Crucial Minutia
it's the little things...
Courtney E. Martin
Book Tour Blog: Me and Vicky’s Girls
8 Comments | posted April 04th, 2007 at 03:29 pm by Courtney E. Martin

In case you weren’t sure, the world is officially full of gut-splitting ironies.

Victoria’s Secret ModelsI showed up at the Hotel Gansevoort, a fancy schmance hotel in the disgustingly trendy meatpacking district, for an interview and photo shoot with British magazine You. (Yes, you read that right, photo shoot; I was dumbfounded too.) They bought the first rights to publish an excerpt and an interview with me from my UK publisher, Piatkus.

The photojournalist and his assistant decided that the roof bar would be a great place to take shots of me. We rode the elevator up while making awkward small talk (or was that me and my internal voice wondering what the hell I was doing in a photo shoot?).

The elevator doors opened and we stepped out…right into a sea of giant models in bikinis and high heels. That’s right. Victoria Secret was doing a photo shoot at the exact same time in the exact same place.

While the photographers scooped out the best location, I jetted to the bathroom, hoping for a little sanctuary to take a deep breath, pee, and, maybe, laugh my ass off at God’s little joke of putting my first experience being photographed for my book on thin worship smack dab in the middle of a sea of the thinnest, tallest women I’d ever seen. But alas, the giants were gathered in a gaggle (what do you call a group of models?) in the bathroom amid their blow driers, giant make up bags, and clothing strewn everywhere.

They looked down at me as I walked in with surprise and bewilderment. What was this round, barely unclothed creature doing in their territory?

Peeing actually. Last time I checked that is what most people do in bathrooms.

The shoot was really uncomfortable, not because the photojournalist wasn’t kind or talented but because I am unaccustomed to smiling for an hour and 15 minutes at nothing. He thought the irony was too good to pass up, so he kept trying to covertly pose me in front of the models while they were doing ridiculous things.

At one point, he placed me at the edge of a pool where a few of them were sprawled and Access Hollywood, who was there to capture the models being captured, kicked us out. Apparently they sensed our BMIs were dangerously high.

When I finally escaped the land of the long-legged and Diet Coke-drinking, I called my parents and we all laughed our asses off as I searched for someplace where I could eat a big juicy burger and some fries.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 4th, 2007 at 3:29 pm and is filed under Court's Book Tour. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

There are currently 8 responses

  1. This story is so damn amazing. Thank you Universe for having a tremendous sense of humor!

    April 4th, 2007 | 4:34 pm
  2. And you say you were having to smile at nothing! Did he capture you smirking?

    April 4th, 2007 | 4:55 pm
  3. Joshua Alston

    Ha ha ha…this story is still funny the second time.

    April 4th, 2007 | 4:58 pm
  4. Kate Torgovnick

    Absolutely amazing. This is exactly how I use to feel at the Jane offices when a magazine was casting models for a swimsuit layout. I’d be walking to the kitchen to get a rice krispie treat and have to walk past a huge line of the toothpicks and their ribs in bikinis.

    April 4th, 2007 | 11:11 pm
  5. That’s too damn funny. Irony rules the world. And Victoria Secret models.

    April 5th, 2007 | 11:16 am
  6. bubbaj

    aahhh Irony, somehow you remain busier than Courtney Martin on Ritalin.

    April 6th, 2007 | 8:59 am
  7. Ramin

    Like 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife! Hallejuiah! Holla Back!

    April 6th, 2007 | 10:16 am
  8. WOW. First this, then Fox. hee-larious.

    April 7th, 2007 | 11:35 am

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