Finale Of Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show And Your’s Truly

The competition consisted of two rounds.

Round One : Wear a bikini.

No thongs allowed or those crazy one piece things that look like dental floss connecting strategically placed postage stamps. The bikini had to have at least moderate coverage of the ass so that meant Rio and Brazil cuts were out.

Round Two : Cocktail dress.

This was anything goes. I saw a girl walk wearing a piece of lingerie from Frederick’s Of Hollywood. I was thinking of going with that one but I didn’t think “lingerie” and “cocktail dress” were one and the same. Silly me. Not that mine was much better. It was slit UpToThere and the “skirt” consisted of really long fringe. Hey, I got it at a boutique store and not a store that sells underwear so I considered it cocktail gear.

Practice makes perfect.
Yes, that’s me.
I was focusing on Keeping It Together and Not Falling Down.

Getting the clothes/bikini ready wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was getting ready and I’m not talking about makeup because I got that part DOWN!

The hardest part was owning that bar l like I pwned it and it was my little bitch. You have to understand. Most bar counters aren’t that wide to begin with so maybe it’s the land shortage in SF or something (hell, I’ve no idea) but that fucking thing I was walking on isn’t as wide as a normal catwalk. It was a sheer logistical nightmare when it was dry during our practice run but I was already thinking ahead like a bartender.

That bar counter’s gonna be wet with spilled liquor. And I’m gonna hafta walk on that thing while wearing killer shoes. At this point, I’m just praying my killer shoes won’t be living up to the “killer” part because that would sooo suck.

Luckily, I made it through our practice runs without falling splat on my face. And then the real fun began.

Makeup and hair was done but the makeup artist now faced a huge challenge and that was to give me the illusion of a tan. As you can see from the first photo on the last post, it wasn’t exactly FTW. What’s even more sad is that this was the darkest she could get me to be after emptying entire cans of InstaTan on me. I’m not kidding about having a mutant power that thwarts all attempts to be any other color besides Pasty White.

The hard part was not fainting or throwing up.

You don’t understand. Backstage, it is sheer insanity. There’s half naked and fully naked girls running around with hair and makeup chasing us down waving HOT curling irons and brushes loaded with powder. If I’m the one they’re chasing, they’re waving bronzing powder and cans of instant tan.

In the business end of the lounge, the DJs are spinning, music is bumping and the MC’s on the mic. Backstage, they’ve finally managed to herd us all together and put us in order.

The lights are burning bright and all eyes are on you. It was summer in SF but the breeze coming through the open doors froze me to death. You have to understand. I’m wearing nothing but a bikini in a city where it’s ALWAYS FREAKING COLD! I hear my name being called, the handler makes sure I don’t break my neck going up those steel steps that leads up to the walkway and with a final whispered “Break a leg, sweetheart”, I’m up.

You know what’s weird? All the anxiety and OMFGWTF moments were all gone once those big ass floodlights were shining in my face. That watery smile I barely managed to find turned into a megawatt grin and I started to walk. I never once looked down and I sashayed my way to the center, stopped for the cameras flashing and the news crews filming, cocked a hip, posed left-center-right, turned and sauntered off.

Lather, rinse and repeat for the Cocktail Gown portion and the naming of the winners going on to the next round.

Me and the girls from Week One smiling for the news people and chattering away to the local news people yelling questions at us in front of humangous Hummer Limo.

Holy f*cking sh!t, I was so cold.

I didn’t win that night. The three women who won were pre-chosen to win. One knew the judges, the other knew the people at HBO who were there that night and the other was handpicked beforehand by the coordinator.

I found out later I would’ve won that night and advanced to the next round had I entered the week after like I was supposed to. Summer school exam schedules made that impossible but it’s okay. It was an experience I’ll never forget. I was okay with it because all the women who won that night were all beautiful and they took it way more seriously than I did. I was too busy cracking up and trying to count how many bottles Make Up went through before they finally gave up on trying to make me look “naturally” tanned.

Good times, good times. Not bad for my first trip up to the Bay Area.

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