Doris Anna is a part-time model living in New York. One day she got called to shoot the above video with David Gandy — male supermodel and ravishing hunk extraordinaire — for the Bionda Castana shoe line. This is her story.
For almost every job I book into as a model, I have no idea what to expect or what I'll be doing. I've shown up to shoots and ended up wearing a see-through gown in the middle of Times Square in January, and I've had my hair colored with blue chalk. If I asked too many questions, I might not want to do a lot of jobs, so it's best to just not. This was the case when one afternoon not long ago my agent told me to go to a fitting because I'd be shooting a video the next day. At the fitting were the usual suspects — models, hair and makeup artists, stylists, and producers. All seemed more or less normal.
"You get to meet David Gandy tomorrow," a woman there tells me. "Did you read the script?"
"Oh, cool," I responded. I hadn't read the script, but I knew from the audition that it involved a bedroom scene. I figured this was nothing to get excited over. In the three years I've been part-time modeling, I've had my fair share of intimate moments with male models, and it feels as sexy as kissing a mannequin at Macy's. (Sorry, boys, but you know you feel the same way.)
"He's a Dolce & Gabbana model," she added excitedly, sensing my lack of enthusiasm.
I smiled politely. "I can't wait!" I said, trying to mirror her excitement.
At home later, my curiosity piqued, and I google imaged this Gandy fellow. A more accurate description would have been "THE Dolce & Gabbana model." If you've looked at a magazine or billboards over the past decade, you've probably seen him: He's the man who sits on the boat, legs open, wearing tighty-whities in front of the perfume bottle.
This is Gandy.
Google him and you'll learn other fun facts about him, like that Dolce & Gabbana dedicated a book exclusively to him. It consists of nothing but glorious shots of David Gandy and his spectacular physique, which is sort of like a rock sculpture that looks like it would be soft and warm to the touch. (Disclaimer: Google image "David Gandy Dolce & Gabbana" and things can get NSFW pretty fast.) Now I was a little nervous. How will I get enough sleep tonight for my 5:45 a.m. call time?
Woe is me. Woe. Is. Me.
Miraculously, the next morning I made it on time to Soho House, where we were shooting. Once in the holding room, a man wearing a baseball cap immediately greeted me with smiles: "Hi, I'm David. Come on in."
Wow, I thought, He's so nice. Looks a bit different from pictures — but charming!
Turns out, lack of sleep and dim lighting can really mess with one's vision. The man with the baseball cap was actually David Schwimmer, aka Ross from Friends!!! He was producing the Gandy shoot. I realized my mistake as soon as Schwimmer stepped aside, revealing a tan, mysterious man with piercing blue eyes, sipping coffee through lips that seemed to whisper, "Dolce & Gabbana, light blue, buy it now and touch my abs…" So THAT was David Gandy. Well: wow.
It was so early that I didn't think much of him at this point. My primary objective was to find out where did he get that coffee, and can I get some too?
The story for the video was that David Gandy dates and beds ladies so that he can steal their Bionda Castana shoes while they're sleeping. This meant other girls were on the shoot for me to hang out with. So we lounged around for several hours entertaining one another. Zoe Buckman, Schwimmer's wife and a producer of our film, was a sweetheart, and made sure we had plenty of yummy treats — and even rapped for us. (Yes, David Schwimmer's wife rapped for me the day I rolled around in bed with David Gandy. I am VERY lucky, this I realize.) Ben Cox, the director, and Schwimmer were very supportive and provided great guidance during our scenes, making it a stress-free work environment. I really had fun sitting, lying, and running around in ridiculously comfortable Bionda Castana boots all day. I lost myself in the world of craft services. Basically, Gandy was the last thing on my mind.
Then came what the people on set dubbed "sexy time" and all of a sudden, faking foreplay with Gandy was all I could think about.
Now, David Gandy is the number one male supermodel in the world for a reason. And it's not just because he really does move in slow motion in real life — the way he probably would in your daydreams. It's because he's truly everything he is supposed to be: a pure sex dream. He needs no direction — he simply needs to be unleashed and allowed to work his magic.
So eventually I find myself lying with Gandy hovering over me. We were supposed to paw at each other. I tried to do some pawing of my own so that Gandy wasn't doing all the work, but my fake glue-on nails kept popping off and getting lost in my hair. The stylists couldn't find them, so I was told not to show my hands. This meant that all I could do was lie there and be seduced by Gandy.
This is me. (Hands-free!)
Gandy slowly slipped off my boots. His eyes did not leave mine as he gently placed his hands under my thigh and stroked my leg, working his way up to my foot. I cringed a bit because at that moment, I thought what every girl would think: Did I shave last night? (I had not, nor the night before, nor the night before that one…)
Suddenly, I realized Gandy was seductively kissing my ankle and foot. I started thinking a million things at once. I wish the Bionda Castana boots were painful so I hadn't kept them on all day. Why didn't I take them off? Weren't we suppose to get pedicures? Why do feet sweat? So many questions.
Gandy's charm distracted me from my insecurities. I don't know if I'm capable of naturally blushing since I always wear a clown-worthy amount of blush, but my face felt flushed, my stomach fluttery, and I had to restrain myself from nervous giggling.
He's so convincingly sexy that if it weren't for David Schwimmer, who was couple of feet from me, giving me direction and much-needed encouragement, I would have completely forgotten I was on a film set. Gandy was very kind, and between takes he indulged my awkward and boring conversation: "How long are you in New York?" "Do you like New York?" "Where you going next?" "What are we doing?"
Female models are constantly told how "gorgeous, beautiful, stunning" they are. So as not to leave him out, the director quipped, "Gandy, you're above average" — which is one way of putting it.
Before the 11-hour day ended, Gandy rushed to the airport — in slow motion — to catch a flight to somewhere fabulous (probably a boat in the crystal-blue sea), where he would continue to smolder and be fabulous (and probably wear tighty-whities). The other women in the film and I shot the "freak-out" scenes where the girls discover that their beloved Bionda Castana shoes have been stolen (by Gandy). And it's a wrap!
The girls all exchanged contact information in order to stay in touch. We did, after all, share a man.
Eventually I did have to shower and wash away David Gandy's caresses. But I took away a very important lesson: When in doubt, just shave. Shave more often than you think you should. Or better yet: Just laser. Because one day, David Gandy might be waiting for you.