I don’t know how many male models I’ve dated, but yesterday I added another to the list. My partner has been chosen to do some sportswear ads running this week. *Sigh*
Working in the industry during my late teens and early 20s, I’m familiar with the lingo and politics of fashion. But I gave it up because I hated all the primping, prodding and obsessing. i.e. My agency wouldn’t send me on go-sees for a week after gaining a pound from cake and alcohol on my 21st birthday. I simply didn’t care or have the commitment at that level.
The first male model I dated was Ronnie. I like men who are genuinely nice guys with some brains, and he fit that bill but there’s something strange about dating someone with the potential to look prettier than you. At least I knew that up front.
The others I remember were underground. After years of friendship and months of dating, I inadvertently outed Giorgo as a model when I called in the middle of a runway show. He explained it as, “You know, it’s just a party where I’m wearing some clothes and walking around for awhile.” LOL! All the guys got on the phone, and we had a good laugh. He’s cute as pie.
After meeting Panagiotis in a NY trance club and being back in Athens full time, he never once mentioned his side profession. One morning as I was going to work, my bus stopped at a signal and I looked up to see Panagioti’s face plastered on the back of every bus and trolley in Athens. This was followed by a Peggy Zina video, Coke ad and Glou commercial. He poo-poo’d it off, saying it was nothing and I kind of liked that about him.
Now my partner.
He didn’t know his pant or shirt size when they called to collect the info, so he asked me. I also cleaned up his eyebrows, but not in a feminine plucked “Joey” way (if you’ve seen the Friends episode). He called me before the shoot to talk about clothes, during the shoot to talk about makeup, and after the shoot to tell me it went fine.
Arriving home, he proclaimed “the camera loved me!” I offered my congratulations and was happy to see him enjoying a moment in the spotlight. Perhaps I deserve some credit for grooming him? Nope. Showing him how to position himself and smile after he ruined 90 percent of our vacation photos last year with his weird poses and cheesy smile? Nope.
“I was the best one! The camera loved me. I’m going to be on the cover,” he said. Whether or not that’s true, he’s already slacking in his newfound status, leaving dirty clothes all over the house and not washing the dishes last night. He’ll hear about it later.
Being a cover boy just doesn’t cut it around here.