Following mulling over various potential income streams, I settled on the idea of hand modeling as the perfect quick, get-rich endeavor. With a faint recollection of someone, it was probably myself, praising my hands; I envisioned raking in millions by showcasing and posing my hands in various scenarios.
I typed in ‘hand modeling L.A.’ on Google, and behold! There was, disappointingly, one casting agent with open auditions, the Body Parts Models, Inc. Without such inclusive and open sessions, I wondered how aspiring hand models even got their start in the industry.
I envisioned myself poised in the lively food court of the Glendale Galleria Mall, gracefully holding a can of soda. A discerning scout for hand models observes the practical finesse and is awed by how my delicate hands make a medium-sized paper cup gleam. “Excuse me, miss, you should consider being a hand model,” he suggests. Contemplating the idea, I reply, “I’ll give it some thought,” deftly accepting his business card with my nimble fingers.
Meanwhile, I was reading Body Parts Models Inc.’s instructions for their audition on their website. My first step in preparing my hands for their debut involved painting my nails with two coats of Essie’s Ballet Slipper pink. Amidst choices like Powder-Me Pink and Fairy Wings, I locate Ballet Slipper, appreciate its sheer beauty, snag it with a coupon, and head home. Opting to handle my own manicure to avoid micromanaging a professional, the color I picked proves to be a dazzling selection. Now adorned with the perfect hue, I feel ready to exhibit my hands, perhaps while elegantly holding a bouquet of parsley for a grocery store ad.
The next day, I headed to the audition in a Beverly Hills neighborhood. The street, lined with older homes, hinted at a peaceful haven for elderly couples along Coldwater Canyon Drive. The residential setting gave me pause, but a sign on the door, reassuring “talent” (yes, me!), guided entry from the back. Opening the back gate, I discovered a group of America’s most eager and hopeful body parts models.
I was mistaken in thinking I had stumbled upon a niche job market. The attendees weren’t just aspiring hand models; they represented any of the 14 specialized divisions: lip, eyes, hair, neck, ears, feet, and more. I can’t even name 14 body parts, let alone envision them all ‘modeled up’ in an ad.
The lengthy queue wound around the pool (obviously, there was a pool) and meandered through the patio. Each person was unique. I found myself scrutinizing them, attempting to guess their intended modeling focus. Some seemed seasoned and familiar with the process and the layout. I believe I even spotted someone who brought their own fold-out chair.
A couple of staff members helped us with sign-ins and directed people to the pool house for restroom access. I queued up behind a shirtless guy, probably targeting abs, or maybe he was just trying to catch some Beverly Hills sun. Marie Teglovic, the casting agent, eventually emerged. Tall and blonde, her enthusiasm for the job was evident; she paused to exchange hushed words with two members of the staff. Proceeding, she walked through the crowd and stationed herself at the backyard’s highest point, turning it into her stage.
With such a public setup, everyone’s audition was on display. Marie made instant decisions, signaling whether you advanced to the photography line, indicating a potential signing, or if it was a simple exit. Almost everyone proceeded to the photography line. Around 45 minutes into the wait, I witnessed the first rejection. A girl pleaded loudly with Marie to consider any qualifying body parts. In her desperate moment, Marie, unable to dismiss her outright, asked to reevaluate her hands. After a moment’s reconsideration, Marie approved, and the girl went off to have her hands photographed, her expressions of gratitude fading away as she walked off.
When my turn arrived, I exchanged a knowing glance with Marie. To get a head start, I took photos of my hands and emailed an introduction to her. Taking those photos was a notable achievement, as I had to manage the camera while simultaneously posing my other hand in a relaxed, demure manner.
I used a self-timer and held the camera in my mouth to get a shot of both my hands. Despite having friends who could have assisted, I chose to sidestep potential embarrassment and maintain a semblance of self-respect. The email response praised my hands, stating, “These are nice hands!” It also extended an invitation to an “Exclusive Model Casting,” which, as it turned out, was this very same public event listed on their website, open for anyone to observe and participate.
Linda requested to see my hands, and I awkwardly extended them for her scrutiny. Her rejection was somewhat prolonged, expressing that she didn’t find my hands suitable. She inquired if I had anything else to showcase, referring to any of the 14 eligible body parts. While I did have nice elbows, I politely denied the other parts of my body to her; I’d decided by then that she didn’t deserve to see them and left.
Around a month later, I received an email from Marie asking for hand models on her roster to confirm attendance for an audition. I had assumed that if companies chose your photo, you simply showed up for the shoot. This was my misconception; that you needed only one audition—the one to get signed.
I couldn’t grasp that it involved more effort than that. I was mistaken. Once signed, you may attend several auditions before securing a booking. While this prospect might excite someone passionate about hand modeling, for me, I realized that hand modeling wasn’t the fast-money-making job I’d thought it was, and honestly, it required too much effort. I chose not to respond to Marie’s email. Let’s be clear—I turned down hand modeling; it wasn’t the other way around.
Although hand modeling isn’t listed as a skill on my resume, I find ways to bring it up in everyday conversation. Don’t ask me to pass the salt; it turns into a whole-body affair. “Here we have a fine pink Himalayan,” I say, delicately lifting the salt with only my thumb and index finger, pinky up.