The worst conversation one can ever have in the world is a conversation with an ex model who has became a bum or a hobo.
I was just walking out of the Chanel HQ the other day when this homeless ex model came up to me; with cracked makeup and mascara down her checks; like she hadn't taken the makeup off since her last fashion show 20 years ago.
"I used to be a model, you know."
"Oh, for who?"
"I was a- city model"
"Yeah. I dressed up and modelled around the city."
"Dear, that's what most fashion people do."
"I modelled for Kmart, too, you know."
"Yeah! Do you want to take a look at my portfolio?"
And she takes out this book of children's drawings- stick figures and so on with her head pasted to the tops of the stick figures.
"This is me for Yves Saint Laurent, and this is me for uh; what's the one with the C logos called?"
"Yeah, this is me for Chanel".
"You know, I do Chanel", I say.
"Ooh, this was done when Mister Dior ran the place."
She got out a weight loss pill and popped it into her mouth; and dropped to the ground and snored. There's quite of few homeless ex models around Paris. It's tragic, non? They can't help being demode. Maybe we should hold a dinner for them or something.