I have aspired to be a supermodel from the moment I was yanked out of my mother’s womb. I have dreamed about being the centre of attention by showing the citizens of the world my amazingly great looks and mile-long legs. Many people have told me, over and over again, to be a supermodel. I haven’t eaten any real food since 2001 and I have used up all of my bartending money on numerous plastic surgeries to perfect my good looks. I’ve even mastered Photoshop to enhance my already perfect features on all of the photos which I make public. In general, I believe I have the whole package and that I’d be stupid not to capitalize on my good looks.
Here are the reasons why I desperately want to model:
1. I want to have a team of professionals to make me flawless at all times. I want to have a nutritionist create “green” concoctions of the finest organic fruits and vegetables (which I intend on purging because plants have a lot of calories!). I want to have the best stylist, the best make-up artist, the best hair stylist. And while they’re working on me I want to be able to do this:
I don’t want to have to keep going to First Choice Hair Cutters and I’m very tired of the make-up section in Walmart. I’m also exhausted from shopping my own closet…it’s difficult to coordinate the items you’ve scavenged at Value Village. The most important professional, however, will have to be my personal trainer. He’ll keep my body tight and fit forever. He’ll also be responsible for making sure I look hot at the gym. As a model, I have to take sexually enticing images of myself so that I can satisfy millions of my social media followers. Exactly like this girl:
2. I want to receive free high-end designer clothing and accessories. Who said you can’t stuff your “groceries” in a $10,000 Birkin bag for a bit of shameless promotion? I want to get free stuff from all of the top designers, especially those based out of NYC. I’m seriously cheap – by default – and I’m Balkan so I really need to be decked-out in the finest garments (preferably in the color black) for free. Please don’t forget that I’m really serious about living in NYC because it’s much easier and convenient to go to a fitting when you live in the area.
3. I want to have men swoon over my beauty. Everyone knows that models always get their way when it comes to men. In fact, if you’re a legitimate supermodel, your stock is at its highest point because you’ve officially been recognized by professionals as being one of the hottest women on the planet. The day one is presented with the official status of being a supermodel is like the day one is given a Sherbank Visa Infinite Gold card without having to pay anything in return. I want men to chase after me in the same way that they chase after wings and beer in the finest of sports bars. However, I won’t settle with a man unless he owns a yacht and has millions of dollars sitting in a bank account in Belize which he is ready to spend, spend, and spend. That’s just common sense. That’s what all the supermodels do! Being objectified is every girl’s dream. Embracing materialism at its core by selling my body for money is the point of capitalism.
4. I want to travel the world for free. I want to model all over the world and travel non-stop until I finally lose consciousness from overexhaustion and malnutrition. I want to spend hours waiting around sets and stages until my “team” are ready to turn me into a glamazon. I want to go to Paris, wear stripes, and eat a delicious croissant under the twinkling lights of the Eiffel Tower while people chase me for autographs. I will frolic through the world’s airports where I will attract photographers to incessantly take photos of my fabulous fashion sense. I need to have photos in an airport terminal to prove to my fanbase that I can travel in style but be comfortable as well… #airportfashion y’all!
5. I want to be popular and supermodels have the highest popularity in the modeling world. I’m tired of having less than 100 Twitter followers…I want millions! Supermodels have millions of fans. I also want to have many hot supermodel friends so that we can feed off each other’s insecurities and fame. Strength is achieved in numbers. To further increase my popularity I want photographers to take photos of me on balconies when I’m on my iPhone with no makeup. I want photographers to take snaps of my strategically exposed bum while I walk into Starbucks wearing haggard Daisy Dukes, on the beach (especially when I’m hanging out with my fabulous friends because that’s what PR people tell you to do), and getting out of my car. This last point is crucially important because I need to prove to the world that I don’t wear underwear as this is one of the best opportunities to nab a spot in the fine literary pages of US Weekly. I also want to show my fanbase that I’m not only drop-dead gorgeous and popular, but that I’m also very real too. Exactly like Brooklyn Decker when she took to twitter and posted “You guys, honest moment: I just peed on my own back porch bc I locked myself out, am waiting on a locksmith and couldn’t hold it any longer.”