an equivalent support system. For many plus-size models, their help comes in the form of a modeling agent. Agents across the various performance careers perform similar tasks. As in body performance-centric fields such as boxing, dance, and modeling, social actors (here, the models themselves) “create and mold their bodies in accordance with the fields in which they are involved and the demands of those specific fields.”1 In the field of modeling, these plus-size models are classified and molded by the institutional habitus of the fashion industry, where agents play a central role in preparing women to be models by instilling in them a particular mind-set.2 These women not only engage in aesthetic labor to physically alter their bodies to meet the demands of the profession; they also alter their self—their feelings and dispositions—according to fashion’s tastes. Transforming a “fat woman” into a “plus-size model” takes a team of aesthetic professionals. Both models and agents engage in work practices that are focused on harnessing aesthetic labor and developing marketable bodies.
As described in chapter 4, a model prepares her body for the performance of modeling. Her job is to use her body to strike the right pose and “sell a garment” for the client. In order to effectively do so, a model regulates and disciplines her body. By way of toning and shaping her body through diet and exercise or artificial enhancements, the model prepares her body for the changing needs of clients. As freelance workers, models continue to modify their physical capital amid fluctuating conditions in the fashion market, as their agents guide and approve their actions.
While plus-size models self-monitor and train to increase their model physical capital, their agents network with fashion clients on behalf of the models. They negotiate the market’s demand for models and evaluate their models’ potential. Agents within a modeling agency cooperate to develop their talent, investing time and money. Specifically, modeling agents represent models, working to prepare and develop these women for the fashion industry, i.e., guide them through the initial steps of building a modeling portfolio. As talent scouts, modeling agents serve to find and produce marketable models. They meet with their models in the agency office or email them, provide details on bookings and castings, discuss career options, or check-in on the condition of their bodies. For example, one agent cheerfully described her division as “a family-oriented board. We are constantly advising our models and discuss among ourselves [the agents] what direction to take each of them.”
This hands-on approach takes time and energy. In agencies with upwards of forty-something plus-size models, it would be impossible for an agent to contact each model daily while also dealing with clients, so, like in every family, there are favorites. The level of instruction differs depending on each model’s stage of career development. For new models “fresh off the boat,” agents will take a more hands-on approach to develop the woman into their image of a model. The agency will direct the fledgling model to a photographer for test shots, confer with hair stylists for the appropriate color and cut, and shop with her to find outfits to be worn for castings.
Agents assume a paternalistic management style, guiding new models through the process of starting a career in modeling. The agent will walk a new model through the initial steps of the business by training her how to walk and pose, sending her for test shoots, organizing her portfolio, and putting together her composite card. Often, these agents affectionately refer to their models as “my girls,” highlighting the personal and possessive dimensions of the job as agent.
On the other hand, for established models who are either switching agency representation or have been working at the local level for some time, agents, in practice, tend to limit their contact with them to simple scheduling matters. As an agent confessed, “If a product works, why change it?” This candid revelation, where the agent equates the model with a product, speaks of the commodification of the model’s body and the role the agent plays in preparing it for “production.” In these cases where models continue to book work, agents allow the process to run without much interference.
Evaluating Market Potential Costs Money
The organizational structure of the modeling industry, built on the production and distribution of cultural items, relies on the work of agents acting as “gatekeepers.” This structure delineates the responsibility of discovering and sponsoring new models into the field to agents. Much of this work of scouting for new talent is done on the street. Scouting is a continuous process where agents do not always wait for models to come to them. They look for prospective models (of all sizes and types) while walking down city streets or riding on public transportation. For seasoned agents, it only takes a few seconds to evaluate
a woman’s potential—her affective labor. While speaking with the director of a plus-size division, the agent informed me that she had an appointment with a potential model later that afternoon whom she first noticed while looking out of her office window. “I looked out [of my window] and saw a beautiful woman,” she recalled. “I sent my assistant after her to get her in.” For agents, scouting is an instinctual skill, cultivated over time. Some find it difficult to “turn off the eye” for scouting, even while vacationing. Another agent regretted the time he refrained from approaching a young girl while vacationing in South America. He was convinced she could have been a star with some training.
As sociologist (and former fashion model) Ashley Mears explained in Pricing Beauty: The Making of a Fashion Model, which focused on straight-size models, fashion professionals subject models to uncertain judging criteria:
Their key task [as agents and bookers] is to keep track of the field of fashion producers, to predict and produce the tastes of their clients, and to fit the right kind of bodily capital into the right opening at just the right moment . . . Bookers face an especially tough predicament, given the inherent uncertainty involved in selling something as ephemeral as a look.3
Fashioning Fat: Inside Plus-Size Modeling Page 11
