Confessions Of An Autistic and Sexually Confused Model

By Agata Descroix – @agatacruz
An exerpt from her book – Confessions of An Autistic And Sexually Confused International Model

I never thought I would ever be a full time model one day. I fell into modeling like a fly in the soup.
I had done some nice professional pictures once, like a lot of girls I guess and I also got fooled in China from some Australian people who wanted me to be a part of their model-talent agency. They made me pay for a book and all I did with the pictures was keeping them in the beautiful red portfolio as a souvenir.
Time went by and I forgot everything about modeling. Anyway it was way to late!

Freshly arrived in Mexico, after my six months stay in Bali, I had no idea of what I could do to increase my terrible banking situation; as poor as Cinderella before the whole Prince Charming thing, mumbling an approximated Spanish I had learned all by myself in a second-hand book I had bought because it was the cheapest, I was giving my resume to all the art galleries I could find, begging for a job I had no experience in. I wanted to be an art curator or assistant but I had no idea of what it took to realize it. I wanted to do this because I liked art and I wanted the prestige of it. I didn’t want to be a language teacher anymore because I was working too hard and barely surviving of it. I didn’t want to work in private aviation anymore because I was afraid to find the same negative persons I had to work with in Switzerland.

The rest of the jobs I had done were uninteresting or lame. I had no idea of Mexican culture. Curators and assistants were always saying:

“I will definitely call you back, let’s do something together!”

I was waiting… Nobody ever called. I waited days, weeks and a month; I eventually found out that things take ages here and at this moment, I casually found a French guy who promised to help me. He actually had no choice; I forced him, so he just said yes and did nothing, like all the people before. I am a little stubborn when I want something, especially when it’s about intellectual success! Two weeks later, I came back to check the art job situation with him. He was pretty busy; shooting for his new vintage art catalogue and he ignored me scornfully. I caught him immediately after his pictures and he answered my request in a cocky way.

“Agata, you cannot just go to people and ask them things. It’s annoying!”
He was quite right though I was expecting a little bit more compassion for being part of the same continent and culture… I remained sitting on the marble stairs and his photographer came to me. He spoke French, so we could have an actual conversation together:

“So… What do you do around here?”
“I am uh… Begging for a job in art… I guess…”
“Have you ever thought about modeling?”
“Modeling?? Like… A fashion model?”
“Yes!”
“I am 28. It’s quite late to be a model.”
“It doesn’t matter here. I think you look like the kind of girls they want; fair skin, dark hair, blue eyes. You are tall and skinny. You should give it a try!”

I came from the most intense spiritual development, in Bali… I had spent six months in the jungle, living in a house with no walls, doing humanitarian, working on myself with all kind of techniques and connecting with the spirits of Mother Earth… Modeling was the last job idea I had in mind.

“Well, I can’t. I am old! My hair is terrible. I have food-change pimples and I have not seen myself in a bikini since middle age!”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter trust me! Let me take some pictures and I will send them to the best agency I know.”

After taking some quick snapshots, he took my phone number, email address and said goodbye. The day after, opening my mailbox, I discover a model agency short message:

“Hello Agata, we received snapshots from our photographer friend and we want to see you in person.
Come to the Helios* Agency on Thursday.”

I had no art job. I spoke no Spanish. This was the only ajar door I saw in the dark.