Strike a pose: My modeling debut

You remember the joke from days at the playground right? "Hey," screams the obnoxious kid. He continues, "Hey popular kids! Did you know Jimmy's mom was a model?" [pause, pause...wait for it] "Yeah a plus size model!"

The addition of those two little words "plus-size" changes everything doesn't it? It's like the words carry extra weight, pun definitely intended.

You can imagine my hesitation then when I saw the ad asking for plus size models. Actually it was on Facebook. A friend of mine, Brooke, works for a talent agency and posted that she was looking for women who were at least 5'8" and wore a size 14. She was casting a plus size photo shoot for a big-name national department store.

Now technically, I am 5' 8" and depending on the brand or if it's really cute and on a super good sale I currently wear anything between a size 8 and size 14. I'm not saying I should wear all of those sizes, just that I do.

It sounded like a fun chance at some quick cash so I immediately messaged her: "Could I do this?"

She typed back asking about my experience and I tried to figure out how to answer.

Obviously I can't say that I'm experienced, but then again I'm definitely not inexperienced. I mean these cheek bones have seen fame before. There was that time in 7th grade when I sewed my own knit unit and modeled it in the local 4-H fashion show. It was as awesome as it sounds. Plus, I did a little photo shoot for some friends who own a baby sling manufacturing business. Just google Sling E-Zee and I'm the one "baby wearing" the cute red headed toddler. But if you go stalking, you should know those pics are from like four years ago, before my plus sized growth spurt. Most recently, I got picked to be in a local Wal-Mart commercial.  That's where I met Brooke. She was the make-up girl on set. Please don't be fooled by me using words like "on set" and "make-up girl." I promise the only qualification I needed to get the gig was to be a "real mom," not like a pretend mom, obviously.

Oh and there was one other time when I successfully posed as a mother for my son's Muffins-with-Mom day.  I know that sounds weird. I really am his mom, so it's not exactly posing. Here's the thing, he was my firstborn and at the time around 3 1/2 years old. It was different back then, like I was playing house. Not like now when I have 6 chirping voices saying "Momma. MOmma. MomMA" all day long. There is no denying my current mom-ness.  But when I was only three years in, I hadn't been a mother long enough for it to stick. The whole thing kinda felt surreal. I was 24 when I had my first son. That means for 24 long years I had been a-lot of things: a daughter, sister, student, girlfriend, fiancé, and wife. But I had also been a NOT mom. At least until that day in Sept when 1 hour of pushing changed 24 years of truth.  Surreal. Weird.

And I know it sounds silly, but the Muffins-with-Mom party was a big defining moment for me. I remember it well. I was nervous. When we walked in there were pictures hanging on the wall, with identifying markers covered, that each of the kids had drawn of their mothers. We were supposed to guess which portrait was us. So cute. I knew immediately which one was me. My son, Levi, had confessed earlier through giggles that week that had drawn a surprise picture of me and had given me a beard. He thought that was hysterical. I tried to explain that I was a woman and didn't have a beard, but he just asked, '"Well, when you were a little girl did you have a beard?"

What a chump. Not only that, but through the entire party he had the guts to keep calling me momma in front of everyone else and weirdly none of the other parents questioned it.  It seemed like all the other muffin samplers were either going along with my facade, or like him, despite my clean shaven look they really believed I was his mother too. I didn't have to pose anymore. Levi thought I was a mom. They thought I was a mom. I was measuring up. Sometimes all it takes is other people seeing it in you before you can see it for yourself.

Back to my modeling debut.

Like you, I've seen the magazine covers and Hollywood red carpet events. Sheesh, I've even seen the Pinterest boards. I know what beauty looks like.  Beauty is two slender non-touching thighs in a pair of black matte leggings. Beauty is calves that fit easily into tall cognac riding boots. Beauty is Michelle Obama's arms. Beauty is a size 4 or 2 or 0. Beauty is not me. My skeleton alone is not a size 4.  Like there is no way I'm ever gonna fit in a pair of jeans that small if I am required to bring along ALL of my internal organs. And don't get me started on my one giant mermaid uni-thigh.

I don't measure up. Just like I was a NOT mom,  I am NOT beauty.

But then I did a little internet searching about plus sized models. I found out that in the plus size industry beauty is not really defined by your measurements. It's a combination of facial structure, hair, skin tone, teeth, and personality in front of the camera...but it's especially about curves. I looked in the mirror and did a quick assessment of my curves.  For sure, I wasn't sporting the double F's like I did when I was breastfeeding, but my husband is still sufficiently impressed. Upper curves? Check. And I remembered a few years back a friend of mine remarked once that I had a bootie that went on for "days and days." While it didn't quite feel like a compliment at first, that friend later when on to get a butt implant. I'm serious. A butt implant. (She apparently wanted one that went on for days and days too.) Lower curves? Check.

I was starting to think I could do this. I was dreaming of the extra income and the bonus perks. Wouldn't it be nice to shovel in M&M's like it was your job? No, literally like it was for my career. Or stand on the scale and say- "Ugh! 5 pounds. I've lost five pounds." Plus, it all sounded way better than the sprint triathlon I had just signed up for.  So, I verified with my friend Brooke that the photo shoot was clothing-mandatory and not clothing-optional then asked my husband if he would be embarrassed if his wife was a plus sized model. His response, "No, because that's just a normal size person."

I decided to go for it. I took some selfies and was sure to get a good angle that minimized my nose, but accentuated my hips, and sent them in to the talent agency. And it has been liberating, like Muffins-with-Mom party liberating. I walk around confident and proud because I now know there are modeling experts who pay top dollar to showcase curves like mine. I do measure up. I am a mom and I am beauty.  Sometimes all it takes is other people seeing it in you before you can see it for yourself. 

Hmmm, seems like I've heard that before.

Anyways, no word yet from the modeling agency but I'm still hoping for my big break. Again pun definitely intended.

Here's the candid profile pic I had to send in to the talent agency. 

Look how small my nose looks. :)

And P.S. See? I told ya. No beard.