It’s ironic that I felt more exposed in turning down a lingerie-modeling job then I would have if I had taken my clothes off.

Why I even considered lingerie modeling, let alone went on an interview, is not the issue, however.

The photographer who “interviewed” me (which included just signing a release form) wore a logo on his shirt that I was not familiar with. It read: “Naughty America.” I figured it was just a shirt.

His hat, however, bore the same burning words. Maybe it’s just a hat and a shirt.

Maybe this was a mistake. How did I end up here?

I found the ad in the classifieds of The Daily Aztec: “Amateur lingerie models wanted. No experience necessary. Cash paid same day. Call Moriah.”

I needed cash and a self-esteem boost. Who wouldn’t feel good picturing themselves as a Victoria’s Secret model? And I’d done some work for small films and photo projects and had headshots done, so I called.

The woman who answered the phone was very helpful. Moriah told me that they preferred to work with amateurs because they came off more natural. It seemed like a rare find. At no cost to me, they would help me put together a portfolio to send out. They were also willing to work with my schedule.

It all seemed perfect.

And if it seems too good to be true ? it’s probably porn.

I know what you must be thinking: “Didn’t she see this coming?” Well, forgive me for having a somewhat naive, Catholic upbringing. And Moriah never did clarify that the lingerie modeling her company did was for a catalog, but instead Internet sites and videos.

I didn’t start to question the company until I saw the photographer’s shirt. And even then, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

My panicked realization only set in when I stared at the release form that I was supposed to sign. The “interview” was basically getting me to sign by the dotted line. The contract stated questions that asked if I was comfortable doing nudity.

What was I to do – sneak out while he was on the phone? No, I figured I’d be an adult about it and politely tell him I wasn’t interested. But I can just picture some poor girl signing out of pressure with all the confusion and tension in the room – and perhaps lack of money.

My concern based on this experience is that a girl could be signing a contract before she fully understands what that contract entails. I drove all the way down to Lemon Grove before I figured out what was going on because Moriah didn’t tell me. Perhaps I might have signed a small but meaningful piece of paper had the photographer been wearing a different shirt.

Should a college newspaper advertise for such a company?

We’re in college now. Shouldn’t we feel free to pursue more adult things if we want to, or at least have the opportunity? Do students read the newspaper with the understanding that there could be adult content within? What about freedom of speech and freedom of expression?

Then again, The Daily Aztec is a college newspaper, meaning it concerns an educational institution. Doesn’t that institution and its paper, though it is independent and student- run, have a responsibility to protect students from situations and people that could take advantage of them if it’s within their power, even if that just means refusing to run an ad? Maybe people read the paper and think that it can’t be that bad because it’s in The Daily Aztec.

I’m still low on cash. Sometimes I entertain the thought that I could’ve become their star and then I would not have to worry about things like money. After all, you could pretty much talk yourself into anything, given enough time and exposure. But I try not to think about how close I came.

-Emily Malebranche is a journalism junior and a contributor for The Daily Aztec.

-This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.