Oh yuck, do over, right?
There, that's better. This is Kelly. She is not a model. Any more. She's segueing into a position with Ignite Models as a coordinator of new faces, as they say in the biz. She is very convincing. For example, I did not question when she looked at the first photo and opted for a do-over.
Trying to imagine what it would be like to find the first photo unacceptable in any way (other than the 12 crayon quality provided by my point n shoot camera). She's not blinking, her nose is not throwing a shadow resembling the Guthrie. If she has a goiter, she's done wonders with contouring. I tried so hard to imagine going to the DMV to get tabs for my car looking like this, smoke started coming from my ears and my eye bags vibrated, so i gave the old imagination a rest and let stuff come in through the eyeballs and out through the slightly ajar pie hole without so much as a Hold it right there sucka.
A little explanation.
I volunteered to help get models into and out of tights, corsets, bunny heads, neck ruffs, very high shoes, and eight-layered Elizabethan jester costumes very quickly over a 20-minute period. I know, Mother Theresa was a frickin pretender. Let's not forget, I had to hang up two detachable collars and place a helmet on a table too. This was backstage at the Mystique 2012 tea and crunkettes held at the Epic Event Center on New Year's Eve. I did thisout of the goodness of my heart because I got in free, and so did my guest, Lady Gaga Dennis. To differentiate the evening from just another 27-hour rave, we went substance-free and wore underpants!
This, in sharp contrast to the other 4000 wicked baked revelers. I was shocked, shocked i tell you, not by visible vulvas and canapes in close proximity (don't eat the sushi!), but by the universality of the uniform. The lack of creativity! I searched and searched -- nothing but pubes peeking out of a charming bit of lycra/poly picked up for $12.99 at By The Hour. There were a few notable exceptions (thanks Jenny D!) but by far and away, New Year's Eve rang in short, tight and wasted. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Are those lounge chairs washable?
Trying to imagine what it would be like to find the first photo unacceptable in any way (other than the 12 crayon quality provided by my point n shoot camera). She's not blinking, her nose is not throwing a shadow resembling the Guthrie. If she has a goiter, she's done wonders with contouring. I tried so hard to imagine going to the DMV to get tabs for my car looking like this, smoke started coming from my ears and my eye bags vibrated, so i gave the old imagination a rest and let stuff come in through the eyeballs and out through the slightly ajar pie hole without so much as a Hold it right there sucka.
A little explanation.
I volunteered to help get models into and out of tights, corsets, bunny heads, neck ruffs, very high shoes, and eight-layered Elizabethan jester costumes very quickly over a 20-minute period. I know, Mother Theresa was a frickin pretender. Let's not forget, I had to hang up two detachable collars and place a helmet on a table too. This was backstage at the Mystique 2012 tea and crunkettes held at the Epic Event Center on New Year's Eve. I did this
This, in sharp contrast to the other 4000 wicked baked revelers. I was shocked, shocked i tell you, not by visible vulvas and canapes in close proximity (don't eat the sushi!), but by the universality of the uniform. The lack of creativity! I searched and searched -- nothing but pubes peeking out of a charming bit of lycra/poly picked up for $12.99 at By The Hour. There were a few notable exceptions (thanks Jenny D!) but by far and away, New Year's Eve rang in short, tight and wasted. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Are those lounge chairs washable?
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