LITMIR.BIZ

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Dmitry Malikov and a film director, Vladimir Yankovsky; they choose me. It had to wait until my sixteenth birthday in order to legally cross all the borders. It was the first time I had ever flown alone, and I liked it.

      The agency office was located just in front of the Eiffel Tower, on the glamorous Avenue Montaigne on the right bank of the Seine.

      “Now, let’s take the measurements,” said Samantha, the director of the booking.

      This procedure takes place almost every week for beginning models, and every extra millimeter is taken into account. I had always been naturally thin and never followed a diet. Calories consumed by themselves, and I even had to gain weight for certain clients, in order to keep a certain chest size.

      “We are going to send you tomorrow to meet Karl Lagerfeld at the Chanel fashion house; he has an office on our street!’ said Samantha. ‘And now, shopping! You have to transform yourself: you must become a true Parisian,” she said.

      I had only about a hundred U.S. dollars in my pocket, but the agency made a commitment to pay all the costs. At accounting, I was given five hundred francs for a week. The apartment where I stayed with two other Russian models was located in the seventeenth arrondissement, and I could get to the agency by bus or the Metro. They gave me a map of the city that I had to study in detail because I sometimes had a dozen castings a day.

      I was hired right away, from the first casting. At the rendezvous, the famous and futuristic Japanese designer Issey Miyake invited me to present the youth collection. Thanks to that, I could repay the agency for my air tickets and my renovated wardrobe. But expenses accumulated quickly. We had to pay the agency rent for our apartment and often photo tests with photographers. There were also phone calls, the photo prints, and the courier services to be paid. So, even though I had work, I found myself in at the end of the month. Something had to change.

      In the aforementioned small agency, there were “queens,” that is, “superior” girls, and now, a young lady decided to eliminate her rival and spread rumors on her.

      We met with Sylvie in casting, and she invited me to her house for lunch. As we ate, she told me about her life. She said that she had been living in Paris for five years, that she had just broken up with her boyfriend, an Italian photographer, and that she was now trying to fall in love. As we talked, Sylvie rolled a joint and offered me a puff. That evening, after returning to the agency’s apartment, I found that someone had put a bag of marijuana in my bag. The next day, I was summoned to the director of the agency Michel.

      “Anna, how is it possible? We have a contract, and you trade drugs?” said Michel, clearly angry. “Sylvie told us everything! You’re in town with a bag filled with marijuana!” he exclaimed. “What must we do? Tomorrow, there’s a special dinner being held at André’s. Be ready, otherwise we will have a serious talk about your future in Paris. It cannot last! Do you understand? Is that clear?” he finally said.

      Chapter 4. Dinner at André’s Place

      It was the weekend; I did not want to go to this agency dinner. I had a strange feeling about it, but I could not cancel.

      Alex called me to confirm the dinner time and to try to show me who was the boss. The famous fashion photographer André was ready to meet new models of the agency.

      “Anna, this photographer can change your life, as he has done for many models,” she said, very seriously. “André just took the shots of Karen Mulder for the covers of Vogue and ELLE and we cannot miss such a fabulous opportunity. Stephan will pick you up tomorrow at five o’clock in the afternoon. Wear the clothes we bought together, please.”

      When I first arrived in Paris, there were only colorful rave-party clothes in my arsenal, clothes which were fashionable in the mid-nineties. My favorite clothes were exclusively blue and I dreamed of dying my hair blue which I would have done too, if I hadn’t signed with the agency. But everything Alex had bought me was black: a black miniskirt, a fitted black jacket to lengthen the feminine silhouette, a tight black shirt, and black high-heeled shoes.

      The dinner was held in a chic, multistory apartment with a terrace. In addition to Michel and Alex, there were two other models from the agency were there.

      “Hi, André! Let me introduce you to the new delivery that has just arrived,” Michel said.

      André tapped Michel on the shoulder and invited us in. The living room walls were full of photographers he had taken. After the main course, André approached Natalia, a blonde from Riga, and whispered something in her ear. Both climbed the glass staircase, and we all stayed downstairs drinking champagne.

      “Alex, what do you think they went up there for?” I asked. I was interested.

      Alex pretended not to have heard my question and continued his conversation with a beautiful brunette from Romania. Natalia came back downstairs. Her hair was disheveled, and there was not even a trace of her scarlet lipstick. She headed directly into the bathroom where she stayed for at least half an hour. Then André himself came down and, as if nothing had happened, finished eating the food he had left on his plate. I went out on the balcony to smoke. I wanted to go back to my apartment as soon as possible and listen to music. I had an uncomfortable feeling, and Natalia’s worried look spoke for itself. I knew this did not suit me, and I was ready to end my relationship with the agency if it persisted in demanding such dinners. That’s when André himself joined me on the balcony.

      “Natalia, is she your friend? We have a wonderful view from here, don’t we? You can see and admire the Grande Arch,” said André.

      I did not answer and instead just lit a new cigarette. André “gallantly” lighted up my cigarette me and asked, “Do you want me to show you my pictures upstairs?” he asked.

      “Maybe, you want to come tomorrow to the Pin-Up studio with your friend for a photo shoot? It might be possible for you to get a test shot.”

      André was unpleasant. There were traces of Natalia’s lipstick on his neck. I gave him an icy look and went back to the living room to ask Alex to take me home. She must have sensed my determination. She did not object.

      “Yes, of course! Darling, you don’t need to worry! Stephan will drop you off right away. Whatever you want. It’s important to get some sleep well, and you have to work on Monday!” Alex said.

      Chapter 5. ¡No pasarán!

      “Miss, what’s your name? I heard from a colleague that you are looking to change agencies?” said Ada.

      So, I met Ada. The majestic brunette with rapacious eyes approached me in the hallway of a room where dozens of beauties were queuing for a casting. Ada was the agent who represented a model from Tallinn. After the casting, we went for coffee at a nearby café, I told Ada that I was dissatisfied with the agency I was working for and I wanted to find a bigger agency.

      “I think that you will like Marilyn’s management a lot. As for your agency, they will settle all the affairs themselves; there is nothing to be afraid of,” Ada said reassuringly.

      Ada suggested not leaving this important matter for later and we went immediately to the offices of Marilyn agency located near the Place Vendôme, a legendary square became home to the Ritz Hotel and some of the world’s most prestigious jewelry stores. On the way there, Ada told me that she would be taking ten percent for her services, but that it was the agency that would pay the ten percent on the basis of the twenty percent usually applied. She also offered to take care of me personally for an additional ten percent of my personal income. I didn’t rush to reply; I wanted to see what the new agency would offer me.

      “Well, Ada, for me, the girl suits us, what about papers?”

      The Parisian agency Marilyn Gauthier was one of the most sought after in the capital. It is to this

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