And, of course, my dear Russell Marsh: ‘Victoire, I knew you weren’t like the others and that you would give it up. That’s the whole difficulty of my profession: in this industry, you try to nurture elite models and then the following season, they want new girls. And when you meet one and you think, that one’s going to have a long career, she leaves. So what am I supposed to do?’
I kept their precious messages like little treasures to remind me that I really had experienced all that.
At the end of May, a few weeks after I came out of the clinic, Flo called to say that ‘everyone was waiting for me’ in New York in September. I told her that I weighed 69 kilos. She replied: ‘That’s not a problem. September’s three months away.’ I hung up, for the very last time.
My contracts expired in July and I received the final accounts, or rather the final list of deductions – that was when I realised what they really meant by ‘we advance your expenses’. All Seb’s taxis were on me. And the hairdresser, the smelly khaki jacket and the photo session with Sergei. And the walking lessons with Évelyne and the plane tickets. And the chauffeur-driven cars, Riccardo’s waiting time in Milan, the phone calls in all the countries, the hotels and the fruit platters. Even the printing of the books and comp cards. And then I found out that, with the exception of Céline and Vanessa Bruno, all those ‘gifts’ from the designers where they invited us to choose ‘for free’ from their stock at the end of the shows weren’t gifts at all but a one-off fee payment in kind.
Once all that had been deducted, as well as the commissions of various people, the final balance was quite something to behold: I’d probably earned several tens of thousands of euros, but the sum actually paid into my account was barely 10,000.
In September, instead of going to New York fashion week where ‘everyone was waiting for me’, I went to the Sorbonne to start a degree in philosophy. The following year I began studying at the Cours Florent and the year after that I moved to London to complete my degree in drama studies at Roehampton University.
I came to life again.
I partied, I acted, I made love, I worked on various projects, I made friends, I met a wonderful guy and I got my very first job, at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. And I became an adult, more or less.
And now, after finally following Kate Staddon’s advice and studying at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art, I’m more certain than ever that what I want to do is become an actress. I’m going to devote all my time and energies to making this lifelong dream come true.
Granddaddy is no longer with us and I think about him all the time. I miss him terribly every day. I still feel afraid, sometimes terribly afraid, just like he did. I think he spent his whole life being afraid.
I’m not cold any more and my periods have returned. I’m a lot less irritable and my brain is working much better since I’ve been nourishing it with more than just knowledge and theatre and literature. I’ve learned to my cost that for it to function well, it needs protein, vitamins, omega-3s and iron. In short, everything that offers it a balanced diet, without which it gradually loses all its faculties. Which doesn’t mean that my relationship with food is no longer difficult and complicated. I eat too much, or I don’t eat at all and then I eat too much all over again. I still need time, I think, but that’s not a problem.
I’ve got my whole life ahead of me.
Picture Section
My very first ‘pola’: lips open, chin down, concentrating on my look.
At my first meeting at Elite agency in Paris. I’ve just put pen to paper.
Too big to fit a size zero. I eat three apples a day to match the measurements on my comp card.
No sun for me. Designers want us as white as a blank canvas.
Back to polaroids for the castings. I’m improving my look, it’s starting to kill. Casting directors take pictures from all angles. Skinny jeans, white or black and body-tight, high heels and no make-up. No smile. Nothing more.
Arrived in my flat in Chelsea, New York. I’m 47 kilos at 5' 10", finally the right weight to be a real model.
My new life: 18 castings a day, running through NYC with my heels and a book in my bag.
Backstage at the shows we spend most of our time waiting. Make-up artists, hair stylists, dressers and assistants recreate everything on and around you.
And before it’s beautiful, it’s often painful.
Sitting in DKNY clothes, before the show started (strictly forbidden!). Photographers are invited backstage to take style pictures. It was impossible to stand in these shoes, even Donna Karan said it herself.
Doo.Ri show in NYC. Thanks to this picture, people online call me the Catwalk Yeti.
Complete change of style for Custo Barcelona, still in New York. Very loud music calls for a big, flamboyant walk.
Paris. At the end of the show we can risk a smile.
With Australian designer Colette Dinnigan at the closing of her show in Hôtel Maurice.
I now own the prized killer look of the Alexander McQueen show at the Musée de l’Homme in Paris. My brother Alexis is among the photographers.
Photographers waiting for us models at the end of the Vanessa Bruno show in Palais de Chaillot, Paris.
Waiting, waiting, waiting for the Miu Miu campaign in London.
Photoshoot for Lacoste. Even a size zero is too big for me now. I am disappearing.
Back to life in Regent’s Park, London. Studying, smiling, following my dreams.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Alexis, my kindred spirit, who makes the world look more beautiful to me.
Thank you to Léopold for his seasoned reader’s eye and his capacity to lend an ever kind and attentive ear.
Thank you to my angels, Naomi, Julia and Erwin. You are pure diamonds. I love you and you will always have a special place in my heart.
Thank you to the fairy Sabrina Philippe for helping me to rebuild my inner world.
Thank you to my lucky star Virginie Morgon who guides me through life in order to find my own way.
Thank you to my darling best friends, Romane and Alexandre, who support me and put up with me and know me inside out.
Thank you to my friends, on whom I rely so much and who contribute so much to my life: Paul, Lucille, Aliénor and Marie, Conlan, Guillaume, Sophie, Christian, Quentin, Larisa, Thomas and Marion.
Thank you to my uncle Gilles Dauxerre for his precious advice from a journalist’s perspective.
Thank you to Debbie Seymour, Robert Price and Colin Hurley who, as well as being wonderful drama teachers, are also genuine life mentors.
Thank you to Jean-Baptiste Bourrat who is at the origin of this book. You have restored my faith in people, you have changed my way of thinking. You have helped me to grow. You have changed my life. You are my godfather and a member of my family from now and for ever. Thank you a thousand times for being who you are and for being in my life.
Finally, thank you to the exceptions whom I will never forget: Russell Marsh, Bouba, Phillip Lim, Stephan Janson, Daniel Peddle, Phoebe Philo, Samuel Drira, Vanessa Bruno, Olivier Rizzo, Damien Blottière, Francesca, Céleste and Louise.
Some names have been changed, however all events are based on real instances in the fashion industry.
About the Author
At 17 years old, Victoire Dauxerre was scouted by Elite agency to become a model. She worked with the world’s leading designers before quitting to study at the Sorbonne, where she graduated in 2014 with a degree in Theatre and Performing Arts. Having completed her training at LAMDA, she is now an actress and currently lives in London.
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