After ten years of going to model castings as a big and tall model, I can say with authority that nine out of ten of them go the same way. I enter a faux industrial building, designed to look like an old factory, usually called something like “The Factory”, with concrete floors and exposed steel girders, but also a vegan bakery and a Chipotlefied ethnic food concept, Halal, Caribbean, Korean, but as a build your own “Seoul Bowl” or “Curry Canoe”.
Once I find the right studio, I stand outside the glass doors and wave until the receptionist buzzes me in. I am tall, bearded, and within spitting distance of three hundred pounds, so my first task is to convince reception that I am indeed, in the right place, yes for this casting, as a model, yes.
The first time I ever went to a casting, I walked into the waiting area to hear someone yell,
“Oh thank god you made it!”
I had recently received a ton of press being the first plus sized male model signed to a modeling agency, and had even done an interview of Good Morning America the day before, I blushed at what I thought was recognition and flattery until the nineteen year old working the front desk then continued,
“Donna the electrician is here!”
I was in what I thought was the most fashionable outfit I owned. Dark wash skinny jeans, bright white Air Force 1’s, a red buffalo plaid flannel that was fitted but just loose enough to hide my belly, and a denim trucker jacket. This was 2015 and the style of Lumbersexual, or sexy metro lumberjack, was very in.
“I’m here for the casting actually”
“That’s hilarious!” said the nineteen year old, then who I assumed was Donna walked in.
“Thank you so much for coming, the panel is right this way” she said and beckoned me to follow. Assuming she meant casting panel, or panel of judges, I followed her, not without shooting the front desk girl a “see, I told you so” look.
We strode down the hallway, passing white box studios, filled with the flash of strobe lights, and merchandise rooms filled with racks upon racks of designer clothing, until we reached a breaker box on a bare piece of drywall.
“We really need this upgraded, I don’t know who was in this office before, but every time we run more than one strobe in the studio, we trip a breaker”
In Donna’s defense as soon as I told her my name she apologized profusely. She was embarrassed, and so was I, especially since I threw a few of the breaker switches on and off, causing chaos in a room next door, before telling her I really wasn’t the electrician, and I really was there for a casting.
Ten Years later and 50+ international campaigns under my belt, I am still trying to convince the nineteen year old interns running the sign in, that I am indeed a model, here for a casting, yes this casting.
Plus size male models are still niche in the industry, and unless the go-see (another fancy fashion word for casting/audition), is specifically for a big and tall store, I’m usually the only big guy there. Apparently, I’m now the old guy too.
At the casting I went to today, the other guys in the waiting room were 20 and 22, and one was wearing a mesh shirt. The wind chill in NYC was four degrees. Small talk always includes asking which agency each other is with, and casual mentions of past jobs and clients, trying to establish how legit or seasoned the competition is. Being the fat guy in the room, I’m more a curiosity than competition, so we joke and shoot the shit, me dropping little nuggets of wisdom for the newer models, like a gorilla sized yoda, until my name is called.
When I began modeling, you had to bring your Book to every casting. This was a coffee table sized portfolio with your most artsy pictures blown up and laminated so the client could get an idea of what your modeling is like. This is all digital now, but I still bring mine, which always delights the casting director. They do still often ask for your comp-card, which is a 7x5 photo of yourself with stats like height, weight, and social media handle. This is so they can later pin it dramatically to a cork board in the back while making their final decisions.
I walked in as usual, cracking jokes, trying to seem charming, saying hey to the people I recognized, but whose names I definitely did not remember. Someone is usually on the phone, but they get you started anyway. After taking a quick front, back, and side shot, I am sent over to the stylist to try on some clothes. This was my third or fourth time casting for this particular client, and on my last visits, as is often the case for big and tall, they didn’t have any samples that fit me. Today I was pleasantly surprised that they had not one, but two outfits my size to try on.
“There’s a changing room if you care,” said the stylist, gesturing to the makeshift privacy barrier made of two v-fold styrofoam boards set up overlapping one another. I loved that he said “If you care”. There is an unwritten rule in modeling, at least in male modeling, that you are welcome to change in private, but it will drastically slow down production on high volume days, and it’s likely everyone there will end up seeing you naked at one point anyway. You can often tell how veteran someone is in the industry based on how quickly they drop their pants in public.
“I’m good,” I said, pants already down at my ankles. Super veteran.
Once I finished putting samples on I headed back out to set and find my mark.
“So what are we going for?” I ask the photographer. They usually say something like, just be natural, but that’s not what they want. My natural posture and expression is two steps away from a mountain troll, but I am also a classically trained actor, so I can pretend to be natural in any way you want.
“ Oh you know it’s INSERT NAME OF DESIGNER. So cool, but not too cool, approachable but distant. Casual, but high end. Aloof, but also focused. Determined yet carefree.”
“Got it,” I said. I didn’t got it, “So..?”
“No smiles, mostly to camera, and when you put your hand in your pocket, make sure it’s your whole hand, not thumbs out.”
“Got it,” I did got it.
Want a real deal pro tip for getting photographed. Here is the key to taking a good picture. This works for everyone, I promise. Whether you’re a seasoned professional model, someone trying to take a decent shot for their LinkedIn, or someone just trying not to hate their next family photo. When the photographer starts shooting, think of something, ANYTHING at all. Most people lock up and their mind goes blank as soon as they see a photo. As long as you have any thought at all in your pretty little head, there will be life behind your eyes. You can think of family, food, friends, football, fairies, fishing, finance, Frasier, Family Feud or the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, as long as you are thinking of SOMETHING you will look bright, engaged and intriguing on film. Having come from the Stanislavsky school of acting, visualization and emotional recall came easy to me, and I credit it almost fully with my success in the fashion world.
“Alright, thank you!” Said the casting director without looking up from her computer. Thank you is almost always a dismissal. I went back and got changed before poking my head into the room one last time to say thanks and wave goodbye. The whole thing took less than five minutes. Once I was back into my own clothes I headed down the elevator then back into the windy New York City streets and started scoping the surrounding blocks for a little treat. I deserved it after all. I hadn’t eaten breakfast and had eaten very little the night before, always imagining that one more bite of food would be the one to prevent the sample pants from buttoning. Even the big boys spend their whole careers worried about their waist.
My favorite treat combo is doing the High/Low thing with two different shops. Today it was an Oat Milk Cortado from the fancy French place with $10 pastries, then I went to the bodega next door and paired it with a chopped cheese on a hard roll.
Sometimes it’s different. Sometimes you’re treated like a celebrity. Assistants bring you sparkling water, the designer themselves comes in and thanks you for traveling all this way for their little label.
Sometimes they scream at you, tell you you've wasted their time, that you’re disgusting and they only called you in as a favor to someone more important than you.
One time the brand didn’t even know I’d been asked to come in, so instead of trying on clothes and taking pictures they offered me a beer and we talked about game of thrones for an hour. I actually ended up booking that one.
Modeling is no different than any other job in the creative industry. Whether you’re an artist, actor, musician, singer, model, creator, composer or writer, you will almost always spend more time trying to get people to look at your work, to give you a chance, than you ever spent actually doing the art. But hey, that’s showbiz.
I thought I had the market cornered on creative names that were also a play on words but I recently met someone who's last name was Schauer and his IG was Golden Schauer, and now Zach and Bean Stalk. Solid.
This was a pleasure to read. Thank you for being so real and talking about your experience. Sounds like there's still so much work to move the needle.
Really enjoyed reading this. ✨