By Lizzy Barter 

Lets be frank, no-one realllllly likes models, (unless your a dude especially a horny rich one). I am a model and on one level I don’t even like models especially those real freak ones that appear to be really really flawless, those ones that no matter which angle they look like a doll, after 2hrs sleep and hung over they appear from bed fresh and glowing (wtf! I HATE these ones it makes my hangover even worse), or after being dumped by a huge wave when most of us have snot all over our faces and your cosi (Australian term for swimsuit) half way up our arse yet they manage to look like something from a Bond film all sandy and sexy. FUCK THEM! They just make you feel insecure and sub-human and STUMPY!


Fortunately for you I am one of the somewhat more “approachable” and “relatable” models also known as a commercial model (meaning as a consumer you buy stuff that I model because its not such a large jump for your mind to see yourself in what I am selling because my looks are more attainable….yeah whatever I am one of a kind bitches my gummy left eye ain’t like no others). Also if you see me on the street please don’t try and talk to me though, I am as “approachable” as an awkward teenager and if I don’t know you, you will definitely put me on edge and I will say inappropriate things to appear witty that you will most likely not understand a word, as the more nervous I get the thicker my accent and faster I will spew out words until you have to politely figure out a way to back out of the conversation.


Anyway I am meant to be discussing the genetically blessed selling our souls…..yes yes thats right people if you wanna be really really good looking all you have to do is make a pact with the Devil or sleep with the right people either way its an exchange and it ain’t pretty.

Now look I have had to go against my morals and better judgement on more than one occasion, like the time I had to model compression underwear, and not just the usual tummy control panties but like the whole body suit vacuum packed armpit to ankle length ensemble sans the breast area (cause you don’t want to flatten the girls now).


It hurt my inner core for several reasons first being it was psychically crushing my insides, shallow breathing became the only option. I felt bad for the women that actually felt they needed to vacuum pack themselves so that they appeared smooth and roll-less in their clothing, I felt bad for their sexual partners that would be unwrapping them, call me crazy but I’d take the lumps n bumps in some sophisticated lingerie over a human sausage roll with boobs any day. However it was my ego that was really causing the inner torment, in my mind I was like what happened to all the agents pep-talk “you’re the next Miranda Lizzy” “Victoria Secret’s next Angel” as I stood there in my shrink-wrapped attire I tried to assure myself that everyone has to start somewhere, I imagined adding wings and diamantes to my flesh colored onesie and sashaying down the runway as Beiber belt out “Beauty & a Beat” I’d be all over the papers as the model that was so hot she could rock an open breasted full length compression suit like no other RIIIIGHT!

Then came the realization that I’d missed the boat to potential supermodel status and began looking back over the “opportunities” I turned down because I took the moral high ground and what made my insides crawl was the fact that I felt a slight tinge of regret that I didn’t sell my vagina I mean soul. It’s no secret that if you start sleeping with a celebrity the big guns pay attention, its marketing at its best. Free publicity what company in their right mind wouldn’t jump on that band wagon. Not to say the girls at the top aren’t extremely beautiful and deserve to be there but I have seen countless girls at the bottom that never made it that are just as if not more striking than those who mastered the game, well managed or fortunately got the lucky break (because that exists too its not all sinister). However It became apparent to me that this modeling gig was not what it seemed, there was an under side that goes on behind the scenes usually in the NY nightlife.

Coming from my PG experience in Australia it was a rather rude awakening arriving in NY and realizing some were not so happy I moved with my boyfriend, at the time I didn’t get it but soon realized upon one of my first nighttime adventures that I was being indecently proposed to by people in powerful positions that promised you the world for a “business exchange” involving their nether regions! The first time I kind of laughed it off but then it became more frequent to the point a photographer aggressively followed me into a bathroom luckily his advances had not gone unnoticed by my burly friend that caught him and put him in his place. I decided to step out of the nightlife scene realizing that these so called new friends that were giving me free dinners and celebrity like treatment were actually promotors that were being paid to bring in beautiful young models to the latest clubs. What happens when you drop fresh meat in a shark tank??…….now look don’t get me wrong I had a lot of fun times but I wasn’t cut out for that world longterm even now as older and wiser i’ll jump in and party for a few weeks and then disappear again into the domestic safety because truth be told I don’t trust them or myself, at least by this age I know who are my buddies #safezone.

The modeling career can be a very short lived one so the desperation and temptation is always there, but the question is will they come through with the goods? will you actually make the cover or book the campaign or will you just feel used and stupid? The risk was not worth it to me, I am however fortunate I come from a good family, by no means rich but its not like I have a family to support, I now have a loving husband, I have a stable career with loyal clients, my looks are commercial and therefore in demand for longer, I have a decent education and I’m funny I mean I have like sooooo many other talents up my sleeve 😉 but for some girls modeling is there MAIN ticket and hey when you think about it we sell our bodies and faces anyway may as well throw sex in the mix too right? It’s sad but true and I don’t blame them it’s just a seedy side of the industry and the world in general. It is upsetting though when I see these young innocent girls come into this industry with NO IDEA! At least with knowledge these young girls can be aware of what is going on rather than getting sucked right in without even realizing it. I’ve known girls that have been taken advantage of, raped without justice simply because they felt they had no voice and had their power taken from them. I do need to point out that this isn’t the norm, it’s not like every successful model you see on the billboards has slept her way to the top, not at all. These girls are often very smart and business minded and are not ones to be pushed around however this article is about the seedy side and soul selling so I’ll save the industry’s all round saints for another article.


Money is a weapon and so is good genetics, it’s just a matter of being in control of that weapon and choosing which way you want to use it. In the end I am extremely thankful I didn’t sell that part of my body but it’s not just sex that can make you turn from your better judgement, it comes in many forms from wearing fur to damaging diets, plastic surgery, retouched images, endorsing products that go against every fibre of yourself for a paycheck, to just trying to constantly be “cool and current”.

I have personally done and seen girls destroy their bodies and their ability to even have children because of long term damage from eating disorders so that they maintain their measurements, models that are 100% vegan yet wear fur, girls that promote healthy living and exercise but live off protein shakes, abandoning true friendship for a an alliance with someone who is “cool” and better for your career, claiming natural living yet filled with fillers and silicon, we sell lies and get paid big bucks! That is one thing that gives me the guilts big time is that my paycheck is undeserving compared to that of a teacher, or a nurse, and most other selfless careers simply because my parents DNA happened to match nicely and create an aesthetically pleasing human being. I did nothing I am not even that great at maintaining it, yet I get so many perks that others more deserving do not, I at least hope I will always feel this way maybe that is my measure of when I have well and truly sold my soul is when I start to believe I DO deserve it……


Image Courtesy of ID Magazine.