Warning: NSFW
I care too much about this spread to make a cheap no_shirts post about it, so it's going in here. Besides, Jessica Stam made it okay for models to post pictures of themselves in their journals. I'm naked. Partially naked. I'm in Levi denim shorts and American Apparel undies and a pendant snatched from my own jewelry box the morning of the shoot. Otherwise naked. Juergen Teller took a whole bunch of us "older" models and made us as real looking as he could, then shot us, then printed us in the latest issue of W. We all look hideous. That photo shows me without makeup or covered up tan lines, and that is how my hair looks when I towel dry it. So, that's my hair. Those are my tattoos not being airbrushed out. Those are my pale pale lips and breasts. And I'm 5'8", not 5'11". I don't know, I think I look kinda hot. I felt hot.
Today I'm 30 something and to celebrate this year in basking in my age, I'm doing more charity work than ever. My latest approach is finding the most interesting way to give my money away. Last week I played video games with a bunch of video game playing lesbians. This week I'm taking my clothes off (again). For Marc Jacobs. But really for skin cancer awareness. How I could have been chosen for such a thing, considering I live in the sun, I have no idea. Perhaps they wanted me to be most aware of all. But I'm among a slew of models posing nude for Brain Bowen Smith and allowing this nude photo to go on a T-shirt. Marc Jacobs works for Louis Vuitton and the CEO of Louis Vuitton recently lost a very close friend to skin cancer so you know what, I'm doing it and I'm using a higher SPF from now on. It's weird how I'm compulsive about it when it comes to my kid but somehow I let it slide with myself. Also, do yourselves a favor and pic up an October issue of Women's Health, Harper's Bazaar, Town & Country or Elle magazines. I'll be in a new Anne Klein public service ad wearing a pink cashmere sweater only sold at Neiman, all proceeds going to The Breast Cancer Research Foundation. If you're at a Neiman Marcus please check out these sweaters, they're going for $295 each and it's for a good cause.
I'm done, I swear to you I'm done begging you to care about my charity work. So I'd moved to New York for several months throughout the Winter mostly for work, partially to try and mend a broken heart. Remember Cher's character in Mermaids and how flighty of a woman she was and how she'd move to a new town every time she broke up with a man? Like that would solve all her problems and make her somehow feel better. Yeah, I'm like her. It's disgusting and exhausting and not very fair to my child. I made the cover of the latest Town & Country Magazine, not standard but I wanted it, mostly because they actually wanted to sit down and speak to me. I got to talk about my brother and my kid and where I grew up. My new house in Venice is the third home I've owned in the four years I've lived in California. So help me God this will be it. Kindergarten starts soon and that's real school. I had a military dad who had us moving back and forth my entire life, and that shit gets old really fast. I don't want to be my parents. I just want this to work. Responsibility is a real slap in the face isn't it kids? But I tell myself this is great, being thirty something is great. Happy fucking birthday to me.
I hadn't spoken to her in so many months, maybe even a year. One thing I value in my friends is their ability accept me being a flake. I sit here and write about myself because I don't talk to anyone. I am that busy. But when I spoke to her and she needed me there just wasn't any room to give a shit about all that lost time. I knew I kept my place in Manhattan for a reason. Yeah, for work, but for shit like this too. I told her I'd visit with ABBA records and a bowl, and she told me we'd run around town like a couple of modern lesbians.
We did. And now I've lost track of her again. How fucking easy.