Imposter Syndrome

Models have to go to casting calls the way an actress would: they show up and be friendly and hand over a big business card with their picture on it and get looked at and photographed and then they leave.  Doing it in Paris is a whole different thing though.  Today, Sophie went to one located just off the Champs-Elysees and we felt like serious imposter dorks.

The building is fancy so there's codes to get inside. We have the codes; we try the codes, we screw up the codes, we try the codes again.  We don't freak out quite yet, because we're early. Besides this gives us time to remember to get Sophie to take out her invisalign retainer thingies and change out of her three dollar Old Navy flip flops into the high heels the agency bought for her.  (Even I know those flips flops are SO last year.)  While she does all this I see if I can get on some kind of free wifi nearby and Dior comes up as an option.  Uh, what?  I feel like Dior would know it was me trying and laugh like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz so I don't try.  We are still trying to figure out what to do so Soph attempts to look model cool while I take a picture of her.

We realize the reason the code hasn't worked is because we forgot to enter the A or B after the number part, even though that was a super obvious thing.  I feel like this isn't the best time to make an argument that models are actually smart..... which they are!  Anyway, we do that, and it works.  We are in. It's the fanciest building I've ever seen. I force Sophie to pose by the staircase because it's so fancy and she freaks out because she's worried people will know we're losers who've clearly never been inside a nice building.  I make her do it anyway.  I'm the mom, and that's how it works.

I want to point out that just outside the frame of this picture is a fancy fire extinguisher.  How are even fire extinguishers fancy?  I don't know how to describe it.  Bedazzled, maybe?  Anyway, at this point we see that there's a tiny little elevator that would hold maximum two regular people but maybe, like, eight models, so we take that upstairs-- because usually we would have to walk up six flights and then we arrive sweaty and panting which puts a bit of a damper on the good impression.

In the elevator we frantically remember that it is a casting for a jewelry company and Sophie is wearing earrings I got her at H&M for the princely sum of $1.50, so we take those out, just in case.

We knock on the door and everyone is lovely and kind and they ask Soph to wear earrings and look off into the distance while sitting in a chair. They take pictures of this while I thank god her ears aren't green from those H&M things this time.  "Is this your first season?" they ask, and for a second we both say nothing, since we're thinking "season of what?!"  (It turns out they weren't talking about the different seasons of Gilmore Girls, but Paris Fashion seasons.  We played dumb and I think it worked.)   The whole thing is over in five minutes or less so we get out as fast as we can before we make any mistakes.  She kicks the shoes off, throws her flip flops back on, and walk to Arc de Triomphe to eat macarons.

I tried to get her to eat this macaron and stare off into the distance while I photographed her just like the earring company but she gave me the finger and just bit into that sucker anyway.