And the toll it takes on aspiring models and actors

Prabh Uppal arrived in Mumbai from Ludhiana two years ago with Rs 1.5 lakh in his bank account. His lecturer mother had given him this money to help him settle comfortably in the city while he tried his chances as a model. He started by living with friends as a house guest, but soon realised that no money was coming in to replace what he was spending.

Male models get much less work than their female counterparts, and even now, Uppal says, sometimes a month goes by before he gets an assignment. He is engaged by a modelling agency whose foreign models get priority over him. “The agency is paying for their stay and expenses,” he says, “So they get them jobs because they need to get their money back. [In contrast], male models like me work maybe five days a month, sometimes none. But when we do get work [for print advertisements or on the fashion ramp], it’s good money.”

A large chunk of that money must be spent on keeping up appearances. That is the nature of the modelling scene. Uppal spends Rs 15,000 on rent for a house in Versova that is shared with two others. Just a day ago, he spent Rs 50,000 buying clothes at Zara. He also bought a couple of perfumes because how one smells is also important. “We have to sell products, so we need to look good,” he reasons, “That’s why you are a model.” He got a haircut recently for Rs 2,500. He trains at a crossfit—a mix of aerobics, body-weight exercises, gymnastics and weightlifting—gymnasium in his neighbourhood that takes a monthly Rs 5,000 off him. “My trainer says that if you can’t spend at least that much on your workout, you can’t be a model.” He attends Bollywood dance classes to loosen limbs stiffened by all the gymming; that’s another Rs 2,500 per month. Uppal also socialises a lot, which soaks up anything from Rs 1,500 to Rs 4,000 every night out. At home, he has a high-protein diet and says he spends Rs 20,000 per month just on daily purchases of chicken, which the three roommates share. “If you add other groceries, it’s Rs 10,000 more.” Add auto and taxi commutes, and that is another Rs 10,000. Plus there are expenses like phone and electricity bills.

All in all, Uppal’s monthly appearance maintenance bill stands at about Rs 1 lakh. But it is money he does not begrudge spending. “Obviously I want to be an actor too,” he says, “But it’s hard surviving as a model or an aspiring actor. But what can you do? Anyone can become a model these days, but to do well, you need luck and looks. At least I can control the looks part.”

He contemplates going back to Ludhiana almost every morning. “I have three cars at home,” he says. Once, he even left the city, only to return a few days later. “This glamour world, it’s hard but addictive,” he says, “You just can’t give it up. It’s not possible.”

Like Uppal, 27-year-old Debrah Marian came to Mumbai from Pune three years ago and hasn’t been able to go back. She got selected for Anupam Kher’s acting school and has nursed dreams of becoming an actress ever since. She did get a role in a movie that is stuck in post-production and also hosted a show on cricket for Sahara. Now, as she doesn’t have much work, she assists a director to make some money and keep busy. Three years ago, she broke up with her boyfriend because being married would have hurt her chances as an actress. She now regrets giving up love. Nothing is worth doing that, she feels.

Marian likens the struggle to look good to taking a daily test. “Everyone thinks that the next meeting will change everything and so ‘always be prepared’. It’s like you are going to buy a lottery ticket every day. You are pushing your optimism to the limit and that’s emotionally draining. You have to repair your self-image every single day.”

The recent suicide of Jiah Khan had a profound impact on Marian. “I have decided that if I get work the way I am, that’s well and good,” she says, “I can’t be plagued by bad thoughts anymore.”

She is aware of the perils of the field. She knows of many models and aspiring actresses who have got used to a certain kind of lifestyle and will do anything to keep it going. “I have heard of friends of mine who were simple girls from small towns who are now high-class escorts just so they can keep up their lavish lifestyles—with the clothes, bags and socialising,” she says.

At the start of her career, there were times that money was short and Marian took loans from her parents. She used to spend big bucks on dance classes, the gym and salon, and even hired a dietician to keep her food habits in control. “You have this immense pressure to look good even if you are out with your friends,” she says, “There is just so much competition.” Now she stops herself when she wants to buy something expensive. “It’s not worth it. When you study to be a lawyer, you become one. In modelling, there is no guarantee you will ever make it, despite what you put in—be it money or emotion.”

Such stories are not new to Mumbai, which attracts young men and women from across India to be the next Ranbir Kapoor, Katrina Kaif or Milind Soman. But only a few ever succeed. A few years ago, any journalist who interviewed Jiah Khan (including this writer) came away with a sense of her youthful, innocent vibe. Her optimism was palpable—as if the world were at her feet. But, as media reports suggest, the actress soon sank into the depression of failing to make it big and attendant financial difficulties.

To most models and actors, Mumbai is a relentless emotional and financial struggle. Like Sharmistha, who came from Kolkata a few years ago. “Jo dikhta hai, woh bikta hai (What shows is what sells),” she says. “You can’t just walk to a meeting looking like a normal person. Why will people give you a job or expect you to sell something if you don’t look half decent? Clothes are very important.” She has just spent Rs 5 lakh on a trip to Dubai, where she walked the ramp at a fashion show. “They gave me Rs 2 lakh and I had three in my savings. I came back with no money made.”

She loves good shoes and only wears Jimmy Choos. She has a watch fetish and her collection includes a couple of Diors. She is aware modelling cannot sustain such a lifestyle and now does it only part-time, having got another job managing a resort in Goa. “I go to Mumbai when I get work. I can’t live like that anymore… waiting everyday for that movie or role.”

One of Hollywood’s latest offerings, The Bling Ring, directed by Sofia Coppola, is based on the true story of a bunch of teens so taken in by the lifestyle of the rich and famous that they steal just to look the part. That is not the norm in Mumbai, but is not beyond imagination either.

The irony of the world of aspiring models is the idea of spending huge amounts on looking good while struggling to survive. Supermodel Candice Pinto feels that there is no way around it. “Models are looked at all the time, so you have to maintain appearances.” Back when she started modelling, she remembers, it was much tougher than it is now. “There were few established models and to break into that clique was very hard. You had to work very hard.”

Modelling agencies have made it easier for newcomers to get breaks now, but Candice observes that competition has also multiplied—with every second person looking to be a model. “Many girls go and do shady things to make money because you obviously need money, and there are so many people doing this,” she says. “Getting noticed is very tough,” she advises, “but just work hard and play your cards right, and money does come.”

Pransh Chopra, 29, who worked at a multinational corporation before deciding to become an actor, came from Delhi to Mumbai with a fair sum of savings. In two years, he had exhausted his money and found that good work was scarce. “I had to borrow from my parents and that really hurt me. I didn’t even have the money to pay my bills.” His perseverance, however, has paid off. He has done ads and short films that have topped up his bank balance. “Now I am very careful,” he says, referring to expenses.

There are other survival tactics too. Many models splurge on their lifestyle as a professional necessity but cut costs elsewhere. In the words of Nirmala Shrimal, who won a reality show called Beauty and the Geek on Channel [V] a few years ago: “You have to strike a balance. Just because I pay a high rent in Juhu [a posh residential locality], I make sure I curb all my other expenses. I only eat at home and don’t even go to the parlour. I use kitchen ingredients to make myself look pretty.”

Shrimal had used her prize money of Rs 5 lakh to get to Mumbai from Chennai and lived the first few months at the local YWCA to keep costs low. She doesn’t shop much. “I have a mantra: if I have a good body, I will look good. So I just spend on the gym.” She is conscious, too, about doing what she can to keep her spirits high. “I don’t meet people who judge me on how I look,” she says, “If I go out all dressed up to meet someone, I balance it out by going out in my most casual clothes to make sure it’s my personality that shines through.”