(no subject)
there isnt anything exciting in my life except that I live in New York which doesn't count because all I do is stay in with my dogs or walk around and skip parties with peter and/or zach.
maybe its time to leave or maybe I just need to go shopping again.
Peter models and he was recently photographed for a spread in Esquire. He wore his own clothes because the photographer liked his style. Now he is going to get credit in the magazine for it and Esquire stylist business cards which means free clothes. So he is offically becoming a mens stylist. Which means he will now be a photographer, a model, a stylist, and an illustrator.
This got me thinking. I've always wanted to be a stylist or a fashion designer or something in the industry. I chose photography because I thought I'd get more control over everything but I've realized that there are art directors and stylists and editors that do all of that. So maybe, with the help and talent of Peter, we can start a creative talent company. That way I'll get paid to do what i thought I, as a photographer, was suppose to do. It can't be too difficult. I grew up with magazines and fashion and lots and lots of Mario Testino and later on Nylon. I speak of buying superfluous things as if it were a necessary part of life. And I get compliments on those unnecessary things practically everyday. Also, with the right photographer, models look good in just about anything and everything. I guess I"m tooting my own horn here, but I think I can do it. maybe not make it so big that Patti Wilson will be begging me for fashion advice. But big enough to live comfortably.
Michael is coming home in a week. Everyone has left for the hamptons or california and Im here by myself. I have no one to hang out with and im bored out of my mind. I keep promising I will clean my apartment and i cancel plans or deny plans with friends so I can clean but I never clean and my place is a mess and I end up going out to shop or i end up watching old dvds.
I wish michael would come back already so we can go to mongolian and so I can drink the baileys without feeling like such a lonely loser. also, i want sushi.
yesterday i was walking around town with my nipple straight up hanging out of my dress. all day. and not one person said a damn thing. and then i went to the supermarket and dropped a glass bottle and then (after i had discovered my boob was hanging out and put it back in) my boob popped out again right when the glass dropped and everyone turned their head. I wasn't too embarassed. I just felt bad that I made a mess and kind of dumb that my boob was hanging out and i didnt notice.
michael michael michael michael michael. letsgotomongoliannow. i want mongolian. i am hungry for fucking mongolian. yummy mongolian. all i have to eat are sick twisters.
maybe its time to leave or maybe I just need to go shopping again.
Peter models and he was recently photographed for a spread in Esquire. He wore his own clothes because the photographer liked his style. Now he is going to get credit in the magazine for it and Esquire stylist business cards which means free clothes. So he is offically becoming a mens stylist. Which means he will now be a photographer, a model, a stylist, and an illustrator.
This got me thinking. I've always wanted to be a stylist or a fashion designer or something in the industry. I chose photography because I thought I'd get more control over everything but I've realized that there are art directors and stylists and editors that do all of that. So maybe, with the help and talent of Peter, we can start a creative talent company. That way I'll get paid to do what i thought I, as a photographer, was suppose to do. It can't be too difficult. I grew up with magazines and fashion and lots and lots of Mario Testino and later on Nylon. I speak of buying superfluous things as if it were a necessary part of life. And I get compliments on those unnecessary things practically everyday. Also, with the right photographer, models look good in just about anything and everything. I guess I"m tooting my own horn here, but I think I can do it. maybe not make it so big that Patti Wilson will be begging me for fashion advice. But big enough to live comfortably.
Michael is coming home in a week. Everyone has left for the hamptons or california and Im here by myself. I have no one to hang out with and im bored out of my mind. I keep promising I will clean my apartment and i cancel plans or deny plans with friends so I can clean but I never clean and my place is a mess and I end up going out to shop or i end up watching old dvds.
I wish michael would come back already so we can go to mongolian and so I can drink the baileys without feeling like such a lonely loser. also, i want sushi.
yesterday i was walking around town with my nipple straight up hanging out of my dress. all day. and not one person said a damn thing. and then i went to the supermarket and dropped a glass bottle and then (after i had discovered my boob was hanging out and put it back in) my boob popped out again right when the glass dropped and everyone turned their head. I wasn't too embarassed. I just felt bad that I made a mess and kind of dumb that my boob was hanging out and i didnt notice.
michael michael michael michael michael. letsgotomongoliannow. i want mongolian. i am hungry for fucking mongolian. yummy mongolian. all i have to eat are sick twisters.