They Like Me. They Really Really Like Me.

{portrait drawn by my friend Jane}

Friends, it happened again. Just the other day. 
Which reminded me of when it happened a few months ago, and a couple months before that, and the year before that, and...


I was scouted by a modeling agent. Again. 

This time it was a Los Angeles casting producer from, "The Face." I had just changed Bean's diaper, had song and danced through the nap time routine, and then checked my email to see a, "Hey Bonnie! This is so and so from shmeeshmaashmeee and yada yada yada Naomi Campbell! Are you interested?" 

I never responded. 

Possibly, because Naomi Campbell terrifies the living bejeezus out of me, and please, don't you know Tyra Banks is my gurrrrrrl! 


Hopefully this won't sound like a pitiful "woe is me" kind of topic or that I'm acting like the stuck-up hair-primping emoticon girl you sometimes use in your texts. If you reallllllly know me in the real life, you'd know that when I was first scouted at the Sweet Factory at age 14, and started appearing in local advertisements, and was prepping for an imminent move to Asia, I plain ol' didn't want anyone to know. Ever.  

Someone brought a magazine plastered with my glossy face to school once, and I wanted to crawl under my desk until summer.  

That kind of attention was (is) not me. 
If they asked about the Nike casting call, I'd be like, "yeahhhh, hey! look! Audrey's sharing her lunchable! Pepperoni pizza!" 

I also know exactly what kind of model category I belong to. Not the supermodel one. Not the catalogue one. I'm in the weird one. You'd probably find my face in some underground campaign being shot by Juergen Teller. We'll just pretend it's either Marc Jacobs or Celine, (but most likely for some indie faux chinchilla overalls designer in Tokyo)

My "Look" since about 5th grade has been tall, scrawny, and "exotic." Well, exotic since birth...except then I looked like Dora the Explorer and now I look like, Jasmine or Mulan or Pocohontas. It changes on a daily basis. In Africa, everyone thought I was Lucy Lui. I swear, if I had a nickel for every time someone yelled "Charlie's Angels" at me...

Anywayyyyyyyy. I also look about 16 years old. That always helps. Badabingbadaboom.
Here come the model scouts. 

They have approached me at malls, grocery stores, parking lots, restaurants, state fairs, college campuses, sporting events, parks, beaches, on the street, by myself/with friends/with family, nationally, internationally, concerts, that one MUSE concert in particular where an agent from MUSE (modeling agency) approached me mid-slurp at the drinking fountain and all I heard was MUSE! and the business card said MUSE! and obviously after quickly putting two and two together, concluded that this must be my lucky MUSE! day. I was going to meet MUSE! (the band). She was handing me a backstage pass?! or something? gift card to the Matt Bellamy fan club? Free song download? 
"Wait. What?" 
"Have I ever modeled before? COME ON!"

I guess being asked those five words again and again over the past ten years, (TEN!) has jaded my view on the whole thing. Honestly, it is flattering. 
Someone (besides the plumber asking if my mom is home), thinks I'm still young.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}