Wednesday, November 14, 2012
As everyone doesn't know I'm infatuated with Slate Magazine. How could you not be with headlines such as, "I Wore a 'Man Bun' and Waxed My Pubic Hair Because of the New York Times," and "When Did People Start Calling Each Other “Poopy Head'?" It is articles like these that get America back in line to where it should be: finding out about defecation faces and following others because we can't think for ourselves.
WE LIVE IN A NEW AMERICA.
I peruse Slate on a twice daily basis. Besides being the leftist equivalent of Fox News of internet magazines without the hot blondes and raving lunatic Karl Rove, it does have some things which I find absolutely fascinating. Such as their advice column which I hate love daily. We could all sit here and surmise that I'm saying nice things about Slate because my dream is to have an article there and they've turned me down more than 30 times, but that would be absolutely correct and in today's day and age we have no room for the truth. You can't handle blah blah.
So while in the midst of this love fest that can only rival Paris Hilton and everyone with a penis, I saw an article that mildly intrigued me on this site of the Gods.
"What Is It Like to Date or Marry a Fashion Model?"
Slate has another offshoot website, Quora, which lets readers ask questions that hopefully someone else has the answer to. It's just like peppering your parents with cockamamie questions that they don't feel like answering. Except in this case important people or people that want to be important or "insiders" answer the questions in a somewhat intelligent way and not with a "Ask your mother."
One of the dreams of a red blooded heterosexual male is to date a model. Some men may say they don't think about it, but I'll cut to the chase. They are all liars. If one of your friends says he won't go out with a model because his non model wife is hotter then kick him in the testes. (Fine print: Your Beard is Good is not liable for any injuries or reactions this may cause. Please consult a lawyer.) On the dream list of men, dating a model has to be somewhere in the top ten. A top ten that includes among others: 3somes, dunking a basketball, reenacting a scene you saw in a porno, owning a car that makes people look, and pantsing your boss in a budget meeting.
Pants off, Finance Off
I started reading the article and my emotions went from intrigue, to anger, to more anger, to lying down angry. It was exactly like the 12 step process if the 12 steps were in reference to your best friend sleeping with your girlfriend while simultaneously punching you in the face. From the article:
Almost every model in her late 20s (including the woman I dated) begins to worry incessantly (when she isn't worrying about nonexistent eye wrinkles) about how to make herself into a "brand" and transition into being a supermodel, which is pretty much the only postmodeling career available to you in this line of work.
That nugget right there is pretty interesting. I never knew that the retirement home for being a regular model was the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit issue or a horrendous daytime talk show. But now it does make sense why crazy Tyra Banks is still around. Please continue model dating impresario.
As a couple and as a man, you are immediately accorded utterly absurd amounts of social consideration. Any time we were out, we'd get special treatment. Not just from service people but just regular people. People would regularly offer to let us cut in front of them in lines at restaurants, grocery stores, even once at the DMV(!) when we happened to go together.
This seems pretty self explanatory. When you date someone that's A) super hot and B) a model, people like giving you free stuff. It's just like when I go to a gas station or 7-11 and the cashier will let me take a lighter for free. I hear you Hot Girlfriend Guy.
Of course we could get into clubs, although this is not as great as it seems because every two-bit wannabe pickup artist would try to chat "us" (really just her) up when we were just there to dance and have a good time with friends.
Oh. Boo-Hoo. Your hot girlfriend that was getting you all this free stuff was getting hit on by the hoi polloi. How sad for you? I mean it's not like you were GETTING FREE STUFF ALL THE TIME or anything. I wish there was some way this would balance out in the karma of life.
We were a pretty good-looking couple (well, she was—I was a chump in a nice suit), and we would always get offered the first-class upgrades.
F-You. But I see what you did there trying to tone down your looks in competition with hers. Note: The self deprecating bit doesn't work when people are legitimately making it rain on you through an airport.
Her finances were always a mess. I've heard this is often an issue with people who work in industries where you get irregular lump-sum payments for your work.... I made the wise decision to keep our finances completely separate even when we started living together and "splitting" the rent, which more often than not turned out to be me footing all of the rent for that month and her paying me back months later when she got paid.
"Damn, dating a supermodel is the worst." - No one.
Ultimately though, the most frustrating thing about the whole experience is that despite being absolutely drop-dead gorgeous (some models look "strange," while others are more conventionally beautiful, and she was one of the conventionally beautiful ones), she became increasingly insecure and worried about her "declining" looks.
Pretty frustrating to date someone really hot. I can see that. I mean I would totally get annoyed of their hotness and be annoyed when she did other things other than look hot. Stop looking so hot I would say. Oh wait, I would never say that.
At one point, I thought maybe we could make it work as a joint venture, with her doing the modeling and speaking and industry relationships, and I would handle the finance and "business" pieces, but her negativity and insecurity about everything had totally poisoned things between us so much by then that I just couldn't handle it anymore.
Finally, I met someone when I was home for Christmas when my mom, before I could stop her, introduced me as "my son, who is dating the supermodel" to a girl I'd been friends with in high school, which of course got her to talk to me. She now says she was impressed not because I was dating a supermodel, but because I was helping her with her finances and "good with business," and now she is my fiancée.
The lesson here. Never date someone so attractive because they will throw money at Jimmy Choos and never get you anything for free unless that is everything. Always go for the average girls. They like finance.
Maybe that guy should go pants his boss now.