So you wanna know how I got into this lip modeling thing? It wasn’t like I woke up one day and boom, lip model. Far from it, actually. I kind of stumbled into it, thinking, “Hey, I’ve got decent lips, how hard can it be?” Famous last words, let me tell ya.
Taking Care of the Goods
First things first, your lips gotta be in top shape. And I don’t mean just slapping on some chapstick. Nah. I learned the hard way. My lips were dry, a bit chapped from just, you know, living. And nobody wants to see that up close, magnified a hundred times. It’s not like they hand you a manual for this stuff.
- Scrubbing: I started making my own sugar scrubs. Just some sugar and a bit of honey or coconut oil I had in the kitchen. Gentle, though! You don’t want to make them sore. I did that once. Not fun.
- Moisturizing: All the darn time. I had lip balm in every pocket, every bag, next to my bed. Not the cheap waxy stuff either, that just sits on top. Had to find ones that actually soaked in. Trial and error, mostly error at the start.
- Hydration: Sounds basic, and everyone says it, but drinking enough water? Seriously, it made a difference. My lips (and my skin, for that matter) actually looked plumper.
It became a whole ritual. Morning and night. Sounds like a lot of fuss, but if you want those clear, smooth close-ups, you gotta put in the work. No shortcuts there, I found out.
Getting the Shots
Then came trying to actually get pictures. My phone camera back then? Forget it. The lighting in my bathroom? Even worse. I thought, “I’ll just take a few pretty selfies.” Yeah, right. Those early attempts were… something else. Blurry, weird shadows, bad angles, you name it, I probably did it wrong.
I had to actually learn a bit about lighting. Who knew? Natural light is your best friend, seriously. Facing a window, but not with the sun blasting your face. And angles! My god, the angles. Your lips can look completely different from just a tiny shift of your head. I practiced. A lot. I must have looked like a complete weirdo making faces at my phone for hours on end.
Eventually, I roped in a friend who was okay-ish with a camera. Still not professional, mind you, but way better than my shaky hands. We took hundreds of photos. Just hundreds. To get like, five good ones. You need a portfolio, even a small one to start. Showing different expressions, maybe with a bit of gloss, or just natural. They wanna see versatility, or so I was told later.
The So-Called “Gigs”
Okay, so I had lips that weren’t cracking anymore and some slightly-better-than-terrible photos. Now what? I started poking around online. Lots of “opportunities” that felt a bit sketchy, if you know what I mean. “Send us your pics and $50 for a listing!” Yeah, no thanks. Seemed like a good way to lose fifty bucks.
My first actual paying thing? It was tiny. For some local indie makeup brand that found me through a friend of a friend who’d seen my obsessive lip care routine and probably thought I was nuts. It paid almost nothing, barely covered my bus fare, but it was real. I was so nervous. They just wanted a few shots of their new lip stain. The photographer was nice enough, but the makeup artist kept tutting because one side of my lip was apparently “minutely less plump.” Can you believe that? Minutely! That’s the kind of stuff you deal with.
That’s when I really understood. It’s not just about having nice lips. It’s about consistency, being able to hold a pose without twitching, working with people who are looking at one tiny part of you with intense scrutiny. It’s work. Sometimes really tedious work. People see the final picture and think it’s all glamour and pouting. Most of the time, it’s holding your mouth in a slightly unnatural shape for ages while someone fiddles with a light for the tenth time, telling you “just a little more to the left… no, my left.”
I remember this one time, I was doing this shoot in a studio that was freezing. My lips started to get that bluish tinge, you know? And the makeup artist was getting all stressed out. They had me sipping warm water and practically sitting on a portable heater between takes. Not so glamorous then, huh? Just trying not to look like a popsicle.
And why am I even bothering to tell you all this? Because when I started, there wasn’t much real talk about it. Just glossy pictures and articles that made it sound easy. I figured someone out there might want to know the nitty-gritty, the stuff that happens behind the scenes. It ain’t rocket science, sure, but it ain’t a walk in the park where you just show up and look pretty either. You gotta be patient, super persistent, and honestly, a little bit lucky to catch a break.
So yeah, that’s a bit of my journey into it. It started with a random thought and then a whole lot of trial, error, and chapped lips before I figured things out. Lots of lip balm, weird faces in the mirror, and learning to deal with very, very picky people. If you’re thinking about it, just know it’s more than just puckering up on command. But hey, if you’ve got the patience and the pout, who knows? Maybe you’ll find your little spot too.
