It’s time to finally take the advice of Mom, your dental hygienist and that girl who had a crush on you in home room:
Parlay those leading-man looks into a modeling career!
Swagger, gentlemen. Projection. Attitude. That last bench press? All you, baby. You own that runway, that shoot in the Caymans.
One of Donna Baldwin’s functions is to pop such fantasies before they float into power lines. The “super” in “supermodel” is a prefix for “impossibly hot female”; the breed does not include men.
“Guys never make as much money or have as much success as women,” says the owner of Donna Baldwin Talent, also noting that there are no petite or plus-size male models.
In truth, most guys don’t dream of prancing down a New York runway or shilling watches that humble our credit lines. But some of us wonder if we could.
Statistically, the answer is a pretty firm no.
“One out of every thousand male models has a potential to make a living at this,” says Maximum Talent owner Rob Lail, echoing a sentiment similar to Baldwin’s. Later, he calls even that number optimistic.
My quick tour of male modeling begins among the exposed brick and youthful buzz of Baldwin’s agency, in the Highland neighborhood. It reminds me of my own, futile stab at modeling.
At 21, I mostly wanted enough money to shirk my patriotic duty of leaving college crippled by debt. That meant $200 for a modeling course, though guys apparently don’t need runway, makeup and holding-your-chin-earnestly-for-the-exorbitant-photos-you’re-coerced- into-buying classes.
“I can teach a guy runway in five minutes,” says Baldwin, later adding, “It’s more about being just comfortable and confident.”
A stylist, photos and photo cards for clients are required costs, she says. But this isn’t a finishing school: She’ll pinpoint needs, from capped teeth to a better haircut (no plastic surgery advice – not after one model’s nose job made her look worse). Yet the look, and the charisma that sells it, must be in place.
Baldwin, an agent for 22 years who started her namesake business in 1991, modeled in Las Vegas during a two-year span that included the Beatles’ arrival in America and JFK’s death. That’s about the only way to peg her age, obscured by a dark beauty and eyes made skeptical, perhaps, by years of witnessing wide-eyed hope and complacency.
“Men are naive. … ‘I could be working in New York,’ ” she says.
Lail’s outlook is similar to Baldwin’s, though he’s more willing to discuss costs and what models earn. To start, he steers aspiring models to one of three or four photographers, where they’ll pay $300-$400 for five photos that are listed on Maximum’s website.
“That’s all I want you to invest,” Lail says, before moneymaking potential is established.
He also dismisses the idea of agencies charging for classes. “The misconception is absolutely horrible. The agency should have no cost to the talent.”
Unlike Baldwin, he downplays the role of photo cards, which “are on their way out. Eighty percent of my work is over the Internet.”
So what can a male model make in small-market Denver? Lail provides a few examples: traipsing through Neiman Marcus in formal wear, $35-$60 an hour; a department-store fashion show, $200-$300 for three hours of work; print work for a catalog like Cabelas, $150 an hour for two to eight hours. The cover of Men’s Health will bag you $150 plus expenses – wide exposure more than compensating for the low pay.
Lail says most of his models work, but part time. Three of them travel nationwide and to Europe, pulling down $150,000 to $300,000 a year.
Plus, the industry tends to like ’em young: 17-18 for fashion, 18-25 overall.
As for Baldwin, what does it take to model?
First, you provide snapshots of your fine self being, ideally, 6 feet to 6-2. (“Sometimes 5-11 can do a little,” she says. “They have to be exceptionally photogenic.”) Next is a prescreening to see whether you possess that mix of charm and physicality that separates the moneymakers from “commercial,” or average, lookers. (Or attend an open call 2:30-3:30 p.m. each Wednesday.)
Even if the agency agrees to represent you, there’s no guarantee of ever working. “You don’t make money right away,” Baldwin says.
For the inevitable rejections, son and business partner Brad Baldwin wields a hatchet – of foam rubber.
“I always try to do it as nicely as possible,” he says. This means being impersonal: might be a matter of height, for instance, or the agency is overstocked in a certain look. “I never come out and just say your nose is too big.”
“You’re not a Simon Cowell,” Donna says, referring to the acerbic “American Idol” judge.
“I’m not a Simon Cowell. I take the Paula Abdul approach.”
The old heave-ho used to be Donna’s job. “She’s more blunt than I am,” Brad says.
“I try to explain to them,” she replies. “You’re the product. You’ve got to be perfect.”
Later, I test the nature of perfect: “So me coming with my 5-foot-10 is going to have little chance,” I say.
The skeptical eyes fix on me. “Yep.”
To drive home her point, Baldwin punches up “5-10” on the agency’s website and comes back with a mere six matches, most of them Hispanic – an ethnicity in demand, along with Asians.
“Could I pass for Hispanic?” I soon ask, feeling like prom night hangs in the balance.
Her eyebrows seem to arch. “Are you asking me to represent you?”
I don’t remember my response, just her first prescription: Fix the teeth and their unmodel-like gaps.
“You won’t do runway ever,” says Baldwin. “Nobody who’s 5-10 should ever expect to be earning a living as a model.”
Still, Baldwin says she would otherwise represent me, maybe for print work. “Can we promise you anything? No.”
And I probably can’t count on a $200 refund from that modeling school either.
Staff writer Vic Vogler can be reached at 303-820-1749 or vvogler@denverpost.com.
