So I haven't written anything in awhile even though there's at least four topics waiting to be explored and one is more controversial than the other.

However, since this is something other than animal cruelty that makes my blood boil, I'm going to focus on this one, let the steam off finally, and shed a little light on the topic at hand while shamelessly self-advertising and virtually whoring myself out.

Modelling.

Started it when I was 16, back in Hungary. Now what you gotta know about Hungary is that it's generally behind by about 50 years in everything, even though it was under a socialist/communist influence after WW II and considered itself to be closer in tendencies to the West than the Eastern block.

It is still straining aggressively to keep up with the West in every possible way despite the PM's unapologetic good-humoured relationship with Putin.

Where I'm going with this is that progressiveness in Hungary is nothing but a fancy straw-man. This includes the fashion industry as well.

While in America outright telling someone to lose weight is a cardinal sin and the SJWs will stone you to death, in Hungary's fashion industry it isn't even considered rude.

Now telling 14-18-year-old teenagers that their bodies are not perfect as it is pours about a gallon oil to the already bonfire-like flame. In that critical period was it that I started modelling. If you've read one of my articles about anorexia you'll know that I was starving myself—meals were constricted to one a day—and was exercising rigorously at the time.

It did not help my already distorted body image when I had to strut down in a bikini before a hundred people or stand waiting in a room with girls who were skinnier than me. The cherry on the cake was however that I sat down for a chat with the jury at this inaugural modelling competition that the agency held in January (needless to say Christmas was hell) and was told that my pictures are amazing but I do need to lose a lot of weight. The saddest thing is that 16-year-old me nodded doggedly and in defeat, knowing that her already emaciated body was not pushed to the frontiers of human endurance enough yet and that these people, most of them not exactly without pudge, were absolutely right to throw this in my face.

I'm 5'9" (175 cm) tall and at the time I was around 58-60 kg (127 lbs-132 lbs). The muscle I had on my bones was from the running I did six times a week for an hour. At the end of my crazy, I used to run 6-8k a day.

Bubble-head Effect - When You're so Thin Your Head Morbidly Seems Huge on Your Shoulders

My first ever photo-shoot with the talent that this dude is. He remains to be one of the best I've worked with. Recently photographed Barbara Palvin

While this is not the worst kind of thin I would think, eating disorders have their own face and that was not normal for me.

My stamina improved with running. I was never as fit as I was then but I was constantly ill. Exhausted.

I religiously went running. I dogmatically starved myself, figuring out new and new ways to torture my body while telling myself someone would love me if only I lost two more inches off my thighs... which is obviously BS.

If you look at my arm in this picture, Ethiopian long-distance runners would be jealous of that arm...

Pic from My First Ever Shoot for My Agency Portfolio

You could say this was common knowledge that women have to starve themselves, especially if they want to be models but I do not know what is aesthetically pleasing about being so thin. It does not look healthy or appealing. Yes, you can put anything on it and it will be long and slim but by putting all of these hyper-skinny people on the front of magazines basically targets a small percentage of the population.

To tell those people as well that they're worthless that you would employ as the sellers of products means the images won't look convincing either. Instead of embracing the slowly progressing world and saying that you know what I'd rather expand my market and scout for 20 percent of the population not only 2 percent you'd get more money from commissions. This is what the big agencies have realised and that is why curve lines exist. No, not plus size.

I'm plus size as a size 12 and I doubt anyone would describe me as even chubby. In a world where oversized butts are trendy I do not understand why for example the Hungarian fashion industry couldn't be more forward-thinking.

Saying that, if you remember my stats—5'9" (175 cm), 58-60 kg (127 lbs-132lbs)—and that not being enough my beautiful friend who is 5'7", (170cm) and 48 kg(105 lbs) was not thin enough for any agencies in Hungary. If they wouldn't give any jobs to her, I was definitely doomed.

Needless to say my modelling career set off far better in Britain because agencies and the world realised that thin and tall is not the only type of person that can be beautiful.

For some reason, the product my ass was too fat for back in Hungary can be sold with my face only in the UK. There are countless models at agencies who are my size and get paid professional work. Some people like Charlie Howard have become activists for a more accepting body-positive industry just as Ashley Graham and Iskra Lawrence have advocated for a more diverse standard of beauty.

To slam the Hungarian industry even more when our most famous model Barbara Palvin gained a few pounds and it was clearly visible on the cover of Sports Illustrated that she wasn't a child but a woman with some curves, the whole country collectively held its breath to be able to burst out in laughter all at once since IT happened to her too...

Just to illustrate the Grand Canyon between the UK and Hungary, now I get regular offers from photographers and they usually do not care how big my butt is as long as they get away with great shots and can work with me quite easily. In Hungary I went to a single casting where they told me to bring heels but not to bring a bikini. So the same one-piece was given to those who the agency "forgot to tell." Don't know about you but that works with weed, booze, and nothing else—you don't pass around something that has touched your crotch.

Oh, yeah and I'm around 150 pounds now. Twenty lbs more than when I was unemployable. The Hungarian fashion industry needs a reality check with all the other branches of obsolete agency-based ideas of beauty since they are the dinosaurs of 2018.

Maybe it's easier to photograph perfect people; too bad they don't exist...