American Model in Japan · 🎬 Memoir Skool 📸

Cristal Vancarson

🔥

2d (edited) • ✨ Season 1: The Story Begins

American Model in Japan

@Carl Morgan

#Tokyo 1986 with Carl ✈️

CBS Special:

American Models in Japan

(1986)

I remember standing at a payphone in Tokyo when my agent told me the news.

“An American film crew is coming today,” she said casually, like this happened every day. “They’re filming a special — American Models in Japan. They want to film you and do an interview.”

“Oh, okay,” I said. No problem.

That was my standard response back then. I was young, fearless, and half pretending I understood what I was doing anyway.

What I didn’t know — what no one warned me about — was that I was walking straight into one of the most embarrassing fashion shows of my life.

I was never a runway model. Not even close. I was a print girl, a personality, someone who connected through the camera — not someone bouncing down a catwalk in theatrical outfits. In twenty years, I only got accidentally thrown into fashion shows three times. Honestly, that’s not bad odds.

But this one?

This one was unforgettable.

The outfit was the silliest thing I had ever seen — loud, awkward, completely not me — and somehow there I was, bouncing around on stage in Tokyo with a beach ball while an American camera crew captured everything.

I remember thinking, Of all days for them to show up…

And I’m pretty sure my Japanese boyfriend at the time — the one connected to the Yakuza world — was sitting somewhere in the audience watching the whole thing unfold. That thought alone makes me laugh now.

After the show, I escaped backstage and threw on my leather jacket — my armor, my real self. Suddenly I felt like me again.

They sat me down in a director’s chair, cameras rolling.

“What do you love about Japan?” they asked.

Without thinking, I blurted out, “I rich, I rich. Tokyo make me rich.”

I cringe just writing that now.

They asked another question.

I looked around and said, “Everyone has brown hair and brown eyes.”

I was young. I was trying to explain how different I felt there — how visible I was — but the words came out wrong, innocent and awkward and completely unfiltered.

And that was the moment they captured forever.

Later, my cousin bought a copy of the video for $45 — which somehow turned into a full family argument about who owned it. One cousin said they had it, then my uncle said he took it, and somewhere along the way the tape disappeared into family mythology.

Where is that video now?

I honestly don’t know.

Maybe it’s sitting in a box somewhere, waiting for me to see that younger version of myself again — the girl who said yes to everything, who didn’t know how she sounded yet, who was still learning how to be seen.

Looking back, I don’t feel embarrassed anymore.

I feel tenderness.

Because that girl was brave enough to show up, even when she didn’t belong on that runway.

And sometimes that’s the real story — not looking perfect, but being willing to be seen anyway.

0:06

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