GLAMOUR OR GRUNGE BECOMING A “MATURE” MODEL Part One -By Linda L. Osmundson
Like most little girls, I dreamed of being Miss America, a movie star or model. I never came close to Miss America or movie stardom. But, I did model in my late 60’s and early 70’s. How, you might wonder, could a sixty-seven-year-old, 5’7”, grey-haired, 150 pound, size 12, potbellied woman get into modeling?
It all started on a cruise. My husband and I befriended two young women from Los Angeles – both models. At dinner one night, I mentioned that because I’m tall, people often ask me if I’ve modeled.
“Do you know what a market there is for grey-haired ‘mature women’?” they asked. Of course I didn’t. “Go to an agency when you get home.”
I chewed on that for several months. I finally called an agency listed in the Fort Collins, Colorado, phone book but located in Denver.
“Anyone can appear for ‘open call,’” the receptionist cheerfully informed me. “Just bring some recent pictures.”
The morning of “open call” I slipped into several outfits and posed much like the “mature” models on the agency’s website. I printed the pictures and added a few from a recent Hawaiian trip. Photos in hand and dressed in what I thought wasto kill – a long skirt with slit, matching sweater and a belt low on my hip - I drove the sixty-five miles to the Denver agency.
Slim, beautiful, blue-jean-clad young women sashayed in and out while I waited for the interview. Young men, too, with wide shoulders, narrow hips and handsome faces. They all looked at me with questions in their eyes. I wondered what I was doing there too.
Two interviews later, the owner explained, “The ‘mature’ market in Denver isn’t as good as on either coast. You’d work maybe three or four times a year.” Then she stared at me. I squirmed in my chair. “You know, you have on the wrong color. It wears you out.” What could I say?
“But I’ll represent you. Make an appointment with this photographer, take six or seven different outfits and get back to me when you have the pictures.”
I followed her instructions. Murphy’s Law – if anything can go wrong it will – took effect. I packed the car and drove the hour to the photographer’s studio. He and I waited for another hour but no make-up artist appeared or called. By the time the agency got a replacement, half our photo session time had lapsed. However, several months and about eight hundred dollars later, everything fell into place – marketing cards, a portfolio of pictures and an internet agency listing. I waited for an assignment.
Linda L. Osmundson, author, speaker, art docent and teacher, writes for magazines, blogs and publishes interactive picture books for ages 7-107. The How the West Was Drawn series teaches readers to really look at art through questions similar to those she uses in her hundreds of art museum tours. http://www.lindaosmundson.com
