My first outfit was tactical pants with black four-inch stilettos and a matching leather corset that stopped just above my navel. My shoulders were bare. The makeup was heavy on darker colors, and I hardly recognized myself in the mirror. It was way cool, though, especially since black was my favorite color.
Elias paired me with a woman who was the same size as me and wore a similar outfit to mine, but in a different color scheme. We changed positions and backdrops frequently, and it took an hour before that part was done.
Calling a break, Elias gave us thirty minutes to rest and change into our next ensemble. I was able to remove the torture devices called women’s shoes, then guzzled down two bottles of water. It had always seemed so easy and glamorous to be a model, at least on TV. Dre
