Mother.
Hi, my name is Bunny. Yes, you've guessed it, that's not my real name, but to protect the innocent and all that... so this whole new episode of my life began after my divorce.
I was getting on in life and to feel younger I spent out on a boob job, nothing extreme, just went up a couple of cup sizes and made everything a bit firmer and point up! I didn't consult my then husband and as it turned out, he didn't approve. He said it was the final straw. I think he just couldn't handle the extra attention I was getting and to be fair, I was getting a lot of extra attention, mostly from young hot guys and I was LOVING it. He claimed I was cheating on him, which I wasn't, all I did was step up my flirting game and well, long story short, we parted company and went our separate ways. Our son had moved out and wasn't really bothered, truth be told.
Not long after the divorce I got made redundant and started to struggle to make ends meet. My son offered to help out, but I really wanted to get out of my predicament on my own.
So there I was, in my late forties, living alone, no job, no real prospects, starting to get anxious and really worry, when I saw a post online. It was just a pop up on a social media platform, so I assumed it was kosher.
'Models Wanted', It said. 'All ages welcome - no experience required'. Well, I was intrigued. I'd never thought of myself as 'model' material, but to be honest, things were getting desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures.
I clicked on the link and was taken to a very professional looking website with very nice pictures of girls of all ages scrolling across my screen every 5 seconds. I read some of the 'about us' section and it stated they were always on the lookout for new talent and weren't discriminating about age or skin colour. They said they could provide modelling opportunities for anyone looking to start in the industry from hand modelling or catalogue work right up to glamour and adult content. Something was building inside of me, I wanted this, I could DO this.
I clicked on a sentence in the homepage which highlighted the words 'models wanted', when I hovered over it with my cursor. I clicked it and was taken to another page where it asked me to fill in some details and upload some photos. Damn, I hadn't thought of that! Of course they were going to need to see pictures of me, d'oh!
I quickly decided to do it there and then or, knowing me, I might lose my nerve. I ran to my room, slipped on a skirt and blouse and tried to look as professional as possible. I applied some pink glossy lipstick, to match my blouse and slipped on some 4 inch stilettos. I was ready, I picked up my phone and took some selfies, arm out, slightly above my head and clicked away.
I wasn't really happy with them, so I took some shots in my full length mirror, but was only marginally happier with those. I needed someone to take the shots for me really, but who could I ask?
Deciding to keep this as private as possible, I set my phone camera on timer and made do. The shots were only slightly better, but I've never been completely happy with my body, despite often getting chatted up or stared at in the gym or on a night out.
I uploaded the pictures to the website and went about my day.
3 days had passed by, I'd almost forgotten about it, when I received an email inviting me for an interview. Apparently they were very impressed with what I had submitted. I was buzzing, I suddenly had visions of me becoming a model and a spokesperson for mature women everywhere, becoming the inspiration for more older women to get out there and do whatever empowers them, whether it was modelling or whatever else they might want to do. My chest swelled with pride and the possibilities.
I composed myself and replied to the message, telling them I was available whenever they needed and hit send. I immediately regretted it, I think I may have come across as too desperate, but it was done now.
I received a reply in less than 15 minutes, with a proposed time and date, only a few days away and explaining where the interview would take place and what I'd need to bring with me, then the last sentence threw me a bit.
"We provide models for a variety of different genres and industries, from hand modelling and catalogue work all the way up to adult entertainment. If we feel you would be suited to a particular type of modelling, where you would get the most out of your talents, we will ask you during the interview to pose for a few shots to build your portfolio and to give us some professional shots to show potential clients. Of course, you are within your rights to refuse this request, however the interview will terminate there to avoid any further time wasting. Please be prepared to demonstrate your abilities but don't worry, no modelling experience is required, we will walk you through all the necessary steps."
So, I'll be asked to pose during the interview? I suppose that makes sense, they need to see I'm comfortable in front of the camera, I can't see any issues there. I replied confirming the date and time and went about my day with an extra spring in my step.
3 days later I found myself stood outside, what looked like a normal office building in a business park about 20 miles away from where I lived. I decided on an outfit that wasn't totally out of place here, 4 inch stilettos, stockings with seam, a tight figure hugging skirt that ended a couple of inches above my knees and a tight white blouse with one too many buttons undone to show off my new cleavage, my bra just visible. Well, I had to wow them, I really needed this and if I was going to be a spokeswoman for mature women all over the country, I had to take charge and blow them away!
I noticed a buzzer next to the door, with a hand written insert next to it, 'Premier Models' Management'. OK, not what I was expecting. I hit the buzzer and waited. After a momentary silence, a gruff, impatient tinny voice came out of the intercom.
'Yes? What do you want?'
'Oh, hi, sorry, yes, I have an appointment?' I said, flustered with a higher intonation at the end of the sentence that made it sound like a question.
'Do you? Wait there,' there was a brief pause, then simply, 'first floor.' Then there was an angry buzzing sound, which I took to mean as, 'Please enter', so I pulled the door and entered the building.
I made my way up the stairs and when I reached the top, I stopped for a beat and took a deep breath. 'Show time'. Just at that moment a door opened in front of me and a stocky guy in his early 40s maybe, stood there and openly and obviously looked me up and down.
'Can I help you?' He asked.
'Yes, I have an interview scheduled for half 2.' Again with the intonation making it sound like a question! I hate it when people do that, mental note, stop it!
'I've been seeing girls all day, what's your name?' He asked as he pulled a clipboard out from behind the door. There was something about the way he said 'girls', but I let it slide. Before I could answer him he said, 'Bunny?'
I smiled, 'Yes, that's right.'