A model in a catwalk show hasn’t personally selected the clothes – in a way, and their composure stands for the designers. They must look unconcerned, unshakeable, able to move effortlessly, and assert good control over hands and facial muscles as they pull off a trick of trust on the designer’s behalf. They should not exude personality, which would be unacceptable because it may detract from the garments, and indeed the personality of the designer as represented by those garments. After all, they’re “model.” Nor do they seek acceptance, which implies a lack of confidence about what is actually ‘correct.’ A model required to navigate the room in something that theoretically makes them feel stupid must have an aspect of personal dignity at stake, but the designer is on trial. In something outlandish, the designer’s slip might interpret a smiling model as embarrassed or amused. If the set explodes, Whoever’s House loses not only face but fortune. So the models can’t smile. Whatever else happens in their hearts, they have to place their lips on unearthly disapproving and unbending confidence – and just hope they don’t go over