The first celebrity I really met in my fashion modeling career was a big big bad boy of safe white hip hop in the nineties and went on to be a huge actor. I shan’t name names but you tell me another celebrity who went from a white hip-hop career with a side-gig as an underwear model who now steals scenes in Scorcese movies. Anyway, this gentleman (not a gentleman) was no stranger to the backroom at a modeling shoot. Not only his own shoots, but he would often be found just wandering around backstage of runway shows and high profile photo shoots admiring and schmoozing the models. The first time we “met” I was standing on a stool in sexy black undergarmants while a team of gloved gay men oiled me up with bronzer when hip hop underwear actor demanded to take over. I was stuck up there being fondled by a predatory underwear model and when I mentioned that I was unconfortable, he coughed back that I should feel “fucking lucky that [he] even noticed [my] invisible ass” dropped the bronzer and walked away.
The second time we met, I was in a booth at a diner drinking hot tea with lemon, picking at a plate of bacon (this was during the low-carb days) and reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower when he walked in. I looked up and caught his eye. Eventually, four hours later, we were still sitting in my booth chatting about the industry when I mentioned the day with the bronzer and this man had literally no recollection of it even happening, let alone it happening to me. This did however make him realize that I was becoming a legitimate fashion model, so he invited me to an event with him. He arranged everything, right down to what I’d be wearing (a slinky black dress with cutouts and high black heels which was delivered to my house by a team he had hired to get me ready). I left the house looking like a very beautiful call girl, which is pretty much what I felt like all evening as he draped himself over me feeling more handsome by being draped over something beautiful.
At one point, a reporter asked me how long we’d been dating and before I could even say a word, he interrupted “who said anything about dating?” and gave a cackle that gave me worse chills than the bronzer incident. I pushed his arm off my body, turned around, and left. That was the last time we saw or spoke to one another.
The second celebrity I had any significant meeting with was a 90’s goth queen. I went through a big goth phase in the 90’s, like lots of models, because black is slimming, goth trends scream personality without you really needing to have any, and the accessories are fun. There was a small Hollywood contingenty of goth females and I really wanted to be a part of that. The only movie I ever auditioned for (and lost) was The Craft and losing out on that made me want nothing further to do with the film industry. But this actress was everything: she had a perfect gothic Stevie Knicks wardrobe, her apartment was full of candles and crystals and sage stubs but also practicalities like a blender and a toaster, she wores rings on most of her fingers and she talked wildly with her hands which gleamed and glinted with the stones in her rings, the bracelets on her arms jangled and she didn’t even seem to notice. Her hair was always dyed black but she always always had blonde roots showing. She had a nose piercing but there was lots of speculating that it was as fake as Joan Osbornes.
I met her on my way out of The Craft audition (she got the job) and since I had dressed the part, she must have thought we could be friends. Throughout our friendship, I continued dressing the part, shopping at Urban Outfitters and Hot Topic though, whereas she shopped at Wiccan shops and vintage dress stores. I was a fake version of what she succeeded in being. She invited me over for a literal séance one time and there was a moment when she was creating salt ring to protect those of us inside it from those spirits outside of it when I realized that while I was in love with the aesthetic, the practice made no sense to me. So I excused myself and let my phone calls go to my answering machine for a few months. Sure, I did the 90’s version of ghosting this woman but she went on to be a very successful actress who eventually opened a very successful Wiccan supply store. And I realized that while I very much a modern bisexual (PLOT TWIST) I’m very much not a modern witch.
Oh well, live and learn and grow!