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The Prettiest Boy in the World


He said it took him seven months of working to become self-sustaining. In the year since reaching that milestone, he’s worked all around the world, never staying longer than a few weeks in any one place. He’s lived in model apartments, slept on friends’ sofas, been put up by agencies. “You can only have so much of a base in this job because it is very transient just by its nature, but it would be nice to have a place to put my stuff, kind of call home,” he said. He hopes in the next few months to be able to settle in New York—“I mean, all the big girls live here”—but plans to live with roommates.

Though he once joked to a reporter that he’d get a sex change if that would secure him a Victoria’s Secret campaign (“You’d kind of have to, wouldn’t you?”), he knows his look will never become commercial enough to command that kind of money, nor is a sex change something he’s really considering. “Obviously, as a kid you’d think about it—What would life be like if I was born a girl? and stuff. But at this point, I’m happy with the situation as it is.”

Already, Pejic’s success has prompted copycats, agencies scrambling to fill their rosters with sweet-faced boys with peroxide hair. “Since we have him, we are inundated with requests,” Werts said. “People think the floodgates will open.”

Knowing the fashion world’s obsession with the perpetually new, Pejic is saving his money and contemplating how to ­parlay his good fortune into something else: maybe a ­reality-TV show, maybe a book, maybe Hollywood. Still, on the hotel roof that night, with the cinematic view and the flashing bulbs and the jobs booked well into the future, there was at least the whiff of longevity.

“Everybody wants to be a part of the moment,” Werts said emphatically. “And he’s very good at prolonging every moment.”

“Yeah,” Pejic added. “When you think I’m going down, I’ll come back with a sex tape, do you know what I mean? I’d bring in latex, make it really fashion, really artsy. Do a proper sex tape.”

“You would have a stylist involved.”

“Oh, I would bring it out,” Pejic said, raising a glass of pink Champagne.


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