The agency director called me in for a one-on-one meeting, which was uncommon, but I knew what it was about. It was February, castings for Paris's Fall/Winter fashion week had already begun and for me, they hadn't been going well. It was because of my body.
I sat down in the padded leather armchair across the desk from the director, a man in his late thirties, maybe early forties. (Years spent working in the modeling industry has skewed my ability to determine people's ages.) Oversized black and white images of semi-dressed girls lined the walls, blown...
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