Sunday, November 15, 2009

about me. (with disclaimer)

Disclaimer: In case you haven't heard, I'm batshit crazy...but you like it. A lot, as a matter of fact.

One can't help but feel a little conceited when they step back and look their life in terms of how many times they being any given sentence with the word "I." Everyone's got a story to tell and while some are undoubtedly more interesting than others, everyone's got something to say. I don't want to be one of those people who spends all my time thinking about I, Me, Mine and not enough time actually doing anything. Those people are ZERO fun. No one wants to be zero fun.

But, I guess people are interested. Enough to read this blog. Enough to email me questions and comments and lurk me up on Facebook and Twitter and Model Mayhem...and that's enough for me. A little interest goes a long way.

I can hear the critics now. "She thought she could use her popularity as a model and supposed artist to pawn herself off as a pseudo-intellectual and sell some ideas. Knowing her and knowing the hard work she put into learning to read, we thought this seemed harmless so we shan't begrudge her an extra two minutes in the light."

Since you can always trust me to be honest with you, my anonymous reader. You are the closest thing I think the world can come to an impartial confidante outside the pen and paper. Someone is listening, and that's all you need to know. I like the idea.

Quasi-Buddhist, neo-transcendentalist, extropian apologist, itenerant artist, general creative, au courant hippie-type, informed citizen, rock and roller by blood, model by trade, actress by nature.

this is what I look like on a regular day. I don't spend a lot of time sprucing up unless I've got somewhere to be. As long as I'm clean and I smell alright, I'm usually good to go. I'm not uptight about myself.
I don't take myself too seriously. I think that's the worst quality a person can have.
I like to be comfortable when I'm not working. I'm a hole-y denim girl all the way. Being glammed up is great, but it's not something I do when I don't have to.
I usually don't even wear makeup on my day-to-day.
After I wash my face, I put on some oil-free moisterizer, maybe some eyeliner, maybe some mascara, and a little chapstick and a tiny amount of clear, shiny lipgloss.
I'm pretty low-maintenence.

In terms of fashion and style: 
A person needs to feel comfortable and beautiful in their own skin.
Everything else will come secondary to that.
You can't develop a sense of your personal fashion if you don't know and love your bones.

I don't know. Maybe I suck. But how does one know if one sucks? I mean, how do you ever really know if you're any good at what you do? The only real gauge of our abilities is the feedback we get from our peers, but they are subject to the same relativist principles as the rest of us. And anyway, masses of people paying compliment to you or your work in whatever form it might take, could indeed be a further indication of your suck-dom! For, isn't it true that the masses are asses?

I have just come to realize that I am a complaining piece of shit. The only things I can think to write about are my numerous complaints and grievances that I am too humble and reserved to speak aloud. I guess I could. Just complain out loud like the rest of the world, I mean. But that would make me feel like the rest of the world. Outward and out of line.

I have always felt that an impartial confidante couldn't exist in a human being. One that didn't charge by the hour, at least. So, I have become something of an introvert who spills the milk to one and only source. The page. The pen. This blog (well, three).  
And how vain of me to do so.

AGE: 23
CLAIM TO FAME:  model, aspiring actress, face of Legacy Apparel and Legacy Fashion Brand
PROUDEST MOMENT, SO FAR: Not passing out when I met (famous fashion photographer) Micah Willis and not dying on the spot when I learned he would be shooting me many times throughout the campaign.

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