Fine print fills Gap between kids and models

By Beth Teitell
Tuesday, December 3, 2002

Like all decent people, I'm horrified by stage parents. Don't they know it's wrong to live out their fantasies through their offspring? To force a child to spend hours performing or playing a sport when the kid just wants to be a kid?

Really, some people shouldn't be allowed to procreate.

Or perhaps I'm being too harsh. Maybe the Kit Culkins and the Teri Shields of the world simply want to help their children reach their potential, and share their gift.

Well, that's what I told myself Sunday, as I double-parked outside a Baby Gap and raced in to sign up my two sons for the Gap Casting Call, frantic to meet the Dec. 1 deadline.

``I'm glad you're not above a little exploitation,'' my mom said (sincerely).

Exploiting? Hey, I'm an MFA member, an independent-book-store shopper, a shade-tree coffee-drinker. I'm not ``exploiting,'' I'm helping my boys soar to new heights (in Gap denim).

Because the models in question are ages 1 and 2, and hence have terrible handwriting, my husband and I channeled their thoughts for the entry forms. ``The Gap lets me be me,'' my 2-year-old son began. On his form, the 1-year-old noted that his Gap overalls let him ``run with the big boys'' but still look baby enough to get his cheeks pinched while out in the stroller.

``Don't bother entering,'' I told a mother looking for the contest drop-off box at the same time I was on Sunday. ``I've got two winners right here.''

Technically, of course, I won't know for sure until Thursday. That's when the Gap jurists alert up to 36 adult and child semi-finalists. My only concern is that the esteemed panel won't name two kids from the same family as semi-finalists. (Actually, even if they did - invoking the ``extreme cuteness'' clause - only one boy could be the eventual winner, and then I'd feel bad for the other one.)

But even so, I'm thinking positive, imagining traveling the world to help my little supermodel with his new career, putting aside my own life's calling to accompany him to photo shoots in Hawaii, Tuscany, Australia. I can see myself now, hanging out in Leno's green room, wearing Prada and DKNY bought with the Gap bounty, while my little star is on stage, enhancing his education.

``You know the Gap doesn't pay anything, right?'' a friend said when I mentioned my kids' new careers.

No pay?

I went to Gap.com and read the fine print. It turned out that the ``no monetary compensation'' part was the least of my problems.

Entrants (or their legal guardians) are required to sign an ``Affadavit of Eligibility, Liability and Publicity Release'' that allows the Gap to seek investigative reports attesting to a semi-finalist's ``character and general reputation.''

I called my husband. ``They want the right to interview people about the winners,'' I said.

I could hear the panic in his voice. ``We've got to get to (our former nanny) and pay her off,'' he said.

But the fine print got even worse. The semi-finalists (and an accompanying adult) are flown COACH to some (unannounced) location. Which means . . . a plane trip with a toddler.

``That sounds like the old joke,'' a friend who didn't enter her 2-year-old said. ``And second place is two plane trips.''

Even so, I'm willing to make the sacrifice. But now that I've gone this far, my boys had better not grow up to be rich and famous and then turn on me like those ingrates Meg Ryan and Drew Barrymore and Macaulay Culkin did on their parents.

Boys, Mommy has something to say to you: Don't forget what Eminem's mother did after he accused her of smoking dope, being mentally unstable and lazy in a best-selling CD. She sued for $10 million.

So let's all play nice, OK, and nobody will get hurt.