She had been discovered by Anna, the professional booker of Mode Models (she had discovered Heidi Klum which always impressed her) during a trade fair she hadn't wanted to go to with her parents.
She had showed her card to her parents and they were impressed. In the early days they came to the offices with her, now she had officially left school they trusted her in her new career. They had liked Anna as she acted like a surrogate mother despite her appearance of prettiest lesbian who had the face of a super-model herself.
Anna was in charge of her career and was helping her develop her portfolio. What Anna said, went. She trusted her with her life. Anna believed in her and wanted her commission too. She got 15% as was the norm in modeling. Her portfolio was growing but she could tell Anna wasn't 100% happy. Finally she told her what was troubling her- "The thing is, your look's not quite right..... We are trying to make you appeal to an area where we think you can earn the most money" "OK" she said waiting for what was to come
"My bosses have told me that the whole sexy Lolita thing isn't working, you are getting too old for that" The smile ran away from her face.
"We need to give you a new look to expose your true beauty and maximize your appeal"
So that was it, a new look. This was what the friends she had made had all had but that she had managed to get away with when she first started. They moaned about their alien styling but she had just been "as seen". It excited her.
She looked at herself in the long mirror in the studio attached to the modeling office. What will they change she pondered to herself.
She inspected her forehead, wider than she would have liked but then that had always been big on account of her elbow-length hair (that was trimmed by a centimetre every 2 months) was always worn up, her nose pretty as a button, her freckles "part of her appeal" according to Anna, her mouth (looks bigger with lipstick), her breasts average but she liked them enough, her clothes vintage but not particularly young. She saw what the companies liked and was assured by Anna's faith in her that her career would thrive.
She had been summoned to the office for Anna to style her. She was looking forward to this new look. She was going to enjoy changing.
Anna and her tried different combinations of clothes on leaving three piles, a maybe, a definite yes and a rejection pile. Then Anna went to speak to her boss. She saw money exchange hands and then they left.
She was impressed as they parked the car outside the hairdressers her friends used. Her excitement was reaching a crescendo. She had never thought about her hair before but she'd never had it short. But any doubts were discarded. She trusted Anna. Anna would never do her wrong, it was detrimental to both their careers if she did!
The stylist and Anna had a brief chat. She didn't listen, she just gawped. So this is what a hair-dressers is like. Buzzing with chatter and strange smells.
She was seated and placed in front of the mirror. The stylist fiddled with her hair while Anna whispered to her. The stylist agreed with what Anna said. She was taken for her hair to be washed.
She liked this, lying back having someone else wash your hair was pure luxury. She felt that she had finally arrived. The model life was hers- she loved being a model. "What do you do?" "I'm a model" it brought a coy smile to her face.
She was led to a chair in front of a mirror and a black cape was placed around her shoulders then a towel. Anna gave her a small wave and said "The stylist knows what to do, I'll be back to pay" and was gone.
She sat there looking at herself in the mirror with wet hair. It was official, she had arrived.
She waited patiently. The stylist, a tall woman who looked a bit like her aunty in her clothes (v-neck sweater, short, business-like hair with highlights which made her look younger than her age) returned with her scissors, comb, hair-brush and trolley. She didn't see what was on the trolley but it did make her feel important.
She convinced herself that she didn't mind, whatever she did was for her career.
The stylist picked up a big comb not dissimilar to the one her mother owned when her hair was curly. She decided to just watch her own face, and watch the transformation take place. She just hoped that Anna's faith in her wasn't mis-placed.
The stylist brushed her dripping hair to the ends near the bottom of her seat (it hadn't been trimmed for a while) then placed the comb facing upwards with the handle facing the floor so that the comb caught all of her hair and was pressed to her scalp. The feel of the comb next to her skin was odd, but looked okay in the mirror. Her stomach lurched as she heard an engine being turned on. She daren't look, but she saw the black shaver soon enough. Her eyes widened and she wanted to cry as she watched, helpless as it dug into her long locks as she plunged it from the handle of the comb swiping up, close to her scalp till the locks were severed and her hand with the shaver in it was in the air! She did not feel well as she felt the locks flow to her lap, some idling onto the floor.
The stylist progressed with the same proceedure, placing the comb handle down pressed to her scalp to the sides of her head. She looked at her face in the mirror. This was the longest she had gone wanting to cry but being unable to. She felt odd. She started charting in her head. "I trust Anna" It made her feel better and she started to smile.
Before she knew it one side of her head was short. The stylist turned her head and the shorn side to the mirror to check her work and gave it the seal of approval. It didn't feel like her head. Her stomach lurched. The stylist moved her head to the other side, leaving the back till last and launched again with the comb from the comb's handle into the air as the hair fell like a water-fall.
It made her client feel sick watching the hair stick to the chair, she much preferred it when it fell to the floor. This ordeal was so painful for her but she had made herself watch. "Anna's not wrong. I'll look good".
The stylist had finished with the sides. She caught a glimpse in the mirror opposite and was stunned to see that the length of her usual pony-tail was still there. It was going to be all right. She started to relax as the stylist brushed away the fallen hair from around her feet.
She tidied the sides up with the shaver and the scissors.
IT WAS A FLAT-TOP!
My, she looked really pretty- a real super-model. She didn't believe that it was her, finally a grown up. She even smiled as the stylist took the pony-tail at the back of her head and she relished the tickle around her neck as the stylist tidied her up.
She left with a 1/4 inch buzz-cut. It felt good. Anna was apprehensive as she picked her up but she needed have worried. Yes, she had lost 7 and 1/2 inches of hair but it was worth it.
Anna had been right.
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