But this wasn't the first time I had been called overweight, despite my jutting rib cage and hips. I had walked the catwalk twice at Paris Fashion Week, worked with a range of talented photographers and stylists, and was part of a world filled with staggeringly beautiful people.
After a quick glance, the casting director returned to his seat in the adjacent room and muttered to his stylist, 'He's beautiful, but he's fat.' Sound travels easily in a hard-floored warehouse I had moved to the changing room, but I heard his words clearly. I was exhausted after 14 hours of castings, and so I did what I was told and removed my undershirt to reveal my rather pallid chest. 'Take off your top and show me your torso,' he said. The casting director, a Dutch man in his 50s with a large paunch, looked at me, his eyes darting around my body.