We posted an “Open Lettters” comic about American Apparel advertising the other day, calling it a 9.4 on a scale of one to sleazy. Then we high-fived. Shortly after it went up, I got a quick note from my friend Claire, telling me that she couldn’t support this particular comic. I didn’t know what that meant, exactly, so I wrote her back and asked whether a.) she was a fan of American Apparel b.) she didn’t think it was funny c.) she didn’t think they were sleazy d.) she thought our art was distasteful, etc., etc. Her response was unexpected and to the point: “I used to be an AA model.” This wasn’t exactly the reasoning I was expecting. You never really expect an American Apparel model to write to you, when you generally just see them on the back pages of alternative weeklies. And this, to me, was truly fascinating. Here was Claire, a friend of mine, and somehow in all the time I had known her, that aspect of her life had never come up. I immediately begged for an interview in the interest of serving my curiosity and the greater good, whatever that greater good may be. After all, who knows what sociology classes will be studying 50 years from now? She finally relented when I sent her a note saying “please” over and over again. I guess journalism school is finally paying off. So without further ado, here is part one in an e-mail interview with an American Apparel model who is now attending Vassar:

Jory: How did this modeling gig for American Apparel come about?

Claire: I originally applied for a job in a store over the internet in the summer of 2005. You have the option of attaching a picture to your application, which I did. A few days later I got an email from Dov [Charney, CEO of American Apparel], asking me if I was interested in modeling instead. I emailed him back something to the extent of, “Holy shit,” and included my phone number. While driving to the beach a day or so later, Dov called my cell phone and we chatted a while. He explained the whole AA aesthetic and he asked if I was comfortable with being risque, to which I replied, “Sure.” And honestly, I really didn’t care. Later I discussed it with my mom, who is beyond liberal, and told me that I was young and should do it even if it’s just to laugh about it later, like now, for instance.

What was a modeling session like?

Well, about a week later, I went downtown, expecting to just meet Dov and to discuss my future as an AA model. Immediately, he swept me to in his office and began frantically discussing everything: controversies, the future, the past, boobs, good working conditions, and a lot of emphasis on pushing the envelope. I felt like there was a strong “Damn the man!” vibe going on, but I took it all in stride. Besides, it was pretty surreal. Then, without warning, Dov threw some clothes at me, asked me to throw them on, and then he started photographing me in his office. It wasn’t at all creepy — he left me to change alone and there were a bunch of other people in there during the shoot — and I actually really like/d Dov.

Then I was sent downstairs to the actual studio where the biggest iTunes library ever was blasting some of the greatest music … and I was in love. I changed into about thirty shirts and took photo after photo with Anthony, an AA photographer. After a few hours, I went back upstairs, thanked Dov, and went home. I was summoned back a week or so later to do more shots, which I did. Some ran as ads in the LA Times, others in stores, and more on the website. The whole time, though, I never felt as if I was compromising my integrity. If I wasn’t comfortable with a position, I didn’t do it — simple as that.

What was Dov like?

He never hassled me and he was never, ever creepy. To this day, we still talk occasionally on the phone when he calls to check up on me. However, Dov is a highly sexual being. I can’t deny that fact. While I just laughed at him and saw it as his throwback personality, I can see how other people would be shocked and offended. I guess the best way to explain him is that Dov is perpetually that risque idealist who is the center of attention at a sex-filled, fashion-filled party in the 70’s. You want to talk to him and when he does speak to you, no matter how shocking, you can’t help but listen and keep listening …

(More soon.)