One of the things we love most about MP is that we have so many opportunities to meet talented women, and feature them on Madison Plus. We are so pleased to introduce our newest guest blogger to join the MP family WCurve model Amanda Tice. We met Amanda at the F.A.M.E event a few weeks ago and she quickly won over our hearts! She will be blogging about all the wonderful adventures she has while being a plus model based in NYC.          - Aimee

It’s 8am in the morning. It’s raining. Quite frankly, I’m so nervous that I can barely see straight. I’m scanning the numbers on 23^rd street in Chelsea and I can’t find the address. My heart’s pounding, my legs are shaking, and my mind is racing. Not only that, but I’m pulling a suitcase full of random stuff – shoes, jeans, bras, lipsticks, and who knows what else. I stop, mid-block, take a deep breath, pull myself together and low and behold, I see the correct number fixated on a tiny doorway next to a huge Home Depot.

I’m here. I’m 30 minutes early…which everyone knows is way too early. Should I go in anyway? Should I wait in the rain? Should I call someone to kill time and then go in? I fiddle with my bag and my phone as a woman approaches the same doorway. She looks like she’s there for the same reason I am, so I think to myself “what the heck,” I’m going up there with her. At this point, I don’t care if I’m early because I need some time to calm my nerves anyway. We get into the elevator and make polite conversation before we reach the same floor. She looks at me and says, “Oh, are you the model today?” Listening to myself carefully, I say “Yes. I am.” – in what seems like slow motion. These words shock me. I can’t believe what I’m saying or hearing.

The door opens to a big studio full of busy bodies. Some are sitting around playing on their Blackberries and iPhones, others are scrutinizing over the lighting set-up, and a few are hovering over the catered breakfast table. What am I supposed to do? Do I introduce myself to everyone? Do I grab a plate and help myself to the aromatic apple wood smoked bacon? Do I sit on the couch in the entryway and pretend I have to read something really important on my phone? I find myself completely lost, freaked out, and hungry – all at the same time.

Truth is – I wasn’t supposed to be a model or at least, I wasn’t planning on it. I had lived in New York for two years trying to pursue another career path that didn’t propel me as far or as fast as I had hoped. When a friend suggested I get into modeling, I laughed (out loud). Let’s face it, I’m a size 10 and I’m 25 years old. From what I knew about modeling, that meant two things: I was too fat and too old.  The only thing that ever screamed model to me was the fact that I was 5’11. I would never call myself stylish, popular, or trendy. I’d be the first to tell you that I’m a Star Trek lover, a tomboy, and a University of Chicago graduate (note: the student body’s slogan is “Where Fun Comes to Die.”) So, the idea of modeling was hilarious to me. I mean, really, someone is going to pay me to take my picture? That’s ludicrous!

Anyhow, back to food…I mean, ummm, my first real photo shoot. I decided the best option was to politely say hello to everyone and then pretend I had something really important to read on my phone. I scanned through contact lists, read AP wire news updates, sent text messages to people I hadn’t talked to in months, and waited for something to happen or someone to talk to me. It was excruciating.

Finally, the makeup artist approached me.  She didn’t look how I expected. She was a downright biker chick with a butch haircut and frumpy breakaway pants from the 80′s. She told me about her plans to do some mountain biking race in France and how she filled her studio apartment with bikes instead of furniture. I couldn’t help but think – “Oh my God, this woman is going to do my makeup? Seriously?”

She asked me to sit down on a stool next to the breakfast (all I wanted was to take a plate of bacon, potatoes, and eggs…) where she had set up her beauty “tools.” She lathered on some moisturizer and foundation before beginning to put on a creamy eye shadow. She poked my eyelid with the brush and my eyes began to water — uncontrollably. My contact lens began to itch and I couldn’t see out of my left eye. This time I was going to have to say something. I needed contact solution right away. She looked at me shocked and said, “Are you ok?” I said, “Yes…but actually, I think I’m going to need to run to the drug store.” She was speechless as I hopped off the stool, ran to the doorway, and hurriedly whispered, “Be right back! Sorry!”

When I returned, she rushed me back to the stool and immediately started removing the eye makeup I had cried off. I prayed that she wouldn’t yell at me and that I hadn’t already made a bad impression! She calmed down after a few minutes, warmed up to me again after I told her I had a dog, and finished my makeup and hair within about 45 minutes.

I sat down at the long rectangular table with the entire staff (photographer, art directors, editors, production manager, etc.) What would I say? What would they ask me? Would word come out of my mouth? I was so riddled with fear and nervous about the shoot that all of their words seemed to be mashed together. I know I said something about being from Hawaii and the fact that I was with Wilhelmina, but the rest of the conversation was a complete blur. I do remember though that the chips were quite crispy and the sandwich I chose had a delicious aioli spread on it.

It was time. The lights were set up and the camera was in place. They handed me the t-shirt to change into. The writing on the plain white tee seemed bizarrely too perfect for me. It read “Overeaters Anonymous” in large blue print.  In my head, I couldn’t stop laughing. This was me. I was the Overeater (but truth is, it wasn’t anonymous – especially after the lunch I had just devoured in front of everyone).  I did, however, feel comforted by the fact that the editorial I was shooting was for Oprah Magazine in their body wise section. The quiz: “which diet suits your personality best?” I checked the rack of shirts placed against the wall and sure enough, I wasn’t just going to be “Overeaters Anonymous” today. I was also going to be “Atkins Diet,” “South Beach,” and some other diet I had never heard of.

I slipped into the bathroom, threw on the t-shirt, straightened my jeans, and spoofed up my hair. I looked in the mirror and thought to myself, “I can’t believe this is really happening. I’m really doing a photo shoot. These people are counting on ME. I can’t cry. I have to be confident. This is it. This is my moment to shine.” I took a deep breath, straightened my shoulders, and confidently walked onto the set.

I stood in the middle of the set-up, directly on top of the black X marked on the floor. The lights were hot (and it felt like my makeup was going to melt right off of my face). My hair stuck to the goopy gloss coating my lips.  I swept the hair out of my face and the makeup artist came at me with a large brush to powder my face before the shooting began.  Everyone was looking at me. The art director stared at me intently before moving around the clothing racks behind me.  It was obvious that it had to be perfectly positioned and each one of the diet names prominently displayed on every one of the crisp white t-shirts.

Although I was nervous (and of course, inadvertently sweating), I started to get the hang of it. Every time the camera made the loud beep, it was my turn to change my pose. Each pose needed to be different, but all along the lines of “which diet am I?” It was totally like acting. I imagined myself being on the Atkins diet – being full of eggs, cheese, meat, and pork rinds. That one got a frown/concerned face. Then, I imagined myself on the South Beach diet – which I knew included fruit and yummy pre-made meals from the grocery store. That one got a smile AND an approving point. It all felt like a game. It felt like I was having fun.  I was shocked. How could this really be so much fun with so much pressure and so much money riding on it?

In that moment, I felt lucky. It was a complete epiphany. I thought to myself, “Now, this is a way to make a living.”

To find out more about Amanda visit her website Amanda Tice and follow her on Twitter.