Talent Search My Ass!

My oldest child is a real beauty. I know, I'm biased but she really is! She has naturally curly hair, hazel/green eyes and alabaster skin. A relative of mine always says she looks like a china doll.

She has always wanted to be a model but the only problem is that she's teeeeeeennnnnnnyyyyyyy. Like, 5 feet tall and 90 pounds soaking wet teeny and as you know, supermodels are way tall. Like, 9 feet tall and 70 pounds teeny.

We've been to our share of talent searches over the years and I've learned that most of them are scams. They're a way of getting hopeful young men and ladies tricked into shelling out hundreds of dollars for "professional portfolios" in the hopes of landing a big modeling/talent contract. These "talent scouts" neglect to tell the hopeful starlets that they're too short or too hefty or not pretty enough. They simply sign them up, collect the money, take a few crappy pictures then ignore them.

Recently my girl filled out a "talent search competition" form in a nearby mall and was thrilled when she got a call informing her that she had been "chosen" to compete. I knew in my heart of hearts that it was the same old model/talent/dream killer shtick that we had been through so many times before but my girl begged me to attend and I wanted to support her so I went along with her. The "competition" consisted of a small catwalk erected in the middle of a mall with large TV screens on either side of the stage so the company could blare their shiny, "success stories" to suck in even more gullible people.



Contestant # 1 on the left and my girl on the right.

 Flimsy portable chairs were aligned to look like the "competition" had an audience. It was all spotlights, loud music and hype for broken dreams and it was with dread that I sat down and watched my daughter compete. She should have been clued in when there was only one other contestant. Or that the beauty team was more than happy to cheer her on as she stood next to the other contestant, while gazing at her waistline at eye level.

She got to speak a line to show off her mad speech skills, then she got to rock the catwalk and the whole thing lasted about a minute. That was it. Immediately afterwards, the beauty team hustled both girls to their counter so that they could collect some money and arrange for some flimsy photos to be taken. Because, this company would make all of their dreams come true! The brochure basically said so!

What eager young person is going to read the fine print and notice that for $150 they'll only get ONE photo and a cheap t-shirt? What eager young person is going to think it strange that a fly by night company swoops through second rate malls, selects each and every contestant, and demands payments immediately? Right there, on the spot? No think it over time allowed. Payment due immediately!

Being the skeptical mom that I am, I started asking the beauty team questions. I asked them where else they would be selecting talent from - what venues. I asked them who would be styling and applying makeup for the photo shoot (that's the responsibility of the hopeful starlet I found out). I asked enough questions for them to start dancing around the subject and repeating the lines that were the same as the flashy video being played.

Disgusted, I walked away, leaving my kidlet sadly shuffling along behind me. I knew she was going to be disappointed when I refused to give those snake oil salespeople one red cent. I knew she was going to be disappointed when it was left up to me to explain that the chances of her making it as a supermodel were one in a million due to her size, and I hated those people for giving her false hope.

I have decided to show you the actual "registration" form that was given to my girl in the hopes that if you ever see this company at a second rate mall in your town, you'll know to turn tail and RUN away. Reputable agencies provide photos to their models without asking for payment up front for a photo shoot that has already been scheduled. And I don't think most reputable agencies have contests in second rate malls where everyone wins to find their talent. I'm not a vindictive person, but I would love to see these types of companies shut down once and for all. They're shams and they milk the money out of hopeful, hard working people who probably can't afford it in the first place. The only thing authentic about them is that they are certifiable dream crushers. Damn them all.

Slickery's quest for freshness

I can't claim this story as one of my own but it comes from a friend and it's so horrifying that it's worth repeating. I'm going to call my friend - "Slickery."

One day, Slickery decided that she needed a little "freshening" assistance in her nether regions. She's a high fallutin' executive and she has to deal with some powerful people so she didn't want to spend her day wondering how fresh she was down there. She had to be in tip-top shape so she found a product that you could - how can I say it delicately...put "in" down there and it was supposed to make her as fresh and flowery as a summers day.

She figured that if one "item" could make her fresh, two could make her the freshest chick on the planet so she implemented two of the items. Everything was going swimmingly until midway through the day. She was at her desk when she noticed that her "fresh pods" were really beginning to melt and she knew she had to get to the ladies room right away to avoid disaster. As she stood up, she felt the dreaded release of moist freshness and discovered that she was so dang fresh, her freshness and soaked all the way through her light pink skirt!

As she was hurrying through the office to get to the restroom her (very prudish) boss came up behind her and informed her that she had some kind of strange stain on her skirt. She tried to brush him off and continue racing along but the man persisted in discussing the "mystery" stain.

Once Slickery made it back to her office after cleaning up as best as she could, she was horrified to find her (very prudish) boss in her office, examining her chair! For reasons unknown, this man had an intense dislike for the cleaning crew of the building and he was convinced that they had spilled some kind of furniture polish on her chair. He was on the telephone reaming out some poor soul - ranting and raving about how they DID TOO spill something on the seat of her chair because he was standing RIGHT THERE looking at it. He then proceeded to swipe his fingers across the stain and he took a big old whiff of it. He informed whoever was on the other end of the line that the "furniture polish" smelled sort of fresh as he rubbed his fingers together directly under his nostrils.

Now, Slickery just about had a heart attack right then and there. There was no way in hell she could tell her boss (who was very prudish) what the stain was because as she told me - 'he'd end up having to cut off his hand if he ever found out.' And besides, who wants to admit (to a man no less), that you're using some kinda alien pod in you hoo-ha so you'll smell fresh as a daisy?!? Those kinds of products are top secret lady things that are to be kept under the strictest private-ness!

The very prudish boss insisted that the cleaning crew pay the dry cleaning bill for Slickery's stained skirt, and he mentioned it multiple times, further digging the hole that Slickery wanted to climb into and subsequently bury herself. Each time the stain was mentioned, all Slickery could picture was Mr. Very Prudish swiping his fingers across the puddle of freshness and taking a huge whiff. Oh, the horror!

Luckily, Mr. Very Prudish eventually moved to a different place and Slickery was left in peace. It's nice to know that he was so ardent in his quest to protect her office equipment and clothes but it was simply so misunderstood, it turned horror into humor. And that my friends, is the horror story of Slickery's quest for freshness.