Photo by Diana Ragland
Like most people, as a teenager I thought modelling was glamorous. And, from the outside, my career was everything I could have hoped for. My face featured in nearly every glossy magazine on sale, but behind the style and success was a much sadder reality.
Modelling, for me, was a dream I believed could save me. I ran away from home at 16 and a year later I was scouted in San Francisco, assigned an agent, and flown to New York. I lived with other young aspiring models in a run-down models apartment and slowly I began to realise I wasn’t quite safe.
Popular models in the United States in the 80s at the time all had a similar look: big blonde hair like Christie Brinkley. My image didn’t quite match that aesthetic and when I didn’t get the instant success my agent was hoping for, I was sent to Paris.
I was told by the head of the New Faces division that I would be living with the European Chief of Elite Model Management / President of Euro division of Elite Model Management and that this would be good for my career. I naively thought so and assumed I’d been chosen because I was special. In reality, I was handpicked because, with no family or guardian looking out for me, I was vulnerable and alone. That made me easy to control.
The power imbalance between models and agents is evident as soon as you become part of the industry. But, as a kid, I didn’t really understand the systemic issues at play. All the girls around me were young and at many were at risk. From bookers to photographers to agents, there was often someone wielding power over us.
Still, I hung onto the hope that this was going to be my big break until the night that Marie first assaulted me. From that moment, my world instantly came crashing in and I realised just how unsafe and alone I really was.
Like most survivors, I completely disassociated in order to survive. I lived in a state of hypervigilance, my eating disorder intensified, I was overtaken by a deep depression, and I instantaneously became incredibly fearful of the opposite sex.
I was 17 when my abuse took place in 1986 and Marie was living with his partner Linda Evangalista - who he married a year later. I constantly compared myself to her and felt so much shame over what had taken place when she was out of town and completely unaware of what he was doing. I was a minor - a victim of abuse – yet I entirely blamed myself for everything Marie did to me.
Quickly, I realised I would only be permitted to continue working as a model if I allowed my abuse to continue. That was a terrifying threat hanging over my head. Marie held the power in every aspect of my life: he owned the roof over my head, provided my clothes, paid for my Metro card—everything. I had no money of my own and the agency kept my passport. I was completely at the mercy of my aggressor.
To this day, it makes me sad that there was nobody there to protect me. None of the adults around me acted like adults. And photographers and bookers either participated in the abuse or were complicit by choosing to look the other way. For me, there was no such thing as a safe grown up.
Later that year, I was trafficked to Milan and put in another awful model’s apartment and slept on a mattress on the floor. That was punishment for pushing back against my abuse. I stopped being called to go to castings, stopped being given work and flew back to America eight months later.
'Like most survivors, I completely disassociated in order to survive.'
After living off the grid in a friend’s cabin with no electricity or running water for several months, I began to model for catalogues to earn a living and it was a revelation that the job could be totally predictable and professional: I wasn’t expected to parade around in my underwear during a casting, I had a nine to five schedule, I was given a lunch break—things I’d never dreamed of in Europe.
To protect myself, I created this badass persona that eventually became Carré Otis. I was an invincible motorbike chick who wore leather jackets and wasn’t about to ever let anybody hurt me again. But underneath it all, I was trying to rebuild my ability to trust.
The entire time I was abused, I assumed that it was only happening to me. But 14 other women have now filed testimonies to a prosecutor in Paris claiming they were sexually assaulted by Marie. Meeting them has been powerful but also profoundly sad. It’s evidence of just how pervasive and systemic the abuse in the modelling industry is.
Currently, France’s statute of limitations means sexual abuse has to be reported within 20 years, or 30 if you’re a minor. That regulation makes me so angry for all of us. It’s a system designed to protect perpetrators instead of to honour and protect survivors.
Often, survivors can’t admit what has taken place for years. And without another person coming forwards whose case falls within these statutes, our criminal investigation into the abuse we all suffered may well lead to nothing.
We’ve been screaming “industry abuse” for so long. But there seems to be a mentality that, if you look a certain way, it’s acceptable for you to endure sexual harassment and assault. I struggle to understand in what world that can make any sense. It’s absolute discrimination.
Right now, there’s a powerful uprising. People are waking up from a slumber and realising that the conditions we’ve been told to accept in the modelling industry are not okay. For survivors, of course there will always be a fear of coming forwards, but we are stronger and safer together. Real change can and will happen. It’s my civil responsibility to make the world a safer place for women and girls, and I am determined to succeed. I now know that I am not alone.
Gérald Marie remains under police investigation in France and is presumed innocent.
A lawyer for Gérald Marie has stated that he ‘firmly objects’ to the ‘false allegations made against him’. She added: ‘He remains calm and refuses to participate in the fallacious and dishonest media controversy that has been fomented more than thirty years later. He is withholding his statements for the justice system, in which he has complete faith.’
Scouting for Girls: Fashion’s Darkest Secret is available to watch on Sky Documentaries and streaming service NOW