I'm talkin' about a little place called Model Lounge.
You can't help but say it sensually. Go ahead, try it. Whisper it if you're at work.
"Model Lounge."
You almost have to whisper it, right? Your lips roll and never smack together, your tongue playfully bounces off the front of your teeth when you hit the double L's. Model Lounge. It feels like doves should take flight as soon as you're done pronouncing it. Seriously, doves.
Doves.
The entire thing sounds like fiction, the beginning of an improv skit or plot point in another Zoolander. But it's not. It's real.
Here's how it describes itself for those who don't click the links in these posts (and if you don't, what the hell you're missing out!):
These "exclusive & associated privileges," I've discovered, include things like snacks, and pizza, and prizes. They recently gave away free Beats by Dre headphones to some lucky patrons. Like, just for being there. Apparently "modellounge" at some point in the history of American-English vernacular became a synonym for "heaven."
(Alternatively it may be spelled "Model Lounge," or "MODELLOUNGE," or...you know I don't even know what to capitalize here anymore. Or if you even use a "the" with it.)
The problem here is that I left out the last piece of the description I just posted. Which is this...
The Model Lounge is strictly for ladies.
Now, set aside for the moment that it's actually a dude who runs this gig, that he in effect becomes the only guy in a room populated exclusively by models, and that this in effect makes him either one of the most brilliant or creepy men on the planet.
(There could, of course, be male support staff or something as well, but I wouldn't know this given that I'm, ya know, not allowed in.)
The point here is that the Model Lounge is so locked down to girls that they don't even allow dudes on their Facebook page. It's basically a reversed, model-centric version of the Little Rascals' He-Man Woman Haters Club.
I clearly have a future career in Photoshop.
As if male models don't get shafted enough in this industry.
Let me clarify....THAT'S HYPERBOLE, that's hyperbole, that is hyperbole. I fully understand the silliness in complaining about male inequality in a workplace, and how opening up the Lounge to dudes would defeat the purpose of it being a safe haven for girls who get catcalled all day before they hop on the catwalk. Insert #prettypeopleproblems here, but sexual abuse/harassment in fashion isn't a joke, and providing a safe spot for these girls who tend to be ridiculously young is certainly a worthwhile endeavor.
It's just that...damnit it makes me jealous. I want to get in, at least once-- eat some gummy worms, maybe win a prize, explore the entire layout like I'm the male version of Lewis & Clark. Even though they were already, like, male and stuff.
Now before any model girls who read this rush to offer their services to get me in, keep in mind rumor has it that Coco Rocha dropped by with a guy and a girl once, and the guy was totally shut out. If Coco couldn't get a dude in there, I'm gonna need the god damn Batman or something.
Err, Catwoman I guess.
But still, I'm determined to do it. If I have to dress in drag, so be it.
(Did you like that little dilly where I just implied that anyone actually reads this thing? Oh, I slay me.)
