Then there are models who only work under the lights—the girls who get photographed. Some of them you recognize immediately; their pictures are everywhere. Others, whom you never hear of and hardly ever see, only make enough to scrape along. A photography model is paid only for the number of hours she works, and some only work a few hours each month.

Furthermore, a photography model has a lot of expenses. She has to have a supply of accessories which may be required by her bookings: such items as high-heeled pumps, low-heeled shoes, play shoes, hats, all kinds of gloves. She also has to be responsible for her cosmetics, lipstick, powder, etc., as well as always coming to any job with her hair meticulously groomed. The reason that the hatbox has become a symbol of modeling is that so many models use it to carry all this paraphernalia. A model without her equipment is in just about the same position as a photographer without a camera.

There's another kind of equipment that a model must have, and it's intangible—stamina. It takes stamina to stand for hours posing under hot lights in sometimes uncomfortable positions. It takes stamina to rush from one job to another without any time between for a breather. It also takes stamina to keep to a beauty regimen that will guarantee success.

How do you get to be a model? I got to be one by being one. I learned by watching other models, by studying poses in pictures, by trying out new ideas of my own. I learned by listening to the criticism of photographers and editors and by profiting by it. Many models use this system.

Many also have some sort of training that teaches grace, such as ballet or dance. Grace is a number-one requirement of a model. A beautiful girl, if she is awkward, is a failure as a model. Training is not a requirement, however. I find that many models have never been near a modeling school. They model well because they learned by doing.

Also, it must be remembered that a modeling school cannot guarantee you success as a model. There are too many graduates of such schools ever to place them all in jobs. All that a modeling school can teach is the fundamental facts of good grooming, graceful movement and a bit of the jargon of the business. From then on you are on your own.

Any girl, model school graduate or no, starts out the same way. She goes to a reputable model agency and asks to be taken on. The agency—if they think that she has the stuff—will ask to see pictures (snapshots will do), and will then send the prospective model off on a tour of photographers and fashion editors. If after the tour some of them call the agency to book her for a job, a career is under way. If not, there's not much to be done about it. Signing with an agency will not get you a job. All the agency can do is to take your bookings for you, arrange your schedule, send out your bills, and finally take a cut of your earnings to pay for its services.

Some models do their own booking, but that is difficult to manage. It means that they must have someone to answer their telephone at all hours, an expensive luxury. They must also make out their own bills and see to it that they are paid.

Most models prefer to have an agency handle the details for them. But they must always remember that the agency's function is to take care of their bookkeeping, not to provide them with jobs.

You see, there are a lot of obstacles in the way of becoming a successful model—unsteady pay, fickle fashion (one's face or figure may go out of style overnight), and stiff competition. If you have the makings of a model—thin figure, good bone structure, and grit—then you may get to the top. There are many who would rather not try, and I, for one, don't blame them.

In spite of all the discouraging things I have told you, if your heart is set on trying, then go ahead and try. Just make sure your heart is not overruling your head. Make sure you know what you're doing—and good luck.

"It's a date."

"See you at eight then."

It's as easy as that. You're all set. You're going out to have fun, see a show or drop in to dance somewhere. Only sometimes it doesn't work out that way. Sometimes the phone doesn't ring, sometimes the boys don't stop by your house on the way home after school, sometimes the girls don't tell you about a slumber party they're planning. Sometimes nothing happens, and those sometimes are the worst times any girl can have.

Such times occur even in the lives of the best of us, times when the social whirl slows to a standstill and life becomes a dreary round of music lessons and movies with the family. However, don't let these bad times get you down. If your steady beau, Johnny, has not called you in a week; if your best friend, Sally, suddenly starts walking home with another girl; if the prom is only two weeks away and you still haven't been bid, don't fold up.

Look the facts square in the face. Maybe this social slump has come about because of your own behavior. Maybe you've been too sure of yourself lately. Maybe you told Johnny that he was getting to be a bore; maybe you told a secret about Sally you swore you would never tell; maybe you acted as if going to the prom was the very last thing you ever wanted to

On the other hand, perhaps this dismal droop in your social life isn't your fault at all. All of a sudden, Johnny just decides to be indifferent, Sally is working off a peeve, and the prom is just one of those horrors that happen. If that is the case and you are as innocent as a newborn babe, it still does no good to sulk. Sulking never helped anyone.

No matter why the phone has stopped ringing, you are not going to improve matters by sitting up nights devising devilish tortures for every person you consider has done you wrong. You will only get dark circles under your eyes and a nasty disposition to boot. You will only make the situation worse if you take a negative attitude, if you shrug your shoulders and say, "Well, after all, who cares?"

Basically somebody does care. You care. You care, because like everyone else on this planet you want to be liked, you want to be popular, you want to be a girl who gets around. You want to have a crowd to pal around with, a few exciting dates and at least one boy who thinks you are about the most terrific female ever. If you say that you don't, you are really only fooling yourself. You are certainly not fooling others.

If you say, "I don't care," and start putting that philosophy into practice, you will find that you start retreating from life. You will withdraw into a shell until people will have a hard time deciding whether you are truly you or just an oyster. Now oysters, no doubt, have a way of communicating with other oysters in spite of their forbidding exteriors, but human beings are differently constructed. Human beings only talk to people who are willing to talk with them in return. They will only warm up to people who show that they have warmth to respond. If you want to be a human being, and a popular human being, then you have to stop being an oyster and come out of your shell.

So when things go badly, you must decide not to retreat; you must attack. But you attack in a special way, not by going out and slugging the first person who comes along, not by getting into an argument with your mother (who, after all, has had nothing to do with your troubles); you attack by working out your displeasure in a determined effort to make yourself so doggoned attractive that Johnny will come racing back, Sally will call you up for a Coke and a confession and the phone will start ringing again like mad.