Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Save the models!

Because I have a knack for spotting a shadow of evil in a ray of good: Apparently Premier Model Management in London created a "Model Safety Pack" for the crop of young foreign girls who are working London fashion week for the first time. It contains tips for travelling safely through the city [ya, don't take a cab or you'll have to sell your body to pay the metre fare], emergency address and contact details [how long until some poor Brazilian girl realizes The Hospital is actually a private members-only club in Covent Garden?], and a phone with a pay-as-you-go SIM card [presumably there's no money on the SIM card. So, uh, thanks]. reports that the girls were given a base in central London, provided with nutritious meals and a 24-hour helpline manned by Premier staff to ensure their week went without a hitch.

Here's what I imagine to be a sample helpline phone call:

Premier Helpline: 'ello 'ello

Confused Model: I am lost. I come for meeting with designer and cannot find office.

PH: Right, what you need to do is trot down to Bumrush Road until you hit Cockfosters. Go to the Tit's Nips and ask for Dick, e's my best china. Tell him to give you some judy and punch. He'll probably throw in an oily rag if you're a good ribbon and curl. But whatever you do don't soil your baked beans!

CM: But.... I..... Uh..... What?

PH: Don't. Soil. Your. Baked. Beans. You know what they say, love, how can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat?

CM: But I'm not hungry.

PH: Oi, we're all hungry for a little gay and frisky every now and again, love.

CM: I am gay?

PH: Eyes of blue.

CM: O, Cristo!


  1. I'm offended by this loathsome, hate-filled and very thinly-veiled attack on on my city. London gave the world fish and chips, what did Canada give us? Ice hockey? Celine Dion?

    It might be expensive, and impossible to navigate, and unable to handle more than 6cm of snow, and run a Victorian-era train system, but dammit, it works. Its full of charm. And models who don't speak English and need directions.

    Call me skeptical (its OK I called you loathsome and hate-filled), but I think I sense a tinge of regret that your stay in London was somewhat short-lived. Europe is where its at.