Sheli Jeffry is looking for magnificence. As a scout for Portage, one of the world’s top model organizations, Jeffry look over to 200 young ladies each Thursday evening. Inside organization base camp in New York, choice appearances gaze down from the fronts of Vogue, Charm, and Harper’s Marketplace. Outside, youthful hopefuls hang tight for their opportunity of a lifetime.

Jeffry is searching for level: no less than five feet nine (1.8 meters). She’s searching for youth: 13 to 19 years of age. She’s searching for the right body type.

What is the right body type?

“Dainty,” she says. “You know, the thin young ladies in school who ate every one of the cheeseburgers and milk shakes they needed and didn’t acquire an ounce. Essentially, they’re holders for garments.”

In a year, Jeffry will assess a few thousand countenances. Of those, five or six will be tried. Excellence compensates fairly. A starting model makes $1,500 every day; those in the top level, $25,000; stratospheric supermodels, like Naomi Campbell, multiple times that. For more information please visit

Jeffry welcomes the principal up-and-comer in.

“Do you like the camera?” she asks Jessica from New Jersey. “I love it. I’ve for practically forever needed to be a model,” Jessica says, radiating like a klieg light.

Others appear to be less sure. Marsha from California needs to look at the East Coast flows, while Andrea from Manhattan is curious as to whether she has the stuff to be a runway star. (Try not to surrender a slam dunk like a well-paying Money Road work for this shot in the dark, Jeffry prompts.)

The line decreases. Faces fall and tears well as the refrain “You’re not what we’re searching for the present moment” smothers the discussion — and trust.

You’re not what we’re searching for …

Defied with this, Rebecca from Provision throws her dim hair and inquires: “What are you searching for? Could you at any point tell me precisely?”

Jeffry meets the restless, practically hawkish, tone with a made mumble. “It’s difficult to say. I know it when I see it.”

What is excellence? We grab around the edges of the inquiry as though attempting to get a toe-hang on a cloud.

“I’m doing a story on magnificence,” I tell a planned meeting. “By whose definition?” he snaps.

Characterize excellence? One should analyze a cleanser bubble. We know it when we see it — or so we think. Rationalists outline it as an ethical condition. What is wonderful is great, said Plato. Artists go after the grand. “Magnificence is truth, truth excellence,” composed John Keats, despite the fact that Anatole France thought magnificence “more significant than truth itself.”

Others are more concrete. “Individuals come to me and say: ‘Specialist, make me wonderful,'” a plastic specialist uncovers. “What they are requesting is high cheekbones and a more grounded jaw.”

Science inspects excellence and articulates it a technique. “Excellence is wellbeing,” a therapist tells me. “It’s a board saying ‘I’m solid and ripe. I can pass on your qualities.” For more information please visit

At its ideal, magnificence celebrates. From the Txikão champion in Brazil painted in panther like spots to Madonna in her metal bra, mankind revels in the opportunity to shed its regular skin and take on the appearance of an all the more impressive, heartfelt, or hot being.