Revelation

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I was at set-up for a recent MOPS meeting when my friend, KK, announced that she's starting her own business, Fat Girl Cakes. KK took some cake decorating classes and her skills really took off. She brings a different creation to each meeting for the moms to sample: cupcakes, brownies, or beautifully iced cakes. She started joking that now she has a reason to "stay fat." If she loses weight, her business name could potentially be offensive to her clientele. Who wants to buy cakes from a skinny girl? Her cakes must not be that good if she's not eating any of them!

That's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. A revelation of sorts, if you will.

I could get paid to be fat! Oh, my dear gracious, it could work! I could totally ditch my plan to sign up as a contestant on The Biggest Loser, and just stay fat. Who needs good health when you've got pay checks rolling in for your rolls?!

Hmm...now what could I possibly be qualified for as a fat chick who needs to make some extra cash? I believe Pillsbury already has a mascot, although our skin tones are quite similar. Michelin Man promo? Taken.

Then I remembered my days as a child model. (I can hear my sister laughing hysterically through the computer screen. I hope that the Diet Coke you're drinking burns on its way out of your nose, Alison!)

That's it! I thought. I can totally be a plus-size model!

I've always been interested in fashion and make-up.

I got my start as a swimsuit model.

It wasn't until the tender age of four or five that my runway career began. I was invited to be a model in Leggett's (what is now Belk) *couture* Spring Fashion show. I remember going in for fittings, hating the petticoat they made me wear, and being envious of all the cool clothes the big girls got to wear when the Fashion Show night arrived.

Having only participated in professional, European photo shoots, I was unsure of how an American runway show would go. The show's director gave me some hurried directions.

"Turn right here, then exit left." I remember her saying.

The only problem was that I had no clue as to what "right" and "left" were. So when I made my way down the runway, I ad libbed by spinning around and doing a curtsy. This would have been completely acceptable in my swimsuit photoshoots, but apparently the director wasn't pleased. I remember the feeling of glee I had when the audience responded with an "awwww," but I was never again invited to another runway show.

That can be damaging to a model's ego.

So I decided to give it a go last Thursday and see if I still had it in me. We did a Fashion Show for MOPS..."what not to bring to a MOPS Yard Sale." I modeled a motorcycle helmet with a boxwood branch stuck in it (don't bring not-so-gently-treated sports gear), a Dolce bag with a broken strap, a box of expired Cheez-its, and a XXX DVD.

I worked that runway.

Emme, watch out!

Now if I can only find a way to get paid for not folding the laundry....

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