When Hayley Marie Coppin's agent rang asking for her measurements, she decided to take the request very, very literally. Armed with a fabric tape measure and an irrepressible grin, she retreats to her bright white bathroom and sets about the task with tremendous dedication, running the tape over every curve while dressed in a pristine white bra and matching white knickers. The bathroom light floods everything in a clean, luminous glow, and Hayley crouches and stretches and tilts her head with the pencil tucked between her teeth, looking for all the world like the world's most gorgeous and least reliable assistant.
The numbers, of course, are irrelevant. What matters is the slow, unhurried process of exploration as the white bra is unhooked and the knickers slip away, the tape measure tracing paths across bare skin that no agent's call sheet ever quite captured. By the time she's done, Hayley has absolutely no idea what measurements she was supposed to report back, but she is absolutely certain she had fun finding out. Whatever the figures, the result is flawless.