How Modelling Changed My Life

Do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Question if you should’ve done things differently? As a black woman in the last year of her 20s, I can’t help but reflect on my life and smile, even about the bad things because a lot of it helped me to grow. This is a reflective and vulnerable moment, something I don’t usually share with people, but I don’t want to stay in the shade so the sun doesn’t burn me. It’s time to share the thing that sits heaviest on my mind and made me feel my lowest…my short-lived modelling career.

Around 10 years ago (and now because I’ve still got it!), everyone told me I had the “model look” - tall, very slim, young and a naturally sassy walk. It seemed like it’d be easy to join a modelling agency right? Wrong! I was naive (and admittedly a bit big-headed), but I didn’t expect the stream of nos I received after applying to several agencies over a few consecutive years. One agency told me they already had a model that looked like me on their books, but when I checked their website, there was one black woman on it who looked nothing like me. We weren’t even the same complexion. Do we all look the same? I tried not to take the rejection personally and reapplied almost every year to a range of agencies, but it was mostly nos. When I finally did connect with one, they wanted to control my diet and exercise, which I understand is part of being a disciplined model but that wasn’t a sacrifice I was willing to make. No pizza? Kill me now!

However, I didn’t let the lack of UK black representation in the industry (at the time), and the nos, stop me. I became a freelance model. This worked well for me as I was in control of my career, but I didn’t get to work on any of the big jobs I was hoping for. I did, however, do quite a few different photo and video shoots as well as a couple of fashion shows. I did a lot of TV and Film extras work at the time too. Mostly decent experiences, a couple of quite unpleasant ones, but there was one photoshoot I will never forget.

I arrived on the set and saw five other models, all of whom were Caucasian, as well as almost every other person there. They then said they only needed five models but got six of us in case someone didn’t turn up. My heart dropped instantly because I knew exactly how this day was going to go.

To give you more context, there were five makeup artists, one for each model, and four different photo shoots were going to take place throughout the day. The makeup artists were going to choose the model they worked with for each shoot and they had created mood boards in advance with the styles they wanted. Unsurprisingly, no one chose me for the first shoot so I had to sit on the sidelines for a while, but I was called back to the makeup room for shoot number two. The woman in charge made sure every model was used, which I really appreciated, and the makeup artist was very professional.

However, the French photographer did not like me and she made it known. She criticised and mocked every single thing I did from the moment I stepped onto the set. Every. Single. Thing. I had to keep my chin up and do my best, but it’s hard when you’re being told directions to follow then being criticised for following those directions. I did exactly what the other models did but was treated very differently. Even with my naivety and optimism, it was clear why this was the case.

All eyes were on me and I was desperately hoping for a zombie apocalypse just so I could end that photoshoot.

Some of the other models and staff were supportive and friendly, so it encouraged me to stay and finish the job, but I wish I hadn’t. For the third shoot, the models were allocated to the makeup artists, including myself. I had an Asian makeup artist, who had almost the exact same skin tone as me, so I thought there would be no more problems. But no, I was very wrong. She made it clear she didn’t want to do my makeup and was silent the whole time. We could’ve worn the same foundation and weird blusher! I couldn’t understand what was so wrong with doing someone’s makeup in the same way you would do your own, but her mood board told me everything; she wanted a Caucasian model with a bob and that was not me. I sat in the makeup chair and thought of happy things to cancel out the rejection and bitterness from her. I tried my best to remain professional and performed as well as I could in the photoshoot, which apparently was better because the photographer criticised me less.

I had good feedback for both photoshoots and the pictures came out well, so this told me my experience was not based on performance, it was simply the fact I looked different to the other models. Honestly, when the woman in charge told me I can leave after the third shoot because they will switch me with a different model, I was the most relieved I had ever felt. I gathered my things, said goodbye, speed walked outside, then burst into tears. I had never felt so low. I finally understood what it meant to be openly discriminated against and experience racism in front of my face, and it was a really horrible feeling. One I would not wish on anyone.

I thought about that experience over and over again and kept wondering what I could have done differently. I almost blamed myself for what happened and got stuck in my head. Should I have straightened my hair or worn braids? Should I have left sooner? Should I have said something to defend myself? I spoke to people about it but never truly expressed how bad I felt. I’ve always found it hard being fully open and vulnerable with people, no matter how close we are. Maybe it’s because I hate sympathy, I’m not sure.

A short while after, I applied to a few new modelling jobs, but didn’t get anything. The self doubt was nibbling at me and I kept questioning why no one wanted me. Why do I keep getting rejected from almost every modelling agency and job? What’s so bad about a young black woman, or is it just me? What do other women have that I don’t? It’s the 2010s, surely we’re past racism in modelling? Models like Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks had paved the way for us, or so I thought.

Either way, I had to move on from the negativity that plagued my mind, so I retired. I hung up my stilettos and ended the modelling chapter. I had mixed feelings at the time because I really wanted to do at least one big modelling job to feel like I had accomplished something, but I didn’t think my skin was thick enough. I didn’t want to break whilst trying to chase something that I wasn’t that passionate about. If I’m honest, I started modelling because I thought it would be easy. What a slap in the face! It’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. I have so much respect for models.

Luckily it seems like things have changed for the better for models nowadays. There is a much better representation of black women across the media and we’re not treated like we’re the same anymore. Progress! I feel optimistic it will continue to improve.

On a happier note, I often reflect on a lot of the good things that have happened and I feel proud of who I have become. Since I was young, I was told I’d have to work harder to get further in life than many other people and this helped me to develop a strong work ethic. I’m extremely ambitious and am alway trying something new; I believe only I can truly hold myself back. Modelling wasn’t meant to be so I chose to move on, but taking criticism and rejection made me stronger. It changed me positively for that reason. I try not to dwell on the past or hold on to regrets; I reflect then let it go. I find that’s the best way to live. This essay is like a balloon being released into the sky.

So back to my very first question, do you ever feel like you’re not good enough? Unless it’s a competition and you know you won’t be getting on that top leaderboard (like starting Athletics at 29 years old but thinking you’re Usain Bolt), erase that thought from your mind. You are way beyond enough. You are incredible, just look at what you have done in your life! It took me a while to realise this, but I’ve learnt how to reframe the bad things that happen. I take the positives from the situation/find the silver lining and love myself regardless of the outcome, though my body confidence still has to increase more. People ask “what flab?”, but all I see is jelly in the mirror. Ugh blame the modelling. Anyway, together we have to continue helping each other grow and being the best support blankets we can. I’ve experienced a range of highs and lows throughout my life, modelling being quite a low point, but I’ve had great people around me to lift me back up when I need it.

To end, good things will continue to happen and the bad things will only be a passing nuisance.

TTFN

Shanice x