The mid-2010s were a weird time for reality television. We were moving past the "simple life" era and diving head-first into the "nepo baby" phenomenon before we even had a catchy name for it. At the center of that whirlwind was the Growing Up Supermodel TV show. It aired on Lifetime back in 2017, and honestly, if you blinked, you might have missed it. But for those who watched, it was this bizarre, sometimes cringey, and deeply fascinating look at what happens when the children of 80s and 90s icons try to claim a throne they didn't necessarily build themselves.
It wasn't just about walking a runway.
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It was about the crushing weight of a last name. You had kids like Cambrie and Faith Schroder (daughters of Ricky Schroder), Atiana De La Hoya (daughter of Shanna Moakler and Oscar De La Hoya), and Arissa LeBrock (daughter of Kelly LeBrock and Steven Seagal) all trying to navigate a world that was already judging them before they stepped out of the car. The show tried to capture that lightning in a bottle—the glamour, the tears, and the inevitable "do you know who my parents are?" energy.
The Reality of Growing Up Supermodel
Let’s be real for a second. The Growing Up Supermodel TV show wasn't exactly The September Issue. It was produced by Evolution Media—the same powerhouse behind The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills—so you knew exactly what you were getting. High-octane drama. Polished lighting. Strategic casting.
The premise was simple: take a group of aspiring models with famous parents and see if they have the "it" factor to make it on their own. But the industry doesn't work like that anymore. In the era of Kendall Jenner and the Hadid sisters, the bar for celebrity children had been raised to an impossible height. The show highlighted the friction between the veteran parents, who remembered a time of film cameras and supermodel "tribes," and the kids, who were obsessed with Instagram followers and digital clout.
Take Arissa LeBrock, for instance. She was one of the most compelling figures on the show because she didn't fit the "heroin chic" or "waif" mold that her mother, Kelly LeBrock, famously occupied in the 80s. Arissa was pursuing plus-size modeling, and the show didn't shy away from the tension that caused. It wasn't just about fashion; it was about body image, maternal expectations, and the reality that the industry is often crueler than the viewers realize.
Who stayed and who faded away?
It’s been years since the cameras stopped rolling.
Where are they now?
Atiana De La Hoya has probably had the most visible trajectory, though not strictly in the way the show predicted. She’s become a massive social media personality and artist, often seen hanging out with the Barker/Kardashian clan (Travis Barker is her former stepfather). She seems to have found a balance between the spotlight and her own creative identity that feels much more authentic than the structured "modeling" arcs we saw on Lifetime.
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The Schroder sisters, Cambrie and Faith, have pivoted significantly too. Cambrie launched "Fit with Cambrie," a lifestyle and wellness brand that leaned into the influencer-to-entrepreneur pipeline. It’s a classic move. When the runway doesn't call, you build your own platform. Faith has continued to dabble in acting and modeling, maintaining a steady presence in the LA scene.
Then there’s Cairo Peele, daughter of supermodel Beverly Peele. On the show, Cairo was often portrayed as the one with the most "traditional" model potential, but the friction with her mother—who was navigating her own complex legacy—was palpable. It serves as a reminder that having a supermodel mother is a double-edged sword. You get the genes, sure, but you also get the ghost of their 1992 Vogue cover haunting every casting call you attend.
Why the show struggled to find an audience
If we’re being honest, the Growing Up Supermodel TV show struggled because it felt a little late to the party. By 2017, the audience was already savvy. We knew how the sausage was made. We had seen America's Next Top Model deconstruct the industry for over twenty seasons. We had seen the Kardashians dominate the "famous for being famous" niche.
The show tried to lean into the drama, but sometimes it felt forced.
The "drama" between the parents often overshadowed the kids' careers. Seeing Shanna Moakler or Kelly LeBrock navigate the industry in their 40s and 50s was actually, in many ways, more interesting than watching the teenagers struggle with a photoshoot. There’s a specific kind of pathos in a former icon watching their child enter a meat grinder that they themselves helped build.
The show also suffered from a lack of a clear "prize." In Top Model, you won a contract. In Growing Up Supermodel, the prize was... visibility? In a world saturated with influencers, visibility is cheap. Longevity is what’s expensive. Most of the cast members were already wealthy and somewhat "visible" by birthright. Without the "rags to riches" stakes, some viewers found it hard to root for kids who were complaining about a casting call while sitting in a Malibu mansion.
The Nepo Baby discourse before it was a meme
Looking back, this show was a precursor to the massive "Nepo Baby" debate that took over the internet in 2022 and 2023. It laid bare the mechanics of privilege. You see the doors opening—the agents who take the call because they know the father, the photographers who give an extra five minutes because they used to date the mother.
But the show also inadvertently proved that doors opening isn't the same as staying in the room.
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You can get the meeting, but you can’t make the camera love you. You can’t manufacture charisma. Watching Janus Hunter (son of actor Steve Guttenberg) or Jake Moritt navigate the peripheral of the fashion world was a lesson in the reality of the hustle. Even with a "name," the industry is fickle. It’s a brutal business that eats its young, regardless of who their parents are.
Actionable insights for fans and aspiring creators
If you’re looking back at the Growing Up Supermodel TV show today, or if you’re a creator interested in the reality TV space, there are a few things to take away from its brief run.
The shift from traditional modeling to personal branding
The show was filmed right as the industry was fundamentally changing. Today, you don't "become" a model through a reality show; you become a brand on TikTok or Instagram and the modeling contracts follow. If you're an aspiring model, your portfolio is your social feed.
The importance of a "hook" beyond fame
For a reality show to survive in the current landscape, it needs more than just famous names. It needs a transformational arc. The most successful shows right now involve people building something or overcoming a specific, relatable hurdle.
Legacy is a burden, not just a boost
If you're interested in the psychology of celebrity, the show is a great case study. It highlights the "imposter syndrome" that often plagues children of icons. If you’re ever feeling behind in your own career, remember that even these kids—with every advantage—were terrified of not living up to a shadow cast thirty years ago.
Documenting the era
The show remains a time capsule of 2017 fashion and social media culture. It’s worth a re-watch if you want to see the exact moment the "influencer" and "model" labels began to merge into one singular, confusing career path.
For those looking to find the episodes, they occasionally pop up on streaming platforms like Hulu or the Lifetime app, though they aren't always in permanent rotation. It’s a short binge—only one season—but it’s a dense look at a very specific niche of the American dream.
Instead of looking for a second season that will likely never happen, look toward the current careers of the cast. They’ve mostly moved on to more authentic ventures. Following Atiana De La Hoya’s art or Cambrie Schroder’s fitness journey provides a much clearer picture of "growing up" than the edited reality of a TV set ever could. If you want to understand the modern celebrity machine, stop looking at the runway and start looking at how these individuals have diversified their "heritage" into sustainable, modern businesses. That is the real success story that the cameras missed.
The lesson is simple. A name gets you in the door. Hard work keeps you there. But in the world of the Growing Up Supermodel TV show, sometimes the most interesting thing you can do is walk out of the door and build your own house.