Do you remember when I posted about applying to be a volunteer Brooks model?
First of all, I’m not deluded enough to think that I could be an actual model. I’m 5’6", currently rockin’ 140 pounds — I’ll never be model-tall or model-thin. But the Brooks opportunity called for people who wear size medium, and I definitely do. Plus, it’s a running company, not Dolce & Gabbana.
I saw this call for volunteers on Facebook, by the way, which made me think it was super-casual and I might have a shot. I sent in my measurements, shoe size, contact info and a photo. Then I didn’t hear anything back and thought, “Meh. Oh, well.”
Monday morning, I got an email from Brooks inviting me to come to a fitting Tuesday night at a swanky hotel very close to my workplace. It said:
“We’ll use this session to determine who will be needed for our Wednesday Show. If selected, we’ll need you to stay until 6pm on Tuesday for a dress rehearsal. Anyone selected will receive a swag bag of Brooks gear.”
Swag bag? Count me in!
Fast-forward to tonight. The designated meeting place was a space outside a group of conference rooms.
Picture this, you guys: MODELS. Actual models. People who dress up and have pictures taken of them for a living. That’s who was at this fitting. Fitness models.
I moseyed in wearing jeans, a tank and a cardigan — straight from work, mind you — while about seven very fit, tall, gorgeous girls and two supernaturally attractive men dressed in fitness gear clutched their portfolios and discussed their latest bookings. FML.
Now picture me feeling extremely embarrassed and, well, short. Considering the company.
I thought about leaving, but only for a second, and then I figured the whole thing would at least make a good story. I totally tried to smile and act like I belonged there. Wheee!
The Brooks woman in charge brought out a bunch of outfits and had us each try on a cold-weather and a warm-weather outfit. She said she would only end up choosing three of us. I went to the (very nice) hotel bathroom with all the girls to change, and tried not to be intimidated by the other girls’ abs. Jeez, ladies, really with the abs?
My cold-weather outfit consisted of capris, a t-shirt and a pullover jacket with thumbholes. Everything fit fine, but I still felt kind of dumpy and defeated. I went back out into the hallway with several girls to show the Brooks woman, and she looked at everyone down the line and asked most girls to turn around to show the rear view — except for me. I figured I was already out of the running, so she didn’t need to see my badonkadonk. Well, fine.
I changed into my warm-weather outfit — shorts and a “Run Happy” t-shirt — and went back out to show her. This time, she asked me to turn around and show her how the waistband of the shorts fit. OK, that’s progress, I thought!
We all changed back into our street clothes and sat around the woman as one late girl tried on her two outfits. I positioned myself closest to the exit so I could leave ASAP after the woman announced who she wanted. All the models were fiddling with their phones, so I hopped onto Tumblr and posted this.
I also creepily snapped a photo of some of the outfits we tried on and the Laptop of Judgment:
Then the Brooks woman said she’d be keeping four girls, and she listed their names.
“[random name]… [random name]… Devon… and [random name].”
Um, what now? WTF??
Then she said to the other girls:
“I’m sorry, you guys, it was just how the clothes fit. Thanks for coming.”
I kept waiting for the woman to realize she’d mixed up the names, but the other model-type girls left, I stayed put and she didn’t say a word. What. The. Hell!
So guess what I’m doing tomorrow? A freakin’ runway show at the Brooks company planning meeting. We actually practiced how we’ll walk down the runway, and the legitimate models helped figure out what kinds of formations we’ll walk in for different parts of the show, where we’ll stop and pose, etc.
After we rehearsed and were all about to leave, I asked the woman why she chose four girls instead of three. (I’m certain if she went with three, I wouldn’t have made it.) She just said we all fit the clothes and had good “Run Happy” attitudes. There are something like 15 “looks” for each person to model, too, so there are plenty of clothes to go around on four bodies. Um, OK!
So there you have it. The “story” I was originally gonna tell you guys was how I went to this fitting and, crap, there were all these actual models and I didn’t get picked, but it was still a funny situation. The ACTUAL story is just crazy. And cool. AND CRAZY.
Again, I’m not deluded enough to think that I’m any better than those girls that didn’t get chosen — they would wipe the floor with my sorry ass at any other fitting — I just think they were probably a little too thin and didn’t fill out the size medium clothes.
I can fill that shiz out all day long.
Dev on Running 