The human hair district is not the most popular area of New York, but it does exist. There are no clubs filled with the tall and slender beauties of our time. There is none of the usual dance floor intimacy or bathroom party sessions. There are just warehouses filled with a maze of crates the size of Volkswagens. The space is tight and the air is smothered, thick with hair.

It is on the edge of this follicle jungle that I will be vaulted to the next level, and I wade through its dark streets in acute anticipation.

I arrive at the 12th-floor studio, and as the door opens I am greeted by a bright barrage of sun which finds the warehouse windows like a supermodel searching for a smoke in a bar full of men-instantly and with authority. The windows submit to the sun's every whim, surrendering the entire room to fantastic light as rays ricochet off of stark white surfaces.

Enter Ines Rivero. She strolls through the studio, kissing people along the way. She has worked with many of them before and she greets them like old friends. I swallow hard like a boy in a rented tuxedo awaiting his prom date. She moves toward me. I'm the last one to be greeted. She leans in. I lean in. I shake her hand. I shake her fucking hand!

I have friends thrown all over this blue/brown spaceship known as Earth, and I have to live with the fact that I had a chance to breathe in the skin of a beautiful and successful model and . . . I shook her hand. I will be shot back in Texas. Sure, it would have been a peck on the cheek, but that part could have been brushed under the rug when reliving the story over beers.

ir: No, no problem. You don't mind if I eat while we talk, do you? she replies with a prominent accent which I later find out is Argentine; it's fantastic, by the way. I help her by carrying one of her bags over to the table, where we settle into seats and she begins to pull out foil boxes-her lunch, I assume.

As I look at her-no, I mean begin to really look at her-I see why companies such as Victoria's Secret have her at the top of their lists. She is the obligatory tall and slender, but unlike many models she looks healthy. Her face is flush with the color of caramel and is accented by a fleck of freckles which make her look youthful and happy even when she doesn't seem to be smiling. It's tough to do, but I take a moment and decide to press on with my demanding job.

I look at her lunch, which is obviously sushi. It could be nothing but sushi-probably one tuna roll and one California roll-and I begin with one of the stupidest questions ever.

dc: What have ya got there?

ir: Sushi. You want some?

dc: No thanks.

ir: You don't like sushi?

dc: No, I like it plenty, but I had my share living in California for a while. Those are nice chopsticks though. Did they give you those with your order?

ir: No. I had to buy these for extra. They are too slippery. Usually I just eat with the wooden ones.

dc: Yeah. I usually carry around my own custom chopsticks for just such . . . no, just kidding.

ir: So what do you want to know? How I got started? What I think about the industry?

dc: Maybe later. You ever been in a fist fight?

ir: What?

dc: You know, fist fight (as I jab the air between us). Have you ever knocked the hell out of someone?

ir: No, I've never been in a fight, but I have punched somebody before.

dc: Now we're talkin'. Was it backstage at a show or somethin'?

ir: No, it was a man (she begins to laugh); he was harassing me so I punched him in the face.

dc: Right on! Did you knock him down? What did he do?

ir: He punched me back.

dc: Oh yeah?

ir: Yeah. I regret the whole thing. I knew I shouldn't have hit him to start with, but I'm very-I'm a fire sign-I don't believe in signs really-but I'm very emotional. I get nervous very easily and so I just react sometimes.

dc: (I have to ask) Okay, what's your sign?

ir: I'm a Leo. August 18th.

dc: No shit, so am I. August 6th. (A kindred spirit. I began to feel the love.)

ir: But over the last year I have learned a lot more things; like I don't want to hurt anybody . . . any more than they hurt me back (laughs). I learned that a punch hurts (continues to laugh).

dc: Yeah. I guess you've learned that if you're gonna hit, hit to win. Now, for some of the standard questions: How did you get your start in the industry?

ir: Well, I started back home in Argentina. It's the typical story. I was a tomboy. I liked to play sports with the boys. I was always tall, blah, blah, blah. When I was about sixteen, I was discovered in Argentina and I started modeling there. When I was almost nineteen I went to Paris just to take a look. A couple months later, after I turned nineteen, I went to work in Paris.

dc: That's a young age to be taking off on your own to another country. Did you take your mom along?

ir: No. I was always extremely independent. I left home originally when I was fourteen. I love my mother, but you can't have mommy with you everywhere you go. You aren't going to bring your mom backstage at a fashion show. If you want to be a successful model, you've got to be extremely independent and confident.

dc: Did it take a while to get work when you moved to Paris?

ir: No. In a way it might have been too easy. I started working pretty soon after arriving in Paris. I was with Elite and I was working steadily. I quickly got on what is called the "Elite Board," which is where they put the top models. I was like, "What am I doing up there?"

dc: What? Did you think that you hadn't paid your dues?

ir: Right. A lot of the girls questioned whether I had because it happened kind of fast, but I tried not to worry about it. I thought, you know, "I have paid my dues in Argentina. Maybe . . ."

dc: Maybe God had put you on the fast track to modeling success?

ir: Yes, exactly.

dc: Just remember, the ones who say "you have to pay your dues" are usually the guys trying to give you their jobs shoveling up after circus animals so they can move up the ladder. More power to you. How did you start working in America?

ir: I started getting jobs over here. Then about two years ago I got a place over here, but I was traveling back to Europe because I knew the market better. Eventually I started getting more work here, so I spend most of my time here.

dc: Would you consider Victoria's Secret your largest job to date?

ir: Yes, and I love working with them; they are so nice.

dc: Do you do mostly lingerie for them, or do you also do bathing suits?

ir: Lingerie. Bras, actually. Like in that commercial with the ray guns.

dc: Oh yeah, I like that one. It's kind of like Charlie's Angels meets Alien.

When you were carrying the ray gun around, did you have the safety on?

ir: What?

dc: No, seriously, did you ever want to use the ray gun on any of the other girls? Like zap Stephanie Seymour in the ass to mellow her out?

ir: (Laughing) No, of course not. Anyway, I think I will be doing bathing suits for them soon.

dc: That should be nice. Do you have any advice for all those people who want to be models?

ir: You have to be sure you can make it. The work itself is not hard, but it can be very cruel. You can't be a model just by saying you're a model; do you know what I mean? You can try it, but if you aren't getting work, you should be smart enough to do something else-something that will make you happy.

dc: What would that be for you? What would you be doing if you weren't modeling?

ir: I don't know. I think I would like to have a company that I would have to be at all the time. I would like to make something no one realizes they need.

dc: Well, don't you think everyone would like a job like that? I would. How about making those little plastic things at the end of your shoe laces?

ir: Oh yeah! Exactly what I'm talking about. Everyone uses those, but they don't even think about them. What are they called anyway?

dc: Widgets maybe? Anyway, back to modeling. As a model, you are always having to wear G-strings for shoots and shows. After that's all said and done, do you look forward to slipping on a normal pair of underwear?

ir: No, not really. I don't like big underwear. I work so much that I just got used to wearing a G-string. So now I wear them or . . .

dc: Or what? Nothing at all?

ir: Most of the time, yes. Nothing at all.

Yes, it was much like prom. At the beginning I was filled with anticipation and giddiness. Towards the middle we got to know each other better over some Japanese food. And, at the end, I went home with a satisfactory smile because I found out that my girl doesn't wear underwear.

Courtesy of Tearsheet Magazine.

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