This is a story about my first modeling shoot. I was eighteen years old at the time and a bit naïve. I'd been thinking about modeling for a while before I started. One day I decided to just go for it and give it a try.
I did a search for modeling jobs on the internet and responded to one of the first advertisements I found. The ad said they wanted first timers and girl-next-door types for lingerie and playboy-style modeling, with lots of teasing shots and nothing too explicit, so I thought it might be a good place to start. I sent my picture and mobile phone number off and got a call a few days later to set up the time and place. I was living in Essex, in south-east England, at the time, and the studio was in East London, which is about an hour away on the train. The guy on the phone said he'd love to meet me and audition me for a job, and told me to come in the following day, at about eleven in the morning. I asked what I should wear for the audition, and he said not to worry about it, just to wear street clothes. He asked me my size and told me he'd bring a few things for me to try on.
I was pretty nervous and excited about it that night. I decided not to tell my boyfriend, but I gave my best friend a call. She was a bit surprised that it happened so quickly, but she said she'd come in with me the next day for company.
The next morning I was even more nervous. I got up really early and spent ages in the bathroom getting ready. I shaved my legs and under my arms for the second time in a week, and washed my hair and styled it in the mirror for about an hour. I've got short, straight blonde hair, and I spent ages brushing it. Then I tied it back behind my ears with a loose pony-tail.
I don't normally wear much make-up, and the guy on the phone had told me to keep it natural, but I did put a little bit of glossy lipstick on, and mascara, and I dabbed a bit of pale blue powder around my eyes. I put my best underwear on as well, a black g-string and matching bra, and wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt over the top of them. I packed a few other things in my bag while I was waiting for my parents to go off to work, then I went to meet my friend at the train station and we went in to London together.
The shoot was in Hackney, which meant we had to get off the train in the city and change over for a bus. By the time we finally found the place we were already running a bit late. My friend said she'd come up with me to make sure I was alright, and then she was going to leave for a while and come back and meet me afterwards. We had to buzz the door to get inside, and I could already tell from the intercom that the guy was a bit annoyed about having to wait, so we hurried up the stairs to his flat.
I was out-of-breath when we arrived at his floor, and I had butterflies in my stomach. When we knocked on the door they got worse, and I even felt a little light-headed. Then he opened it and invited us in.
He was in his mid-fifties or so. He had grey hair and spoke with a kind of nasal tone, like his nose was blocked. His name was John. I introduced myself and my friend.
"The more the merrier," he said. "She can stay if she wants and watch the shoot."
She said she'd hang around for a while and see how it went.
After that, John invited us into his office and made me sit down in front of a camera on his desk. He sat down on the other side of the desk and turned the camera on. My friend stood out of the way up against the wall.
Then John started the interview.
"I usually film everything," he said, "just to see how you settle in."
"That's ok," I said.
"How are you feeling?"
"A little nervous."
"Just try and relax. You'll be fine. Before we really get started though I need to check your ID, and get you to sign a release."
I had my driver's license with me, so I showed that to him. He made me hold it up in front of the camera for proof of my age. Then he handed me a contract to sign. I had a quick read over it and signed it on the last page.
"That just gives me control over the images and video we take," he said.
"Ok."
When I'd signed it and given it back, he explained a bit more to me.
"What's your name again?" he asked.
"Becky."
"Great, Becky, well what we're going to do today is take some pictures of you in one or two different outfits, and make a little video. I've got an associate of mine in the studio downstairs, so we'll go down there in a minute. He's ready with the video camera."
"Ok".
"Now you got the train in here today right?"
"Yeah."
"Ok," he said. "I can reimburse you for that. Because it's an audition you won't actually get paid for today, but I can settle your fares."
"Ok, thanks."
"If you do okay today then we might get you some more work, right?"
"Yeah, ok".
"Cool. We'll I'd like to start with a quick interview. Are you happy with your friend here, or would you rather do this alone?"
"No, it's ok. She can stay."
"Ok, well then, for the camera now, tell us your name and how old you are."
"I'm Becky," I said again. "I'm eighteen."
"Alright, great, now I'm going to ask you this one now although I already know the answer: have you ever done anything like this before?"
"Like modeling?"
"Yeah."
"No, never."
"Great. And how many guys have you slept with?"
"What? Three."
"Cool. When was your first time?"
"When I was fifteen."
"With who?"
"One of my brother's friends."
"Great. How old was he?"
"Twenty-one."
"And what's the naughtiest thing you've ever done?"
"Like sexually?"
"Yeah."
"I jerked a guy off for a dare once. When I was in high school. That was my first kind of sexual experience."
"How old were you?"
"I don't know. I'd just started high school, so like thirteen I guess."
"Who dared you?"
"Some of the older girls. My friend and I had to do it, with two separate guys, at a party."
