Illustration by Kate RodgersTaking advantage of a warm February morning in Southern California, I walked down to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf to soak up some sun on the terrace facing out onto Santa Monica Boulevard. Sipping on my iced soy vanilla latte and daydreaming, letting my eyes drift down the boulevard, a woman who had just parked her car, locked eyes with me and began to approach me. She was well-groomed, fashioning acquired red hair, and was quite sleek, in her fitted button down shirt that was tucked into her slim pencil skirt.
As she was walking towards me in her open-toe sling-backs, I started getting both a little nervous and confused. I didn't understand who she was or how she knew me and then it hit me. I knew what this was about. There was no other explanation than the fact that I was in the process of getting discovered - finally. Oh my, this was my big moment! Clearly she a casting agent who was blinded by my radiant beauty and simply could not wait a second longer before casting me in a role opposite Ryan "schwing" Gosling. If it wasn't my beauty that caught her attention, then obviously she recognized me in one of my many challenging roles as an extra. Perhaps it was my memorable role as "High school Girl at Locker #13" in The O.C or my honest portrayal as "Party Girl at Black Jack Table #6" in Las Vegas, who knows but all of those years of early call times, anorexic pay checks and living off 99 cent store canned food were going to pay off at this very moment. They say that sometimes you have to leave Hollywood to break into it.
Truer words have never been spoken...
Big Red arrived at my table and wasted no time before launching in to her greeting, "Hi there!" she said with a radiant smile as the sun reflected off of her copper locks. I returned her cheer with a hello and anxiously leaned forward waiting for her big pitch, "Are you Yasmine?" she asked as she helped herself to the empty chair at my table, confident that I was in fact Yasmine. Shit, I wasn't Yasmine, for Ryan I could be Yasmine but what would I do when the real Yasmine comes in. In my early 20's, I would have somehow made this work in my favor but as I get older, my ambition for bullshitting has slowed down where I accept defeat almost immediately.
"No, I'm not," I confessed with regret with a look of hope as I bit my lip, that perhaps it didn't matter. Her face fell with slight disappointment, apologized for disturbing me and promptly took the vacant table to my left. Why couldn't I just be Yasmine?
Several minutes later, Big Red perked up and waved her hand as the real Yasmine arrived and sat at the table. Yasmine was ten years older than me, was about 50 pounds heavier, looked exhausted and worn out.
That I wasn't expecting...
Eavesdropping on their conversation, I quickly learned that Yasmine had hired Big Red as a weight-loss and image transformation consultant to help her shed her post-pregnancy weight and to get her "groove back". Yes, this was said. Yasmine, at one point told Big Red that she wasn't at all surprised that she had recognized her with the description that she had given to her over the phone, instructing her to look for the "fat, tired and haggard woman". I must have reacted to this because Big Red, who glanced my way, suggested that they take their conversation inside.
Seriously? So I didn't put on make-up and yes, I have a few pounds of framboise macaron, red wine, and cheese winter weight, but mistaking me for a sleep deprived, "haggard" woman who just had a baby?! Come on! My clothes still fit...ish.
And if I didn't already feel like a fat piece of shit, I received an e-mail from the fashion house that I am working at during Paris Fashion Week informing me that the dresses that we are required to wear in the showroom have arrived and wanted to know what size they should set aside for me. Extra-small or small? How generous.
Bon week-end à tous!
