Turning Down Easy Money: a Model’s Story

mannequin model formFor a few months during my senior year of college, I was a model.

Lately I’ve been receiving calls and emails from my agent. She wants me back in the fold.

And I’m saying no.

But before you start thinking that I’m a deluded egoist, allow me to explain. I was a model in the same way that chihuahuas are dogs— which is to say, barely. Welcome to the world of promotional modeling.

Promotional models are just professional flirts and greeters. They don’t even have to be particularly attractive (though it helps).

Promotional models (or “brand ambassadors”) go to an event or to a store to hawk a product about which they typically have little knowledge. Their goal is to engage passersby and potential customers to then hand off to a salesperson. Usually there is very little training involved, and the pay is decent for what amounts to unskilled, contractual labor. All in all, it’s an ideal part-time job for college students with unpredictable schedules.

I only worked a few events. My specialties were cell phone plans and fiber optic phone/cable/data service. Sexy, I know, but the events paid about $16 per hour after my agent’s commission, which was twice as much money as the highest-paying on-campus jobs. Flirting with moms beats shelving musty library books any way you slice it.

Other than the humiliating time I had to wear a computer game strapped to my chest, I enjoyed the work.

But things are different now. I’m not a student any longer. I have an honest-to-goodness 9 to 5, M-F. My weekends are more valuable to me than when I was in college. And $16 per hour doesn’t sound as tantalizing as it once did.

Am I crazy? I mean, every dollar counts right? The work is certainly brainless. But on the other hand, I have so many other projects I’d rather work on. I’ve got writing and coding for this blog, and I’d like to start another blog, too. And I’m thinking about starting to do some freelance web design work.

I think this is another case of me struggling to value my free time. Maybe I’d think differently if I wasn’t debt-free. (Thanks again Mom and Dad for the gift that keeps on giving— no student loans.)

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