America’s Next *Male* Top Model

Posted May 7, 2008 at 01:30 PM by Donnell Peavy

Section: His Fitness, Alt. Therapies, His Gear & Apparel, Equipment, Apparel, His Health, Physical Health, Lifestyle Health, His Inspiration, Success Stories

About two weeks ago, I received a phone call from a friend. She told me that she was helping to coordinate a fashion show – considering that my night job is club security, I automatically assumed she wanted me to work the door or something for her. “No,” she said, “We are a male short, and they told me to get a big guy for eye candy, and you were the first person to pop into my head. It’s a paying gig and it will be a lot of fun.” Wow. Not being one who likes to disappoint, I agreed. I mean, really, how hard could it be, right?

First, I was given the name of a fashion designer that I could never get hold of. I was finally able to get in touch with him, but we were unable to meet due to scheduling conflicts. A week later, a family emergency arose and I had to rush out of town – the weekend of the fashion show, but I was supposed to be back in time for it. I talked to the coordinator while I was gone and she offered to go pick out some clothes for me, but I declined, as my legs are huge compared to my waist size, making fitting difficult. The company we ended up getting our clothes provided by didn’t have swimsuits, however, and I didn’t have time to pick one up, so she took care of that for me. We decided that I would pick out my clothes as soon as I got back in town on the day of the fashion show.

Saturday arrived. I hadn’t. I didn’t get into town until three hours before the fashion show, and I still had to clean up, return the rental car and go pick out my clothes. I hopped in the shower, got dressed and headed to take the car back. I filled the gas tank to maximum capacity and drove to the lot. For some unknown reason it took approximately 1/8th of a tank of gas to get there. I’m thinking “what the hell?!” as I had just driven for 14 hours and only had to fill up twice. Strangeness aside, I filled up AGAIN and then went to the rental lot because I absolutely refused to pay $7.19 per gallon which is what the lot charged you if they had to gas it up. Two hours until show time.

From there I headed to the mall to pick out my clothes. I picked out several outfits – all of them had already been picked by the other models. They had a lot of nice clothes though, so I was able to find something eventually. The jeans they had in various brands all ran really small – they looked like they were tattooed on me. The store owner told me that tight jeans were the style in Brazil, so I was looking good and very fashionable – but I was not in Brazil and, well, my guys needed room. I was finally able to find the last pair of the biggest jeans they had, and while still somewhat tight, they fit better then everything else. I picked out some linen pants and some nice shirts. It was then that I found out that shoes were not being provided either. Being always prepared, I had shoes in my car already. 55 minutes and counting.

On my way to the venue, I realized that I didn’t know where it was, so I phoned the coordinator several times in an attempt to get directions. Voicemail. I sat in a parking lot waiting on a return phone call.20 minutes later, my phone rang. The coordinator told me how to get to the location. 35 minutes to go.

I made it on time, and I had my clothes. I walk into the dressing room to find several nude and half nude women staring at me. Oops. Wrong changing room – or so I thought. The guys’ room was actually behind the room the women were in, so I had to walk through to get to my area. We all changed clothes and got ready for the show – which didn’t start until sixty minutes later. That was cool though, as it gave me a chance to cool down, since I had been rushing all day. Finally, it was time to come out. The girls went out first and we followed up. I hadn’t seen the crowd and didn’t know how they would react…I had butterflies in my stomach. It’s no different from competition though – I knew that as soon as I walked out, the jitters would be gone. I stepped out – whistling and cheering. So far, so good, even though I messed up on part of the entrance – they would never know as long as I could play it off. There were fewer of us, so we finished before the girls had time to finish changing. “Guys, we need you. “Change! Change! Change!”

We jumped into our next set of clothes only to be rushed back out to the runway, as we were going to act as place holders until the girls were ready. It was extremely fast paced, just like what you see on TV. I felt like I was on one of those shows, actually. It was great…until I got to swimwear. That was where I was supposed to shine. I had been told from the beginning that my main purpose was to give a show during the swimwear portion, and I fully intended to, until I tried my trunks on and realized they were way too small. D’oh! I couldn’t go shirtless, because I needed a long shirt to cover up the painted on swimming trunks. Overall though, the show went great, and very smoothly once it got started.

I must say, I have an entirely new respect for these guys and girls. It is MUCH harder than it looks from the outside. Even shopping is difficult when you are trying to find the perfect outfit while under the pressure of a deadline. I would love to do it again though. Maybe either Calvin Klein or Mark Ecko will get in touch with my people some day.