Moving On to Milan & My Dirty Little Secret

My season in Miami ended at the end of February. I had thought about staying for a few weeks into March, but by then my mother agency, Q6 Talent, had placed me in Milan with a reputable boutique agency called Eye for I. The owners were on the horn with my booker at Q6 on a weekly basis from the beginning of February asking when I would be flying out to Milan as they had a lot of clients showing interest in me and one photogrpaher was already starting to line up some jobs. I hemmed & hawed with them because I really didn't want to commit to a date since I loved being in Miami so much and I would be the first of my group of friends to be leaving.....but the pressure kept mounting so I booked my plane ticket and was off.

I have to admit that the prospect of going to Italy was both exciting and disturbing. I had toured the country and loved it when I was in college, but somewhere in between my Asian modeling trips I had actually, and this is my dirty little secret, gone to Milan with another agency and stayed for a total of 7 days before hightailing it outta there and none too quickly. I was scouted in Portland right after I had gotten back from Taiwan and asked to fly out to Milan within two weeks. I was besides myself with excitement and because my mother agency had not heard anything bad about the agency that scouted me I was on that plane quicker than you can blink an eye. I will not disclose the name of the agency as they have since grown to have a pretty powerful reputation, but trust me, when I was there, it was not a good place.

My first trip to Milan is not one that I like to count as a season or an actual modeling trip.....it was a bad experience, and since most of my modeling experiences have been nothing but positive, this is one that I prefer to keep locked away in the catacombs of my brain....but why write my memoirs & not include it...right? So here goes....I get to Milan, move into my tiny and filthy models apartment with two other models, Beata from Poland and Rikke from Denmark. They were sweethearts so that was great, although Beata was dating an Italian P.R. which meant our phone rang off the hook day & night with other P.R.'s asking us out to party and dinners.

As a model in Milan you quickly find out what a P.R. is and that you should stay away from them at all costs. P.R.'s are Italian men who are paid by the Milanese clubs & restaurants to take models out in order to provide eye candy for the other patrons. Yes, in Miami we also got VIP treatment at clubs and got invited to parties by promoters but the vibe was totally different. P.R.'s are very, and almost harrassingly, persistant and once you give them your number they will hound you like a stalker until you agree to go out with them....then they put the moves on you. Luckily, Beata's boyfriend was her boyfriend so the few times I joined them on a night out that week I didn't feel too weird although watching the other P.R. vultures in action was rather sickening. These men are notorious for slipping GHB in an ususpecting girl's drink and then welll....I'm sure you have all seen this kind of stuff on Dateline.

My third night in Milan, my roomates and I were called by our model scout, Fabio, and told that we would be required to attend an agency dinner later that evening and that he would be picking us up at 10pm. Agency dinners anywhere are a normal and good way to get to know who you are working with , meet your fellow models, make contacts, etc. I didnt think this was too odd of a request although being told that we were "required" to go should have been a red flag. Most agencies invite you to their dinners and whether you show up or not is up to you.

Fabio showed up as promised, took us to a very elegant restaurant and that is when things started to get strange. There were only three other girls there from the agency, and they were already in varying stages of drunkeness, there were no bookers or clients, but in their stead there was a handful of very old and very aristocratic looking men. Hmmmm. I sat with my roomates on either side of me and commenced to eat and make small talk with the other models all the while noticing how these men were eyeing us like wolves. Uncomfortable? Hell yes. After dinner we were then taken to the home of one of the men who happened to be an Italian count for "dessert" and espresso. Since the restaurant, and subsequently the count's house, were on the outskirts of Milan, we had no choice but to go along....had I been in Milan longer than three days, you better believe that at this point I would have figured out a way to get home and pronto.

The count's house was a palazzo....entirely divine and had been featured in an issue of Architectural Digest which was proudly displayed on a coffee table. What the palazzo did not offer however was dessert and espresso. Champagne was uncorked and served, and I passed time & time again on the offers of bubbly. At this point I was completely uncomfortable and my fight or flight instinct was on at full throttle.....and that was even before we were escorted to the basement...or should I say "love den". The man had a basement that was fully tiled in black marble with a black marble swimming pool in it, a sauna, tennis court (not marble...jeez!), and a huge round bed covered in black silk sheets. Had I somehow been transported to the set of some really bad porn? Felt like it.

When I saw what was going on I asked my scout to take me home and he not so graciously declined while stripping to his boxers right next to me. At this point the other girls, with the exception of one of my roomies, had started taking off their clothes and jumping into the pool with the lecherous geriatrics. I sat on the edge of the bed with my coat on even though I remember it was pretty damn warm in there and watched on in disbelief. The girls were squealing and flirting with these nasty old men, letting themselves be groped and lord knows what else. After what may have been 5 minutes but seemed more like an eternity I got up and started to leave. I had no idea where in the hell I was, had no money for a cab but I was bound & determined to get the hell out of that sex hole hell. Here I was, a model, a professional, being treated like an escort. The other girls may have been fine with it, but this went way beyond anything I would ever be willing to do or be a part of. When my scout noticed me leaving he walked over me, dripping wet, and told me not to be stupid, to loosen up & have fun since these were important men & I would not want to make a bad impression on them. WTF? I left anyways and took my one clothed roomate with me.

Somehow, and by the grace of God, the count's chauffeur agreed to drive us back into town although he got lost and we ended up hoofing it back to our apartment on Beatrice D'Este. I got on the phone immediately and made calls to my agency leaving messages and later talking to them telling them I wanted out and that I would be booking a flight home the next day. I ended up staying for four more days because of airline issues, and left swearing I would never return. Later I found out that this and several other agencies that are actually legitimate modeling agencies in Milan were participating in this kind of behaviour.....wealthy men would pay to have models come out and join then for dinners, etc. much like an escort would, albeit unknowingly. Highly disturbing. One of the girls that night was only 15.

Ok, so now can you see why I was a little hesitant to go back to Milan? I hate thinking about that trip, hate admitting that I got suckered in to a situation like that......it's been my dirty little modeling secret for a long time. What put me on the plane this second time was the fact that my booker at Q6 knew the owners of the agency (Eye for I) who were a husband & wife team and the fact that I would be meeting up with some of my friends from Miami while there. Jean-Paul was going to be in Milan with Why Not and Kari would be going to Athens and joining us later with IMM Agency. What did I have to loose? So it was time to bid South Beach farewell....but not without a promise to return.....


I'd be giving up my Miami comp to go overseas and see what Italy could do for me......