Читать книгу Almost 5'4" - Isobella Jade - Страница 14

I could have asked Danny to drive me to the shoot – he had a car – but we had just started dating and I didn’t want to scare him off with my modeling adventures just yet. We had dinner together that night and I wanted to burst from holding in all the excitement of my first naked modeling experience. A few days later, I did tell Danny of my modeling dream but he was less than enthusiastic. He liked me the way I was when he first met me – a boring waitress, not a sexy model.

But I was planning on modeling all summer and he would just have to accept it. I let Danny drive me back to pick up my photos, but I made him promise not to say anything to my mother or my sister about it. Then I asked him to take a couple of photos of me by the lake; he didn’t know if he wanted to. In the end, I forced him, telling him how to hold the camera, how to click it. I got pissed when he didn’t know how to zoom.

I tried to lead a normal life: dinner with my mother, watching MTV, hanging out with friends at the mall or sitting by their pools talking about boys. But before too long, I wanted to be back in front of my computer admiring my profile and checking for emails. I told no one of my new project. I wasn’t confident enough to tell my friends, in case nothing came from it. At the time, finding a modeling agency hadn’t crossed my mind. I didn’t understand what it meant to be with an agency or how to get with one. Besides, they all had height requirements and I knew I would be too short for them. I was fine with the Internet. It was making me a model.

I wasn’t in a hurry to look at the shots of myself from the wedding hall. It wasn’t the photos that enticed me, it was the feeling of being photographed, the feeling of being in front of a lens. Only when I was alone in my bedroom did I examine them closely.

My nipples were very perky and could be seen even in the bra shots, but I was too embarrassed to show anyone. I took the 4″ × 6″ prints that screamed ‘nipple’ and hid them in a folder, putting the ones where I was wearing the black lace lingerie in my ‘portfolio’, a cheap Wal-Mart photo album. When Joel called to see them I changed the topic right away and told him I wasn’t really serious about modeling, even though I was checking my email over five times a day and scoping my mini-website for an hour at a time. I would admire my page and check out other girls’ images, reading their comments and comparing mine. The words of applause and compliments, from photographers and other models, stayed with me throughout the day.