Half Bulimic

I’d say 3 times is the amount of pre-runway show vomits I’ve heard. The first time I was genuinely concerned for the haggard 5’11” 17 year old with a French accent. “Oh my god are you ok? Can I get you some water?” “Nope.” As she rinsed out her mouth and wiped the mascara from underneath her teary eyes. “Oh…right…” I said to myself. I felt like an idiot for not realizing what was going on, then left the restroom and made my way to the snack table. Mini cupcakes from Magnolia!

My agent called me in to take polaroids (the fact that they still use this term is slightly annoying) to send to a client in Korea. I put on my swimsuit and heels and prance around my agency half naked. We go up to the roof for better lighting and he snaps off about 20 photos. We head back down to show them to the owner, and she tells me to come talk to her. I sashay over to her in my bikini and heels and she asks if I’ve been working out. “Yes of course, 3-4 times a week” which is a complete lie, I’m a lazy piece of shit. “Your thighs are getting thick.” Wow, I just got burned by a 50-something year old woman. All I wanted to say was “Well your vagina is probably prolapsing.” I act disconcerted and tell them I’ll work on it.

Fast forward to a week later and I’m eating Doritos at 4am. I’m an emotional eater, but who the fuck isnt’? If I weren’t 5’9″ I’m convinced I would be a fat piece of shit. The only thing that keeps me skinny is purely egocentric reasoning: guys don’t like fat chicks. I’m preposterously insecure and relish from being the prettiest & skinniest girl in the room. The idea of being a model is much more awesome than actually having the job. The paychecks are nice too, I’ll admit, but being called a model is fulfilling some sick self-envisage I had when I was in elementary school being made fun of for being the ugly tall girl with awful teeth who couldn’t afford braces. The thought of the person who is the “Look at me now bitch!” type makes me want to vomit. I think I’ve become a fraction of that person, unfortunately, but I still take anti-depressants and call myself a fat piece of shit. I thought about puking up those Doritos but being half bulimic (the half that stuffs their face with junk food) is easier than shoving a toothbrush down your throat. Besides, the acids in your stomach cause your teeth to rot over time, who wants that?

“Nothing tastes as good as being skinny.” -Kate Moss

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