If you had asked me, a couple of months ago, what I thought of models and modeling, my response would have been to sneer.

Models were those vacuous, anorexic, self-absorbed girls whose only claim to fame was the ability to cake chemicals on their faces and strut down a runway, secure in the belief that the world revolved around them.

I have long been an avid photographer. For more years than I care to remember, I have been snapping pictures and enjoying myself immensely, completely unaware that there were rules and guides for what a photograph should be.

That blissful ignorance evaporated one day when this really nice couple offered to pay me. They were going to buy me plane tickets to fly to New York, get me a hotel and pay me to take pictures of their wedding.

I was struck dumb and was instantly unsure of myself, my skill with a camera and my ability to deliver. I balked, I hemmed and hawed and stuttered. I ran away! See, as much as I enjoyed photography, I didn’t have the confidence in my skill and was not about to subject these people to sub-standard photographs on such an important occasion!

This did give me the impetus I needed to look seriously at the photographs I had taken, compare them to the shots taken by real photographers and see all the areas in which improvement would need to be made. This started me on a self-improvement jag that took me to areas I never imagined I would even consider.

Model photography.

Now we are back where we started! To get my feet wet, I put an ad in the local Craigslist, asking for models. This ad, and the experiences that followed, opened my eyes.

See, everyone has an inner model.

I know, that is a silly generalization, but I am convinced it is true. People are narcissistic, they crave approval or recognition or just want someone to notice them. Housewives, college students, cashiers and lawyers, they all want to be someone people point to.

My challenge was looking past the exterior and trying to find a way to photograph that self-image, that dream, and put it out there for them in a way they would recognize. I didn’t have to turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse or a grocery bagger into a super model, I only had to make them feel like one, even if only for a moment.

I had to adjust my views, polish my skills and open my eyes to new possibilities. I had to change the way I interacted with people and develop empathy — not a strength of mine — in order to make this work.

Much to my surprise, I found that I was enjoying the challenge. Before I started, the whole thought of catering to some housewife’s fantasy would have made me roll my eyes and laugh at the thought. I am fascinated at the prospect of  drawing out people’s dreams and hopes, of helping them, even ever so briefly, realize that dream.

Don’t get me wrong, I have not metamorphosed into some metrosexual, star-struck fashion fetishist. I still think that many of the super models are ridiculous caricatures of humanity and an unhealthy example for today’s youth, but under that blanket condemnation of the whole industry is a kernel of understanding for what drives the models.

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