Miss Gloria Hits the Catwalk (Part Four)

Waiting for the Vogue Magazines to Arrive

“I am so excited, Gloria. Your Vogue cover story is being released today. I bought three copies for you to autograph.”

“You can kiss my left elbow, Debbie, I’m not autographing anything.”

“Not even for me?”

“Oh, stop those kissy-kissy sounds. No autographs, not even for you.”

Debbie puckered up, making the loudest smooch sound she could. “Fine, I’ll just sign them myself. Nobody will know the difference.”

Gloria glared, then cracked a half-smile. Debbie knew she’d get those autographs eventually.

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The Magazine Arrives

“What do you want for breakfast, Gloria?”

“I’ll take some coffee, sweet and black, just the way I like my men. And make my eggs scrambled, like what I’ll do to your brain if you ask for my autograph again,” Gloria said, shaking her fist.

Debbie giggled. “Fine, no more autograph talk… at least until the toast pops up.”

***

“They’re here, Gloria! The FedEx truck is outside. Our magazines are here!”

The FedEx driver rang the doorbell after leaving the packages on the doorstep.

“Gloria, I think there’s some sort of mistake. Mine came in an envelope, but there are three heavy boxes out here.”

“Shhh, not so loud, Debbie. Just bring the boxes in. They’re mine.”

Debbie peeked at the shipping label. “Three boxes? What’s next, Gloria, selling these out on the street corner?”

“Vogue gave me the first five free, so I got a discount.”

“A discount? How many did you buy?”

“Okay, just don’t tell anyone. I bought 305 copies.”

Debbie froze. “Three hundred and five? Gloria, even Lady Gaga doesn’t need that many.”

“Remember, I won that $100,000. Basically, I’m not paying anything for the magazines.”

Debbie shook her head, tearing open her envelope. “These are beautiful, Gloria. You look great on the cover.”

“Let me see.” Gloria grabbed a magazine. “Oh yes, nice—for a second-rate magazine.”

“Here, autograph mine. But I swear, if you write, Dear Debbie, thanks for the Preparation H, I’m returning them.”

“Okay, I’ll sign them only because you’ve faithfully taken care of me for the past five years, rubbing hemorrhoid cream on my rumpus and pulling whiskers out of my chin.”

Debbie laughed. “I knew it. One day I’ll be famous for my chin-whisker-pulling skills.”

“Okay, yadda yadda. Now leave me alone. I want to see how much those scam artists butchered my words.”

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The Vogue Cover Article

“Introducing the Real Gloria Cupidon”

By Julieta Intriago

When I arrived for my interview with Gloria Cupidon, the winner of Oliver Olivier’s 2025 Fashion Show, I thought we’d talk about fashion and career goals. Instead she spent several minutes trying to convince me to shoot a nude pictorial of her for this article. She even suggested applying flowers and fig leaves to various parts of her body to make it “artistic.” We finally agreed to do a traditional interview and save the nude pictorial for another time. To that arrangement, Gloria said, “It’ll never happen.”

Mrs. Cupidon, who likes being called “Miss Gloria,” had never modeled before doing Oliver Olivier’s Summer Fashion Show. She happened to meet the designer in line at Walmart, of all places, while waiting to use the restroom.

When I asked Mr. Olivier why he was at Walmart, a place not usually associated with high-fashion designers, he smiled and said he likes visiting the store in Anaheim, California. It reminds him of his teenage years, when he enjoyed browsing the books and music sections.

According to Olivier, Gloria stood out instantly. “She carried herself like she owned the place. I knew right away that she would be a hit in the show.”

Miss Gloria brushed him off and called him a pervert. She wouldn’t take his card, so Olivier slipped it into the pouch on her wheelchair. She admits she wasn’t planning on calling him, but the next morning she saw him joking around with Whoopi Goldberg on The View and realized he was legitimate. “He was funny and witty,” she said. “So I thought, alright, maybe I’ll give this guy a chance.”

Olivier’s fashion show marked the exciting beginning of Miss Gloria’s modeling career. When asked if she plans to pursue modeling further, she said, “I won’t say no if I get another opportunity, especially if it includes a nude spread.”

Cupidon won the fashion contest and received $100,000 along with this Vogue magazine interview. She gained worldwide fame due to her outrageous stunts during the show. She kicked over an artificial tree that was part of the stage set and then gave the audience the middle finger. Her rebellious manner resonated with the live audience, who cheered her on and chanted her name over and over.

When I asked why, she explained it was an act of rebellion against “the machine” and its exploitative ways. She said the contract she signed felt almost threatening.

Born into a lower-middle-class family in Los Angeles, she’s been fighting against the grain her whole life. In the late 1950s, she traveled the country to join civil rights protests and sit-ins.

But when I asked about her proudest achievement, her voice softened. “My son, Rudy. My beautiful baby boy. He is the sunshine of my life.”

She paused, wiping a tear. “He was born with Down syndrome. People didn’t understand him. I once heard a woman call him ‘retarded’ in the grocery store, and that broke my heart.”

Gloria had worked in electronics before Rudy’s birth but left her career to care for him. She later miscarried her second pregnancy and never tried again, calling the loss “too much to bear.”

Rudy endured several heart surgeries and passed away from congenital heart disease at the age of nine, in 1968. With tears in her eyes Gloria stated, "I've never gotten over his death. He was so tiny and frail."

By 1969, Gloria returned to her old electronics company. Within two years, she rose from assembler to engineer, a remarkable achievement for a woman without a college degree in what was, at the time, a male-dominated field. “I wasn’t waiting for anyone’s permission,” she told me. “I knew I was just as smart as the men were.”

When asked about her future, Gloria delivered her answer without blinking: “I see my rotting corpse in a pine box, buried six feet under.”

Then, after a quiet breath, she added, “But until then, I just want to be as sincere and real as I can be. Now get on and write this lousy article.”

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