Chances are, if you're my friend or have anything in common with me at all, you didn't pick up the July issue of Clin d'oeil – Quebec's premier French-language fashion magazine. And you definitely wouldn't have read the article on horoscopes, fortune-telling and dating – the one I'm in.
To readers of the magazine, I'm just another pretty face. Just another woman turning to the stars for reassurance that her next boyfriend won't be deceitful, controlling, unfaithful, crude, inconsiderate, selfish or homosexual, like the last one.They'll commiserate with this image of me, and join the ranks of what French-Canadians apparently call ésotérico-girly girls. You know, women with more faith in tarot cards, dice, clairvoyants and Rob Breszny's Free Will Astrology than their own instinct – the kind of women you'd never want to date.
Ahem.
While I didn't have anything to do with the actual content of the article, I'm its mascot. The illustrator commissioned for the feature, a close friend, asked if I'd be willing to pose as a reference model, so he could draw me. All I had to do was drink tea, play with props, and feign excitement and wonder at dating in the New Age. Feign excitement and wonder at dating? I've certainly done that before. This time I'll get something out of it, I thought, and volunteered for my own selfish reasons.
Firstly, although I was only slightly more qualified for the task than the standard wooden drawing figure, by virtue of having eyes and hands – I just wanted to be able to say, "Yeah, I've modelled." But mostly, I wanted to see myself through someone else's eyes.
My friend showed me some of the sketches before they were approved for print – over beer on his balcony, back when the world was sunny and warm – but it wasn't until yesterday, when I met him to say good-bye before I leave for London, did I remember to ask for a copy of the magazine.
And here I am, as he drew me. In the illustrations, I'm pretty. My nose seems smaller. My boobs seems bigger. And it seems I'd be willing to do anything for love.
In twenty days, I'm boarding a plane to Heathrow to be with a man I met via Facebook. So, if nothing else, at least that last part is true.
