The next day Mom got a call about me appearing on a local talk show. It was a cable access show that had one of their guests cancel. The producer had seen me on the other talk show and wanted to know if I would come on and talk about my Ingénue experience.
Part of me was excited I’d get to be on TV again. The other half of me was thinking I needed to stock up on anti-diarrhea medicine and bring an extra roll of toilet paper with me just in case.
“It’s not live, so you can relax about that,” Mom said. “The lady seemed nice on the phone. Because of your age, the host called me herself to put aside any fears or worries I might have about you appearing on the show. You’ll only be on for a few minutes, but they said it would give you some exposure and a chance to get used to being on camera again. It’s up to you if you want to do it.”
As nervous as I was about it, there was always the chance of someone big seeing it and casting me in a commercial or music video or something — or a certain show called As the Days Roll On, which needed a new love interest for Colin.
“Yeah, I want to do it,” I said.
“We have to get up early tomorrow to do this, and because it’s last minute, there are no prep questions or anything. You just go and talk about the show.”
“Okay, I need the practice to feel comfortable doing these things,” I said.
“All right, I’ll call her back.”
I said, “Fine,” but that night my stomach was anything but fine, and I could not shut off my brain to sleep. Mom insisted I go to bed early since we had to get up at the butt crack of dawn, but it was, like, a little kid bedtime, not a teenager’s bedtime. I reached over, got my phone, and texted Vladi about my interview.
Vladi: Cool. I’ll check and see if we get that channel.
I wrote him that I was getting super nervous about the whole thing. Then I wondered if I should have kept that to myself. He wrote back that his coach told him how to prepare for a game the night before. His coach said to picture all his shots going into the basket and the whole game going well. He said if you visualize it going well, it mentally prepares you and you go in more confident. Then he wrote:
Vladi: Maybe you could try that and picture yourself being confident on the set with that lady. I’m sure you’ll do great.
I decided to try that, but my stupid overthinking brain went haywire and I was up for hours thinking about the perfect interview. When my alarm went off the next morning, it felt like I had slept maybe three hours. And then I moved to look at my clock and realized that was about right. Ugh.
I got ready putting on a pair of school pants and my lavender V-neck sweater, but Mom told me my outfit didn’t look right for an interview. She made me change into a pink sweater dress of hers, which had a cowl neck that made my hair super staticky.
“My hair didn’t look great to begin with, and now I look like I got electrocuted,” I said.
“Here. Let me get a dryer sheet and I’ll smooth it down.”
The dryer sheet got rid of the flyaways, but now my hair was super flat. Mom took her big barreled curling iron and began to roll my hair around it. She hadn’t curled my hair for me since I was little. And then I remembered why as she burned the top of my ear.
“Ow!”
“Oops, sorry. I never was good with this thing,” she said. “Well, the front’s all that matters and it’s pretty much done. You look fine.”
Fine? Fine didn’t get you cast on As the Days Roll On. Fine didn’t get you a date with the lead singer of the Puking Baby Dolls. Fine didn’t—
“Come on, we need to leave now so we’re not late,” she said.
The studio was on the east side of town near two of the universities. The show’s producer told my mother that the building was next to one of the campus parking lots. I stared at the college buildings and wondered if I’d end up going to one of these schools. As a kid, I always thought I’d go to the school my parents went to or maybe another one in Chicago, but now I wasn’t sure. College seemed so far away in some ways, but at the same time I had to start thinking about it. Would I go away to school and be so far from my mom? What if I had some big emergency and I was a couple hours away? The schools here seemed nice, but they were big and overwhelming and I couldn’t see myself walking on this campus.
“This school is a lot bigger than I thought it would be,” Mom said. “You should keep this one in mind for down the road.”
My friend from the Ingénue competition, Kyra, told me she was going to go to a university in Flint for her undergrad stuff and then go to med school in either Ann Arbor or Lansing. She wanted to be a doctor because her mom had been sick for so much of her life, and Kyra wanted to be able to help people the way so many doctors and specialists helped her mother. My dad always knew he wanted to be a doctor, too, because his grandfather had health problems while my dad was growing up. It seemed like a lot of people decided what they wanted to do for a career based on things that happened when they were kids that impacted them. I knew I liked to write and that English was my favorite subject, but I had no clue what I wanted to be when I grew up. In a perfect world, I’d be an actress/model/writer, but I knew that was a long shot.
“Okay, we’re here. You ready?” Mom asked.
We walked up to the building and found a sign telling us to go to the side door. We went around the corner, and it was like we hit a wind tunnel. A blast of air hit me in the face, and my hair blew backward. Even Mom was taken by surprise as it blew something into her contact lens.
“Oh no, my eyes are watering,” she said shielding her face. “Don’t let me walk into anything.”
I guided her by the arm and buzzed us into the building. My eyes were watering, too, as I signed myself in as a guest.
“Landry?” one of the assistants said. “Why don’t you come back to the green room with me? Your sister can come along, too.”
I gritted my teeth as I explained she was my mother. Mom followed me back and we went into a small room that had two couches, a table, TV set, and a vanity where I caught my reflection.
“Ugh. My hair got destroyed in that wind,” I said.
“I have a comb in my purse,” Mom said as she poked at her eye. I was so glad I didn’t have to wear contacts because I couldn’t imagine having to touch my eyeball.
“What do I do? Comb through the mess and have it look super flat, but at least not like a bird’s nest?” I asked.
Mom bit her lip. “I don’t think you have a choice. You’re going to have to brush the curl out.”
If my hair had been longer, I could have pulled it all in front or over to one side — even put it up — but with the bob, all I could do was try to make it look presentable. I guess having it shorter did mean it fell into place a little better even if the style wasn’t as exciting.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“I’m still not used to you with the shorter hair,” Mom said as Tanna, the host, walked in.
“So nice to meet you, Landry,” Tanna said, shaking my hand. “Thank you for coming so last minute. I normally don’t do prep questions because I like the conversations to feel natural on camera, but due to your age, I don’t want to make you nervous. Basically we’re going to talk about your experiences on the show and how your feel about modeling and what you want to do in the future — that sort of thing. Again, because of your age, if I ask you anything you don’t feel comfortable with, then just touch the side of your hair and I’ll switch up my questions. I can’t imagine going on TV at fourteen, so I want this experience to be as positive for you as possible, okay? Any questions?”
I shook my head as Mom thanked her for being so considerate about the interview.
Tanna asked me if I wanted Mom to be in the studio for the interview.
“No, she’ll make me nervous,” I said.
“Your call,” she said and we walked over to the studio.
Someone walked over to me and handed me a tiny clip thing with a long wire attached and told me to pull it up through my sweater and they’d attach it to the top of the collar. Then they put a pack behind me for the microphone. The set was a table with a chair on either side of it. I had been expecting to sit on cushioned chairs next to each other, but these were more like dinner table chairs. The table idea was nice because I could hide my hands if they started shaking or something, and it would shield me a little bit, too. I sat down across from Tanna as her makeup person powdered her face.
“You okay there, Landry?” Tanna asked.
Nope, not in the slightest. Needed a bathroom trip, but seeing as I was wired into the chair, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Yeah, um, this might be a weird question, but how do people sit in these chairs? I mean, when they do the interviews, do they sit with their backs against the chair or are they leaning more on the table?”
She blinked. “You know, I never thought of that before you asked.”
Well, that’s what happens when you’re an over-thinker.
“Landry, you do whatever makes you feel the most comfortable. Again, if you are uneasy about any questions, just touch your hair. Do you need any water, sweetie?”
Seeing as I was trying not to wet myself all as we sat there, I didn’t think adding additional liquids was a wise choice, so I shook my head.
“Okay, the stage manager will count us down and then we’re on.”
“Wait, where do I look? At you or the camera?” I asked. Last time I faced the interviewer the whole time, but this was a longer segment.
“You just look right at me and pretend we’re sitting in my living room having a regular conversation. Don’t worry, you’ll do great.”
The stage manager began counting us down and Tanna did an intro.
“We’re here today with a local teen model who auditioned for the American Ingénue contest back in the fall and was called back for a Wild Card episode. We’ll talk to Landry Albright and find out what the competition is like behind the scenes and how she juggles school with her blossoming modeling career.”
Blossoming modeling career? If Yasmin had said that I would have thought she was making fun of me for having next to no career. I prayed Tanna wouldn’t ask me what jobs I had booked since the show, so I wouldn’t have to say none and embarrass myself.
“So, Landry, welcome to the show. Tell us all about your experience.”
And just like that my mind went blank. I couldn’t remember a thing from the first three rounds of the original competition other than taking anti-diarrhea medication. Come on, brain, think, think.
“Well… I… got a makeover.” Seriously? That was the best my mind could come up with? Well, at least I hadn’t starting spouting off about the cheating and lying and backstabbing backstage.
“That sounds interesting. Tell us about that.”
They sheared off all my hair and left me feeling exposed. “It was a bit nerve wracking because you don’t get a say in what they’re going to do. They pick the hairstyle and they are the experts, but it’s a big adjustment. I normally have long hair, past my shoulders, with bangs, but they cut it into a short bob—”
“That must have taken some getting used to.”
“Definitely, but in modeling, you don’t make those calls. The stylists do,” I said adding, “But they were all wonderful to work with, and I enjoyed the experience.”
“Now what is it like behind the scenes with the other models? Is there any backstabbing like you hear about on the gossip sites?” she asked. “I know the modeling industry can be brutal.”
I hated lying, but I also didn’t want to make the competition look bad.
“There’s always a little rivalry and gossip in anything that’s part of a competition, but we tried to stay as professional as possible,” I said. Wow, that came out sounding so adult. Tanna seemed impressed and I felt I had handled it pretty well.
“It’s admirable that you all were able to do that. Now tell me, how do you stay grounded in an industry where looks play such a big role?”
Oh man, this is the kind of question my mom would have the perfect answer for. What would she say?
“Well, my mom and my agent always remind me that modeling is a business and I have to look at it as a job and not take things personally — like rejection. Someone might not like my particular look for a show or whatever, but you can’t take it to heart.”
“But are you able to do that — not take it personally?”
I shrugged. “I’m only starting out, so I haven’t had a lot of jobs, but sure, sometimes it bothers me, but my favorite model, Talisa Milan, says if you want to work in the entertainment field then you have to have a thick skin and know that rejection is a big part of it. I don’t like it, but if this is what I want to do then I have to deal with it.”
“You are so mature for your age. I wish I had been half as mature when I was in eighth grade,” Tanna said.
Me? I hoped my mom was watching this in the green room.
“Is there any jealousy from girls at school—”
I put my hand up to smooth my hair and signal Tanna who stopped just like she promised she would.
“Speaking of school, how do you juggle your homework assignments with your jobs?” she asked. I exhaled with relief because Talisa had often talked about interviewers who were nice behind the scenes but changed when you were on camera with them.
“I almost never miss any school for work, and my mom makes my homework my priority so if I do have a job or something lined up for the weekend then I don’t go out that weekend with friends. Schoolwork comes first,” I said.
“That is refreshing to hear. Now you mentioned following Talisa Milan’s career advice, does this mean you want to pursue modeling after you graduate?”
“Well, my parents want me to go to college—” I hoped no top modeling agent had heard that and was thinking he/she was going to make me a star until he/she heard mommy and daddy were going to make me go to a university instead of taking the fashion world by storm. “—so we’ll see where that takes me. I’d like to go to school and work, but…” I started to flounder, not knowing how to finish my sentence.
“Well, you have a few years to decide that. Do you know what you might like to study in college?”
“I like to write and English lit is my favorite class.”
“Thank you so much for being on today, Landry. Up next, we will be cooking up a spicy new gumbo in the kitchen with Chef Lorenzo. Stay tuned.”
“And we’re clear,” the director said.
“Wonderful job, Landry,” Tanna said. “I had another model on a while back who was a senior in high school, and she wasn’t half as professional and mature as you came across. Good luck to you.”
I started to say, “Thank you,” but Tanna was up and walking halfway over to the kitchen set. The production assistant came to unhook my mic and took me back to the green room.
“That was great, hon,” Mom said. “You did such a good job with those questions. Way to dodge the gossip part. You might have a career in politics the way you handled yourself.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I sweated through the seat of my pants. Seriously, look. My butt is soaked and don’t ask me to lift my arms. I am soooo nasty right now.”
Mom laughed. “I did the same thing the first time I had a big presentation in college. Soaked right through my pants. You are so my kid.”
“Lovely. Why can’t I inherit, like, a yacht or something from you? No, I get your anxiety genes.”
“Ah, but speaking of anxiety genes — I came prepared with another type of ‘anxiety jeans.’ I brought you a change of clothes in my bag. Complete with,” she lowered her voice and leaned in, “a fresh pair of panties.”
“So you knew I’d stress out that bad?”
“No, but I always bring backup underwear and pants on my work presentation days, so it’s second nature for me,” she said.
“Wait, you still get nervous doing those even now?”
“Yup, fear never leaves me. I just learn to put those feelings in their place and push through it. It’s not easy, but I try to think of the reward versus the worst case scenario.”
“All I can think about is the worst case scenario,” I said.
Mom nodded. “But that’s not such a bad thing though because it can help you to prepare and be ready for anything that’s thrown your way.”
“I never thought of it that way before.”
I took mom’s tote bag into the bathroom and changed. When I came out, there was an older woman waiting outside the restroom.
“Excuse me, Landry, is it?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“I’m Perri. You did a nice job on the set today, young lady. You handled yourself with a lot of poise and maturity.”
“Thank you.”
“You mentioned you might want to study English when you go to school because you like to write,” Perri said.
I nodded, and she asked if she could speak to me for a moment. My mom went to check her messages while Perri took me back to the green room, which was empty. She sat me down.
“When I was your age, there weren’t a lot of women, hardly any, who were doing TV production work. I got talked out of pursuing it because everyone said as a woman I’d never get hired and it was a long shot, so I ended up getting a job working in the factory in my hometown. It was good work and I had a steady paycheck, but it always bothered me that I let other people talk me out of something I wanted. Then when I had my fiftieth birthday, it hit me. Why can’t I still pursue it? And you know what happened?”
I shook my head.
“All my friends said just about the same thing except instead of saying I was too young and a female, now they were saying I was too old to start a new career path. Now think about that for a minute. I was supposed to put my dream on the shelf because other people thought I was too old? Now when I was younger, I listened, but now I was older and wiser and I said, ‘That’s your opinion, but my opinion is that I can still try and go after it’,” she said. “Anytime you want to pursue something risky, people will try to talk you out of it. They may even think they mean well, but you just let them say their bit, nod your head, and then if it’s truly in your heart, you go on and pursue it. You understand?”
I nodded. I told her that reminded me of what my dad said about his friends trying to talk him out of applying for med school and how my mom had people say she shouldn’t take the job in Grand Rapids.
“It’s a hard life when you pursue something people don’t understand. If you want to do that, then you have to be prepared to hear all sorts of comments trying to talk you out of it. But you just keep your focus here,” she said putting her hand out in front of her. “Keep looking straight ahead and stay in your own lane. Don’t worry about what someone is doing over here. Know that you have your own plans and goals and you just keep focusing forward and you’ll be all right, you know?”
“Thank you. I—I have a lot of friends who… well… they discourage me a little bit from all of this. And sometimes people talk about me when I do things like this. Like, I didn’t even tell a lot of people at school I was coming here today because they say stuff like, ‘Oh, who does she think she is going on TV?’”
“Mm-hmm, people can be jealous, and jealous is an ugly thing to be.”
One of the production assistants came in the room and told Perri they needed her.
“Landry, you have a good head on your shoulders, and I think you will be just fine as long as you don’t worry about what other people are saying. They can talk all they want, but you don’t have to listen,” Perri said as she stood up. “Good luck to you, honey. I will be rooting for you.”
“Thank you. And I’m glad you didn’t listen to all those people who tried to talk you out of everything.”
She leaned forward and winked. “Me, too.”