Hey, there! For those not in the know, I am Ossiana Tepfenhart. I’m a journalist, a future college student, a former model agency booker/assistant, a fashion model, and yes, an adult entertainer using their spicy content to pay for student bills.

What I’m saying is that I know how to write and I also have been in the modeling industry for the better part of my ENTIRE adult life. Modeling, whether beauty, fashion, hair, runway, or X-rated, is a major passion of mine. 

I love being a model. I love model culture. When I was 18 through 23, I was neck-deep in it. I was making an actual living doing it before I became a freelance writer. 

For a brief period of time, I worked at a non-profit known as D.A.N.I. House — for “Dreams Are Never Impossible.” It was a special organization in Paterson, New Jersey, that was spearheaded by a beautiful, loving woman known as Tawanda Bell. 

Tawanda was a top plus-sized model who was represented by Wilhelmina. She wanted troubled youth in Paterson to see a light at the end of the tunnel. So, she got professionals in dance, rap, acting, and modeling to band together and teach kids the skills they need to potentially make a big break. 

I was the modeling instructor. Or rather, I was the modeling instructor alongside her because her ability to slay a catwalk put my own skills to shame. (Besides, I still suck at my left turns to this day.)

I saw some stuff there, stuff that changed me as a person. I saw myself in so many of the people in that building. I saw people working harder than ever to get to their dreams, chasing their passions with all their might. 

I saw kids who spent the night sleeping there because they were afraid to go home. I saw a small gaggle of them collectively adopt a puppy. I saw major confidence breakthroughs — not only in children, but in adults as well. 

I saw Tawanda, at one point, book a surprise visit from a supermodel to the House. It was a beautiful, moving place.

Oh, and I also met some of the people who worked for America’s Next Top Model there. I met Christian and actually worked with him for a couple of days on a model scout type of deal. I had a great time with them. 

So, I wanted to see what people had to say about America’s Next Top Model. It hit close to home for me because I can attach memories to those faces. 

I have a lot to say about this docuseries, both good and bad.

So, anyone who has been a model in the 2000s knows it was a meatgrinder. I got my start on Craigslist and Model Mayhem, which meant that I had to meet up with total strangers, hope I don’t get assaulted/killed, and take photos. You had to work, work, work, work and network to get those connections.

If you had the right look, got a shoot with the right person, or linked up with a model scout, you were good to go. I ought to know. I helped do bookings and submissions for a couple of smaller agencies. Until then, the pay was pennies and you had to advocate for yourself 24/7.

One thing I can say was accurate, at least at the beginning, is that Tyra Banks did make an accurate documentary of what life was like as a model back then:

I, along with almost every single long-term professional model I know, experienced these things either firsthand or watched their colleagues deal with it. It was a brutal industry, and yet, we did it because we loved it. 

There’s a certain deep, unspoken understanding that models give one another. Call it trauma bonding or call it something weirder, but there are a lot of us who are deeply dedicated to our art. 

Everyone is talking about how badly the models were treated, but I’ll be honest. That wasn’t maltreatment by Tyra. That was just how the industry was. It was brutal and the only models I ever saw that stayed in long term were the ones that were really, truly passionate about what they did.

I mean, it’s what made it all worth it.

Do I think Tyra fully prepared those models for “the real world?” Fuck no. They were naive, starry-eyed little puppies. Most of them would have recoiled in horror with a photo shoot with the likes of Uncle Terry. 

Many of them, had they known what they’d have signed up for, would have never even considered being a model. Even if you had an agency that protected you from assault (which was sometimes a thing for women, but not for men), you don’t realize what some people have to give up to stay in the industry.

If you’ve ever read some of the Epstein files, you’ll realize something about this industry. Back in the day, a lot of modeling agencies had horrible, horrible secrets. Some were straight-up sex trafficking fronts — as we now all know. 

Do I think these girls were talented? Absolutely. 

But I think most of them would have buckled if they had to go to a cattle call with real agents, particularly for an agency like Ford and gotten a “light critique.” Those agents would have torn them to pieces, and those girls wouldn’t have even realized that the way those agents would have laid into them was actually a sign that they liked them.

People really laid into the ANTM crew about how they discussed women’s bodies. While it’s fucked that they said that shit, people don’t understand that they were just being honest. The standards for models in the 2000s were fucking insane. 

When Tyra Banks said that she was letting those models walk on the show so others could run, she was right. I remember photographers and other bookers telling me, “Look, Ossiana, I get that you want to push these models, but no one wants black women on magazines!”

Being a minority and a model was already difficult, but then you have to add in sizing. This fucked up everyone, aside from those of us who had hyperthyroidism — a surprisingly common disease in elite modeling groups.

At my lowest weight, I was about 60 pounds lighter than I am right now. I’m going to show you a photo I took of my current figure, no special effects. 

In my photos, I looked a little twiggy. In real life, people called me skeletal. And I was still being told I was not thin enough. At my lowest, I was a 00/size 13 children’s. Think about that. I was still not thin enough. 

Fit models, who are the models that the clothes are made based on, are a typical size 2–4. Runway models were size 0 almost entirely across the board, and the minimum height was 5'9. I was very short for that field.

The industry had these standards so that the clothes moved well and looked well at almost all angles. In reality, no one really looks like that. Most of us runway girls were tall, knock-kneed and a little awkward IRL. 

Thin wasn’t just “in.” It was mandatory.

Oh, and do you know what size “plus size” models started at? 

Six. 

Size 6. That was the start of “Plus” models in the 2000s. 

People do not realize this at all, but when Tyra Banks put on actual plus-sized models and women of color, it was a huge deal. It actually did open up the doors and get people talking about inclusivity and realism in the modeling world.

Realistically speaking, if most of those women went to Ford or INC at a cattle call, they wouldn’t have even gotten a greeting from an agent. ANTM scandalized the modeling world by having that much representation — a fact often glossed over by outsiders.

I actually considered entering the competition. I didn’t. Industry professionals warned me against applying. I later found out, in the actual documentary, that ANTM was not viewed as “real” modeling and that many firms would see winners as unsellable. 

The documentary also showed the way they spiced it up with Fear Factor-style challenges, many of which ended up inspiring other photographers to try to do the same. Reality Check was real when they said that women got blackballed because of their participation. 

Was this fair to the girls? No. Did Tyra know this would happen? I don’t know. I can’t make that call because it’s hard to figure out what people were thinking back in the day.

Tyra also had to deal with a lot of shit after she fired her three main judges and assistants. But, that was the industry back then. If you don’t play by the rules, you don’t get to do business. And business is just that: business.

I really wish that Tyra had sat down with the winners and explained to them what to expect as an elite model. I wish that they had touched on the Epstein case and how many models (including child models) had to fuck their way to the top. 

But, more importantly, I wish they could have given Tyra and the staffers a better way to defend themselves. We’re judging them in 2020 standards for 2001 behavior. They’re beautiful people. They bring beauty to the world. They did something massive, absolutely massive, for representation. 

And I don’t think they were treated fairly by the documentary. 

Only now, in 2020, am I seeing most models stand up for themselves. Only now am I starting to see awareness about the abuse that models go through, the mental health issues that come with it, and more. Only now is modeling becoming a more viable life option for most women.

Modeling, particularly fashion modeling, is a cruel, cruel world. It’s always been cruel about body image. And while it’s easy to point the finger and screech about how awful these people are, it’s unfortunately the way the game was played. 

America’s Next Top Model was a reflection of the time, especially with body standards. The standards were there because that’s what designers and magazine editors wanted to have. If you didn’t look the part, you didn’t make money. Touchups were pricey, so you really had to find a perfect girl.

It’s easy to call this gaslighting, but it’s the truth. The truth hurts. Modeling is a brutal industry and it’s one that is a labor of passion and love more than it is a labor for money. 

Did it change? Kind of, for the better, but at the end of the day, the undertones are still there for all to see. Elite models and fashion models are still skinny as ever, and runways are still mostly filled with tall, lanky people. 

But models? We do it for the art. We do it for the content. And more importantly? We do it for that brief moment where we, in our entirety, become the being of the beautiful. And that’s what makes it worth it.