More indirectly, these connivers, known in other walks by an ugly four-letter word, get by through carrying files of desirable phone numbers.
Some of these characters have "pocket" businesses, such as the sale of diamonds or furs, and every time they complete an introduction to a money-man, the patron is expected to buy a hunk of jewelry or a neck-piece from the go-between, as a gift to the gal.
No classification or occupation is faked as much as that of model.
Many have filed their names with one of the big agents, maybe even done a couple of jobs. But they soon find other means to make money, less arduous than standing on their feet eight hours a day under hot Kleig lights, more steady than awaiting calls for their type.
The term "model" is loosely kicked around in New York and it covers a multitude of skins.
It's difficult for a stranger to meet a real one—that is, unless he has friends in one of the allied businesses, such as advertising, publicity or art.
We are, of course, referring to photographers' models.
There are classifications—much larger—of the ones who model fashions. They should be called mannequins, but that seems a word used only in Paris.
Every wholesale house in the huge cloak and suit industry employs at least one model and all the swank retail stores have whole staffs.