Category Archives: Model Life

Blogger Style, Confessions of a Stylist, Model Life, Prolific Quarterly, Sorry I'm No Sorry

Re-Inspire, Re-Boot, Re-Start

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When I was little, I had an idea in my head of who I wanted to be when I grew up.  We all did.  Except, my vision was always so much different than my friend’s.  I can remember hearing them talk about where they wanted to get married, how may children they would have, what their names would be…  I had names, too.  Only they were the names of the countries I wanted to see.  Names of the designers I would work for.  And the names of the labels my closet would contain.

Fast forward to now.

Many of my friends would go on to bring their dreams to life.  Most are happily married now, with the children they had wished for.  And while their names may have changed (Cinderella seems like a good idea when your 8…), the overall vision of their future is pretty much what they had hoped for.  And even if it wasn’t the path I chose for myself, I could not be any happier for them, and the beautiful families they have now brought to a warm and loving reality.

And then there’s me…

Now before you start to think this is a pity post about missing out, I regret to inform you that I have absolutely no intention of doing any such thing, as I harbor no disappointment with myself, or my life.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I’m proud of the things I’ve accomplished, especially within the last few years.  I’m proud of the chances I took, and the decisions I have made.

Above all, I’m proud of who I am as a person.

But nevertheless, there has always been one specific area within my life that had room for drastic improvement.  Or, rather, the strength and bravery to completely change it.  And that area was my career.  And trust me- I’m being kind by even using the word “career” to describe it.  Because it was never a career to being with.  What started out as simple desire to make some money fresh out of college turned into a 10 year journey of… absolutely nothing.  Those of you who have been involved with retail can relate to my pain.  You can relate to the brutal hours.  You’re familiar with the sacrifice of your social life.  And for one reason or another, its a life that seems impossible to escape.

Here are just a few reasons I can personally give you.

You see, most of us grew up with parents who told you that if you wanted to be something in life, you needed to work hard.  Really hard.  Or, you needed to work hard now so you could play hard later.  But what they don’t tell you though is that there IS a difference between working hard to fulfill your own dreams, and working hard to simply build someone else’s.

And that’s exactly what I was doing.

Sure, I’ve made a good living.  I’ve been able to support myself, even when it seemed unlikely.  But while I was making that very living… I wasn’t actually living.  I would often joke to people and tell them I had two jobs- one that paid the bills, and one that paid for the experiences.

Retail was my paycheck.

And being a stylist was my escape.

It was being a stylist that kept my original dream alive.  It was modeling that offered me the occasional escape.  And it was through writing that I was able to stay inspired and focused on what I wanted to be.

On WHO I wanted to be.

And so… I quit.  I walked away once and for all from the “career” that in reality had become my prison.  I walked away from the “career” that kept me from the family and friends that I love.  And above all, I walked away from the “career” that kept MY dream so far from reach.

And its scary as hell.

BUT, I think that’s a good thing.  Because its only through fear that I think we become capable of truly knowing ourselves, and achieving extraordinary things.   And I realized that in my 10 years of retail, there wasn’t one position I had where I didn’t feel there was someone who could do my job just as good, if not better.   From Sales Associate to Assistant Manager to Store Manager.  And that’s no longer good enough for me.  Its simply not what I’m here for.

I’m here to be indispensable.

Because that was MY dream.  To be special.  Unique.  Unconventional.  To do something no one else can do, and then build a career from it.

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So I might be 10 years behind, but I’d rather be 10 years behind then not ever being brave enough to even try.  Because you need to know your happiness is worth more than your paycheck, and you need to believe your dreams are worth more than title.

And while I have no idea whats going to happen, or where I’ll end up, I can admit that at the same time, and for the first time, my heart could not be happier about the possibilities that lie ahead.  Because maybe… just maybe… I’ll get to finally live the life I had envisioned for myself.  And do something no one else can do.

I have to.

It’s just too beautiful not to.

X

Beauty, Blogger Style, Confessions of a Stylist, Fashion, Model Life, Prolific Quarterly

Why You Need To Work With Joshua Paull…

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I first met Joshua on an assignment coordinated through Prolific Quarterly.  Walking into his place, it didn’t take long for his kind demeanor and genuine enthusiasm for the task ahead to make me feel right at home.  And that’s a big deal when you have to rely on your creative energy.  In other words, attitude is everything.  But even more impressive was his open mind and willing attitude throughout the shoot.  Never once did I hear him turn down one of the many suggestions or opinions being thrown at him.  And for those of you familiar with the industry, you can understand just how refreshing that is.

And for those of you who aren’t, well, here’s an idea from a Stylist’s perspective….

As a Fashion Coordinator, it is imperative for me to have a clear idea of the shoot ahead long before the actual event takes place.  This is critical not only while selecting and pulling the pieces that will be used for the shoot, but to also lay out the sequence the pieces will be shot in so it makes the most sense to the reader.

In other words, I’m creating a story.

So by the time the shoot happens, that story has now become a novel.  A novel that until now has only come to life in my mind.  And all that’s left is for it to physically unfold.  But of course, this never happens without the usual problems.  Problems that can sometimes be predicted but never determined until the model is dressed and in front of the camera.  Maybe something just isn’t working right…  Or staying in place…  Or reflecting light badly…  Whatever the reason, this is also when the suggestions or opinions start rolling in.  By everyone.  And the energy can shift dramatically.  Sometimes in an unfavorable or counterproductive direction.

This is also when a true professional will come through and handle business like a boss.

Because when you work with a team, everyone has their own unique angle and vision on how they see the final result.  That’s part of the creative process, regardless of your role.  But the real magic happens when everyone can work together, and all those visions can be blended into one final stunning image.  From the stylist, to the MUAH, to the photographer.  However, no one has more say so, or more pressure on them than the one operating the camera.

And Joshua knocked it out of the park.

So with that initial experience, I was excited to work with him again.  This time, the shoot was more personal, with an emphasis on an extreme beauty concept.  With my MUAH, the amazing Corrine Dale (see contact information below), we collaborated and dreamed up a series of shots that would focus on Corrine’s incredible creative abilities.

And because of Joshua’s patience and professionalism from the prior shoot, I knew he was perfect for this concept.  No rushing, no pressure.  These things are hard enough to achieve during your average fashion shoot, where changing outfits is your biggest challenge.  But when you ALSO have to dramatically change the hair and makeup between each look, things can get complicated.

Fast.

However, none of that even hinted to becoming an issue, and each look flew by effortlessly.  This is no doubt a reflection of my team that day.  Even Chic Norris made her modeling debut (I think there’s a real future for her…), giving all of us the opportunity to try something new.  Because that’s exactly what each shoot should offer, regardless of the role you’re playing in it, or the level of skill you currently possess.

Growth.  Experience.  And of course, success.

And thanks to an exciting and energetic environment, that is exactly what we got that day.  And then some.

So thank you, Corrine and Joshua for not only delivering, but for exceeding my expectations.

Chic’s too!

X

To book your shoot, please visit:   Joshua Paull Photography

 For MUAH inquiries, please visit:  CorrineDale.com

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Photographer: Joshua Paull MUAH: Corrine Dale
Photographer: Joshua Paull
MUAH: Corrine Dale
Beauty, Blogger Style, Bohemian, Fashion, Model Life, Prolific Quarterly, Trend Report

Prolific Quarterly

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Happy Valentine’s Day dolls….

Since today is all about love,

and I love YOU,

I wanted to apologize for my lack of posts lately.

However, with that comes great news that I can finally share with you all.

Starting Tuesday, February 16th, Prolific Quarterly will be featuring posts from your truly.  Teaming up with this  publication, which concentrates on primarily on lifestyle, entertainment and high fashion, is an absolute honor.

Many of you already know I was featured in their Winter Edition, Noir et Blanc.  The experience, which started off as just a model for a pictorial, turned into writing my first published written editorial.  And the rest is history.  Its also a testament to what I preach most to you about on here- having confidence in yourself and living the life YOU want.

While I will continue to post work on here, I encourage you all to check out my weekly posts for Prolific Quarterly which will be updated every Tuesday.

You love and support has been an absolute blessing, and I cant wait to see what the future stills holds.  And you can remain confident that whatever it brings from a fashion or beauty perspective, you’ll be able to read about it.

Because I LOVE writing about it.

To follow my posts for Prolific Quarterly, visit HERE.

To order a digital or hard copy of Noir et Blanc, visit HERE.

Stay fabulous Dolls…

X 

#BombshellCode, Confessions, Dating, Model Life, Sorry I'm No Sorry

LUSTstoned – Style… or Substance?

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…

LUSTstoned

Having promised to always be honest with you, I’ll admit that I can be a little… superficial.  I’ve chosen style over practicality (and rationalism) many times.  I mean, come on- have you seen my shoes??  So its no surprise that I’m probably guilty of choosing the men I date in the same fashion.  See what I did there?

I like the bad boys.  The rockstars.  The charismatic ones that specialize in seducing.  And ultimately destroying.  They’re charming, passionate, and intriguing.  Their sex appeal is intoxicating.  Being the object of desire to these men is like slipping into a brand new pair of Louboutin’s.  Convinced I can match they’re complexity, it gives me a natural high.  I’m not love stoned- I’m LUST stoned.  I call these men “enigmatic”.  You, on the other hand, would probably call them an asshole.  I will eventually end up calling them that too.  Except its usually after the storm.  And just like hurricanes, they each have their own name.  Some are more catastrophic than others.  But the same warning signs are always there.  And I’m the idiot that refuses to evacuate and later needs to be airlifted to safety.  And by airlifted, I mean drink wine and vowing to never date again.  Until the next one comes along.  Because who knows- maybe he could really be the one??

LOL.  Right.

I think I’ve been too busy treating men like accessories.

So here’s the real question- Why?

Well, before we can even try to answer that, lets get to the good stuff first.  A look at a few of my recent examples.  After all, if this is going to turn into a case study, you should be equipped with the proper information.  That, or at the very least, it will bring you some great entertainment.

CASE STUDY #1:  Hurricane Rockstar

Hands down, the Rockstar is, and always will be, my personal drug of choice.  There’s something about a man with a guitar that eliminates all logic in my body and replaces it with pure stupidity.  And like a true addict, I’ve dabbled in every field.  From coffee house crooners, to Grammy winning A-Listers, they all leave me unable to process and react to their actions the way I would with other men.  Instead, I chalk up their bad behavior to their bad boy way of life.  Like being a musician of any sort gives them a get-out-of-jail-free card for being a dick.  They’re not being unreasonable and selfish- they’re brooding and mysterious.  They’re not broke- they’re starving artists, refusing to give up on their passion.  Its endearing.  Its admirable.  Its sexy.

ITS ALSO A FUCKING JOKE.

And I’m proud to say my last rockstar was the one that finally landed me in rehab.  For good.  Unlike Amy Winehouse, I was screaming, “Yes, Lord, YASSSSSS!”.   You see, I have this ridiculous habit of giving people way more credit than they deserve.  I’m totally ignorant in the sense that I believe the person they are presenting to me is who they really are.  And above all, I truly believe they are simply incapable of being cruel to me.  Until they are.  Yes, I’m that stupid.  Or that hopeful.  I’m not sure which yet.  But I DO know this- when someone share’s your personal conversations for another woman to respond to, you need to erase that person from your life.  Immediately.  Because they either have the maturity of a 13 year old, the respect of a 5 star douchebag, or severe self-esteem issues.  Because nothing remains more true than this- hurt people hurt people.   All it takes is one very harsh look at reality, and an intelligent, handsome rockstar morphs instantly into someone who probably doesn’t care much about anyone but himself.  And while I may be clueless with men, I am ON POINT with my standards in love.

With the quality of people I want in my life.

And, above all, the respect I deserve.

So in conclusion, someone so unhappy with their own life has absolutely no place in mine, guitar or not.  Case closed.

CASE STUDY #2:  Hurricane Full of Shit

I’m ashamed to even be talking about this one.  Really.  And I’m inviting any of you to come and slap me for even entertaining this tool as long as I did.  And here, gentlemen, is where I will dispense the greatest piece of dating advice a girl can offer-

Never, EVER set the standard of the first date higher than what you plan to maintain after.

Case in point: Yacht Boy (as I shall refer to him) had pursued me for a while.  Seeing him as wholesome and serious, I of course dodged every attempt like Mayweather in the ring.  But he never quit.  And as fate would have it, I ran into him one night.  We ended up talking- really talking.  And much to my surprise, we had a lot in common.  It was then that I started to realize that maybe all the things about him I had initially run from were exactly what I needed.  He was going to be out of town for a while, but we agreed to get together as soon as he got back.  Of course, during his time away, we texted and shared pictures.  Not of our bodies, but of our actual lives.  Things that were important.  It was…. nice.

We made plans for the day he returned home.  Yep, you read that right.  I wont lie- it felt incredibly good to have someone that was so excited to see me.  He literally was driving, across states, to take me out.  Understandably, he ended up running a little late.  Given the effort, I didn’t mind one bit.  When he picked me up (Yes, you also read THAT right- picked me up) he apologized, explaining that upon his arrival home, he was greeted to absolutely no power at his place.  Wanting to keep his plans with me, he simply showered (a very cold shower in a very dark bathroom) and was out the door.  Everything else he would deal with later.   Whoa.  Wait.  Say what??   I’ve had to ask guys to change into actual jeans just to go out, because no, joggers are not acceptable date attire.  And this guy risked hypothermia for me?  And think about shaving- I knick myself just looking at a razor, let alone sliding it along my body in the dark.  So I’m thinking this guy is even an absolute gentlemen, or a total fucking idiot.

Idiot would eventually win.  It always does.

So as you probably guessed, we had a great date.  So much so it led to a second date.  At his place.  With power, of course.  Wanting to show off his culinary skills, he cooked a full course dinner and even made homemade ice cream for me.  I know, I know- its almost too good.  We would see each other a few more times after that, but something started to happen.  Or, everything started to happen.  To him.  It seemed like making plans were impossible because he was sick.  Or going out of the country.  Or out of state.  Or a family member had died.  Or multiple.  No really.  Like, 2 in one week, I believe?  Now, I might be a total asshole for saying this, but I call Bullshit.  You’re either a terrible liar, or the unluckiest person around.  Either way, its safe to say that you just got filed back into my “No Thank You” file.  But EVERY FREAKIN TIME I shut that damn thing, he would come along, and say something to get my attention.  Again.  He knew how to keep me at just the right distance to string me along.  And so the cycle began.  He would set something up.  I would believe him.  Because he couldn’t possibly do it again.  And then HE WOULD DO IT AGAIN.  In fact, at the end, I think the only real reason I would even agree to see him was just to prove myself right about him.  That he was a liar.  And finally I summoned the courage to point out to him what I had already accepted.  I reminded him of his effort on our first date.  That he had set his own standard when it came to me.  That he had kept his word and put me first when we set plans.  And that he had failed miserably in ever reaching it again.

And I don’t date failures.

Bye, Felicia.  Another case closed.

CASE STUDY #3:  Hurricane HeadCase

I wont go into too much detail with this guy.  Because unlike the others, this one actually hurt me.  The others were comical (after the fact) and were certainly valuable lessons.  But this one- I cant really explain what happened.  Or why.  Other than to say that some people are just bad.  And probably have bigger issues going on in their lives than we will ever understand.  You see, this was the guy that made the effort.  And then went beyond it.  When we talked, he didn’t just listen to me- he took notes.  And would surprise me with things later.  Like my favorite movie.  Or a pillow I saw in a shop when we were out on a casual stroll.  When I was sick, he made hour long trips just to bring me soup and ice cream- only to then snuggle me, letting me fall asleep on his lap.  When it got too late, he would take me to bed, and would leave only after I had fallen asleep.  One of the last times I saw him, we watched the sunset at the beach and downloaded stargazing aps.  We spent the rest of the night talking about like and looking at constellations, among a few other late night beach activities.  It was also the night he told me how he “really, really, really, really, really, really wanted this to work”.  And I did too.  No question about it.  He told me what he needed from me, and I agreed.

And then he disappeared.

He went total ghost.  It was, quite honestly, one of the most indescribable feelings to experience.  A little anger, a little disbelief, a little sadness.  All mixed with confusion.  And hurt.  It was a definitive moment where I had opened myself up.  Became a little vulnerable.  And let the walls down just a bit.  And got smacked down hard.  And all because I actually believed him.  And started to explore my feelings towards him.  And why wouldn’t I?

Easy- because I’m a normal, compassionate, loving human being.  I don’t promise rose gardens to unsuspecting victims.  I don’t stir up feelings in individuals just to stroke my own ego.  And I certainly do not intentionally hurt others just to fill some void in my life.  Maybe he was unhappy, and I was a temporary cure.  When his ego was sufficiently inflated, there was no longer room for me. I’m sure whatever the reason was, it was justifiable to him.  Otherwise, I believe I would have gotten an “I’m sorry” at one point.  But like most sociopaths, I know now that day will never come.

So as much as I would like to blame all these guys, the obvious similarity they all have…. is me.  So it brings me to my original question- do I choose these men because I truly see them as potential partners.  Or are they all just glittery accessories, comfortable in the sense that I already have a good idea how it will end.  And therefore, I never have to get too invested.  I never need to get to a point where I can see them as a Potential Maybe, instead of a Inevitable Storm.

Personally, I think in the end, I’m still hoping for the Potential Maybe, that’s just lost in the Inevitable Storm.  The storms we as females all have to go through.  Because like a good margarita, I doubt we would appreciate the sweet nearly as much without the sour.

#BombshellCode

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#BombshellCode, Confessions, Model Life, Sorry I'm No Sorry

The Flake State- Sorry I’m Not Sorry….

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…

Flakes.

Its bad enough as a single female, I have to deal with flakey men.  And, like, a LOT of flakey men.

But as a model, I also went ahead and added flakey photographers into my life.  I mean, why not?  YOLO!  In addition to that, you can probably double the amount the average model deals with.  Because I live in Florida.  Also known in the industry as-

The Flake State.

And before you Photographers get all bent out of shape, I acknowledge models are just as guilty at performing this charming act of unprofessionalism.  But here’s the problem I have with this situation.  It seems as though Models are the ONLY guilty ones.  At least, from the stories I hear.  And for a while I believed that was the case.  The same way I used to believe in Santa Clause.  Or unicorns.  Or that you can still have a relationship with someone you slept with on the first date.  There I was, silently giving myself a gold star for my squeaky clean attendance record.  Cause I was NOT getting one for my dating record.  Obviously…

And then…. something happened.

But first, let me add, I promised when this site launched that names would never be used- I have no desire to blast anyone.  I strongly believe that anything that cant be said to someone’s face is most likely an emotional thought, rather than factual.  And therefore, irrelevant.  But lets face it- if they’ve done it to me, they’ve done it to others.  And eventually, they create their own reputation.  So me trying to trash them would simply be a waste of my time.  And truth and time eventually DOES tell all.  But at the same time, I have zero problem sharing my experiences.

So lets take a look at those.

Starting with the first time I realized I had made a huge mistake in judgment. Not once.  Not even twice.  But THREE times.  Yeah, I know, I bet my single status is starting to make more sense now, huh?  But back to the original point.  This particular photographer was new to the area.  When he reached out to me for a TF shoot, I was hooked.  His work was perfect- a little edgy, but feminine.  And his use of natural light was flawless.  Though he was known for his work in Fitness and Glamour, he was striving to shoot more Fashion.  And I was desperate for Editorial (a hard thing to find in a state known for GWC’s and tacky sunset/bikini shoots).  It was perfect.

Way ahead of the game, having already tapped into my bohemian side before it was a trend, I pulled pieces for a shoot that would make any gypsy soul jealous.  Arm cuffs, kimonos, vintage sequined gowns- the options were literally limitless.  I even sacrificed one of my own couture gowns by wearing it in the ocean while the sun went down behind me.  Totally worth it.  For the record- that’s MY kind of sunset shoot.  Hundreds of images were shot in a span of 4 hours and 5 looks.

Needless to say, I was beyond excited to receive images of our work.  He warned me he wasn’t the fastest at editing, to which I had no problem with.  I tell everyone I work with- I don’t care how long it takes you, as long as give me what you promise, by when you promise.

Would you like to know how many images I received from that day?

2.

2 fucking images.

In case you didn’t read that right, I’ll say it again- 2.

Of course, in the time it took to receive those TWO images, I shot with him two more times.  Because I was still stupid then.  And I received ONE image from each of those shoots.  Let me clarify that once more time for the cheap seats in the back- ONE IMAGE PER SHOOT.

So, lets summarize my first lesson in flaking:

3 shoots in all.  We’ll ballpark those at 8 hours total shooting time.  10 – 12 looks in all.  We wont even go into prep time (hair/makeup), or the time it took to actually find and piece together each look.  Oh, wait- how about packing and unpacking everything?  And then there’s the gown I ruined.  For nothing.

Wait, I’m sorry- let me correct myself.  It wasn’t for “nothing”.  It was for 4 images.  Of which 2 of those I actually use in my portfolio.

Needless to say, there will never be a 4rth shoot.

But wait- we’re not done yet.

Lets fast forward to a year later.  Feeling a little more seasoned, and armed with that charming experience, I’m a little more cautious selecting photographers.  Or, so I think.  It turns out I was still too incredibly stupid for my own good.  Here’s Lesson #2…..

Again, I’m contacted by a photographer.  Again, one that shoots a lot of Fitness, but has an eye for edgy concepts.  Part boudoir, part fine art.  In other words, I like what I see.  He tells me he’ll be in my area in the next week so we schedule a day to shoot.  I show up, armed with enough wardrobe and accessories that would satisfy all 3 Kardashians.  We shoot for about 4, maybe 5 hours, using 6 looks in all.  It is agreed that I will receive 2 images per look.  We spend a little time going through them before I leave- the excitement over what we captured was obvious.  While reviewing them, he opens up to me about his frustration with his visit to Tampa.  He had booked multiple shoots during his visit there, however, as it would turn out, I was the only model to show.  The others had all flaked.  All of them.  Huh??

I was shocked.  Or rather, disappointed.  Disappointed in the reputation these other models were creating for not only our area, but our industry.  How does someone do that?  Especially on someone so talented?  So easy to work with?  So fun?

I’ll tell you how.  Maybe they didn’t flake at all.  Maybe they just found out something about this guy I hadn’t.  Before they could waste their time, money and wardrobe on someone who had no interest in delivering the results they were promised.  Because in the end, I would receive a mere 3 images.

THREE.

Two of which are basically the same shot.

Now I should add I was careful never to nag anyone.  In fact, this particular photographer bragged about how he purposely ignored and withheld images from models who annoyed him.  Noted.  Plus, I have no interest in images edited by an annoyed photographer.  Do you really think you’re going to receive their best work?  Sorry, Princess.  Maybe I’m wrong here, but I want images that have been edited out of excitement.  Passion.  Enthusiasm.  Clearly, this guy had lost that somewhere.

But moving on.

Looking back now, I realize there were a few things these two gentlemen had in common.  The biggest being my confusion in how either of them were not making a living doing something they were so obviously good at.  I’m no longer confused-

Their lack of professionalism and integrity will never allow them to be great.

In an industry so superficial and ego-driven, there is simply no more room left for liars.  Because you can have the biggest ego in the room- so long as you can also deliver the results to back it up.  Otherwise you’re just all talk with a few cool pictures on Instagram.  From 2 years ago.

But even more frustrating is the thought that these individuals probably thought at one point “What’s she going to do about it?”.  Well, nothing.  Except when your name comes up I’ll be honest.  I’ll explain how I did my part.  And put every effort into our shoot.  How I cared.  How I drove an hour to meet with you.  How I went above what you expected.  And how you let me down by not caring about any of it.  I’ll tell them how I strung along with promises of more images, when you “weren’t so busy”.  Awww- You’re busy?  So is everyone else.  Let that be a lesson to anyone that uses that as an excuse- its insulting.  If I can mange to deliver results, then I expect you to be able too.  And if you CANT handle that, well, maybe you need to pick a new career.  This applies to flakey models, as well.

So in the end, I have accepted those shots are long gone.  I no longer stress or get upset when I think about all the wasted potential.  Because I know I did my job.

And I did it well.

Probably better than they deserved.

In short, I learned that sometimes the lessons that come from shoots are deeper than just poses and angles.  That they can benefit more than just your portfolio (if youre lucky enough toeven HAVE anything for your port).  Sometimes they simply provide experience in making better decisions in the future.  And they CERTAINLY teach you about integrity, and how crucial it is for your reputation.

Because in the end, regardless of your talent, the true value of you as a model/photographer is only as good as your word.

Because, baby- there is no filter for poor ethics.

And no makeup to cover that ugly heart.

All that’s left for you now is the reputation of being just another unreliable flake.

Remember that.

Liberata Dolce Model Blog Blogger Flakes Bombshell Florida

#BombshellCode

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#BombshellCode, Beauty, Confessions, Fashion, Model Life, Uncategorized

Modeling- Vanity? Or Lesson in Humility?

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A Pivotal Moment….

Every model has some story about how they were “discovered”.  For me, it was a little different.  I had always been told by friends and family that I should model- that I was “so photogenic”… and “so pretty”.  And my obsession with fashion magazines only encouraged them.  What they didn’t know was that I was extremely insecure.  What others saw as vanity was actually only self conscience attempts to hide every flaw.  And even though I had all this encouragement, nothing could make me see it till I myself started to see it too.  Ironically, it was the other models in my fashion magazines that finally helped me do this.  They inspired me.  Pushed me.  Challenged me.  Not to be like them physically- I was insecure, not stupid.  But to be part of something beautiful.  Iconic.  Extraordinary.  Like the old school Guess? ads we all know and love.  It wasn’t about being the actual girl in the picture- it was about the entire image itself.  To me, every ad campaign from Gucci, YSL, Chanel, Versace… it was all ART.  And I wanted a to be a part of it SO bad.

Fast forward to a few years later….

My best friend is marrying the man of her dreams, and I’m the Maid of Honor, just like we had always promised each other.  Now, for the average BFF, this is already a big job.  Like, huge.  And tough.  Because its also the one time you knowingly, and very lovingly, have to tone down your look for the big day.  Because its not about you.  In other words, you have to look amazing, without actually looking amazing.  YOU are the accessory.  You’re the Chanel clutch (classy, simple) carried next to a Balmain dress (jaw-dropping gorgeous).

But that’s okay- cause I happen to love Chanel.

However, the job duties become even more challenging for someone like me.  Because I’m the fashion queen in the group, my friends have always come to me with dilemmas.  Especially for big events.  So naturally, when it comes to my dress for the big day, no one wants to tell me what to wear.  (Even though I promise I would if they did…  I think…  Okay, I might customize it a tiny bit…)  So as anticipated, I’m given free reign from the Bride to find my own Maid of Honor dress.  Her only request is simple- it has to be purple.

Easy for anyone else.  For me- it’s my new fashion conquest.

This launches me into one of those epic fashion searches I’m famous for.  And this is why I say that this particular responsibility is so much harder for someone like me.  This isn’t merely just about finding a purple dress.  Its about finding THE purple dress.  Its about the finding the most perfect, amazing, purple dress that was ever stitched together.  Its about finding the perfect dress so my Best Friend’s day is EVERYTHING she ever dreamed it would be.  Because this is a day where details matter- and I’m now one of those details.

With images of terrifying bridesmaid dresses from the 80’s swimming in my head, I know the one most critical factor is to stick with something classic.  Timeless.  Simple.  Something ageless that wont send shivers down children’s spine when they look at their Grandparents wedding pictures years from now.  I can honestly tell you I have had nightmares involving those puffy sleeves… to a fashionista, they’re legit scarier than any clown.

And this is when it all happens.

I think I’m at my 35th bridal shop.  I’m giving the same speech to the assistant- “…..purple.  Any shade, but not too dark… long and floaty… unique, but classic… mermaid preferably…. do you have anything backless?”.  This particular shop also carried pageant gowns, so I was feeling rather positive.  At the very least, there would be some unique gowns to slip into and pretend.  It’s like playing “Dress Up” for grown ups.  So I’m in heaven, trying on gown after gown while the assistant feverishly pulls more- her determination was quite impressive.  High on fashion endorphins and lost in the thrill of sequins and sinfully plunging necklines, I started to lose focus.  As I admire the latest body-hugging contestant in the mirror, I suddenly realize- this dress is gold…??  Wait, what is happening?  Purple… we need PURPLE!!  It is then that I realize another woman is watching this parade of pageant gowns- the owner.  Before I can even call for the assistant to redirect her focus back to the original mission, the owner comes to me.  Turns out she had just received a new season of gowns and wanted to see them on someone.  And because of my body type, I was “perfect”.  Perfect meaning “big boobs, small waist and can squeeze into sample sizes”.

At the same time, a photographer was also in the shop.  He shot a lot of weddings and worked with the owner of the boutique quite often.  My impromptu fashion show had caught his attention.  “Have you ever modeled before?” he asks.  I laugh.  Of course.  Cause that’s what I do when I’m nervous.  Or on the spot.  Crazy right?  I bet you thought modeling was all about vanity and self-centered attention.  Wrong, wrong, wrong…. but more on that later.

I’m not sure what it was.  I had been asked before.  Many times before.  Maybe I was just in the right mood.  Maybe I was feeling all this good wedding energy.  Maybe it was just simply meant to be.  But I agreed to shoot with him.  And just like that, it all started.

So while I didn’t find the perfect dress there, I did find something.  An opportunity.  A crossroads that actually became one of the most pivotal moments in my life thus far.  I often wonder if the insecure side of me would have won that day, and I had said “no thank you”.  Who would I be right now?  Where would I be right now?  What great things would I have accomplished in lue of my experiences as a result of saying “yes”?  I’m not saying I’m a better person as a result- just a different person.  A stronger, slightly more confident version.

Earlier I mentioned vanity.  And how utterly incorrect it is to associate it with modeling.  Or at least with MY modeling.  I’m sure there are those who simply just enjoy having their picture taken.  Who relish the attention of being the primary focus.  And that’s okay- to each their own.  But to assume that’s the agenda of every model is not only inaccurate, it’s unfair.  I’m somewhere on the opposite end of the spectrum.  You see, shoots have become a personal challenge for me.  A way of growth. Of acceptance- of who I am both physically and mentally.  There is no hiding from my flaws- only brutal honesty.  I give up total control of how I will be presented when all is said and done.  Or shot, rather.

Take a selfie for instance.  We are ALL guilty of them, so bare with me here…  When someone takes a selfie, they take multiple shots, right?  Go on, you can admit it.  I bet you even have a favorite side you prefer.  You then choose the one you like best.  The one that has the perfect angle.  It hides what you don’t want to show, or if you cant hide it, well… you can find a filter.  Or, it accentuates, or points to, what YOU want to feature.  My point is, you don’t take a selfie without the intention of putting the best “you” out there.

Modeling is pretty much the opposite of that.  Its like taking all those shots, never looking at them, and giving them all away to someone else so they can do whatever they want with them.  Scary, right?

Yeah- that’s what I thought.

Now lets take it one step further.  Think about the person that has those images.  They’re zooming in on all the things you would be mortified for someone to notice.   Think about your date walking up to you and pointing out that pimple you thought you covered.  Or that stretch mark on your hip.  Or the dimples on your thigh.  Or… you get the point.

That’s how vulnerable and exposed I feel every time I step in front of the lens.  My guard comes down, and the brutal physical honesty comes out.  The imperfections.  The flaws.  Remember when you first heard your voice from something recorded?  You probably thought something like “That’s not how I sound?!  Is it…??”.  That’s pretty much how I felt in the beginning when I looked at raw shots.  I was forced to see myself in ways I had always avoided before.   Or ignored.  I saw the real me.  I saw myself through another person’s eye.  The good… the bad… the flaws.  Or what I use to consider flaws.  Slowly they have turned into love and acceptance.  Not totally- but I’m more forgiving of myself then I ever thought I would be capable of.

So in short- for me, its a lesson in humility, as my Dad would say.  Its a glimpse at reality.  The sometimes very brutal truth, depending on the lighting.  The truth where there is no capturing your “good side” (mine is my left).  Because they will capture every side.

At the same time, its also an opportunity to open yourself.  To let parts of yourself out that you normally try to silence.  An opportunity to accept yourself.  An opportunity to creatively express emotions or feelings.  Some of my favorite shots are simple candid moments between me and the photographer.  Maybe we were sharing a cigarette.  Or talking about my most recent boyfriend.  Maybe we were simply musing about the future.  And that is where the challenge comes from.  With everything I have discovered and accepted about myself, why would I even think about stopping?  Especially when I know its just the beginning.  I want to dig SO much deeper.

And the best part?  I have images as personal proof of my evolution.  Some good, some bad- all special.

Just something to consider the next time you want to call a model Vain.  Perhaps its YOU that needs to dig a little deeper as well?

Like the great Karl Lagerfeld once said, “Change is the healthiest way to survive”.

And for those still wondering, of course I found “the perfect dress”.  A beautiful creation by Vera Wang, and customized with a vintage brooch.  I was the perfect accessory, to the perfect wedding, of the perfect couple (I love you!!).

So remember, whether your searching for a dress, or self acceptance, just follow your natural instinct.  Do what feels right for YOU.  Don’t be afraid to take chances.  And never miss out on a chance to discover more about yourself.

Because perseverance will ALWAYS pay off.

#BombshellCode

X

#BombshellCode, Beauty, Fashion, Model Life, Polyvore

Young, Wild, Free [People]

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Young, Wild, Free [People]

The Volon fringe handbag
runway2street.com

London Road gold layered necklace
$1,215 – jewelstreet.com

Ela Stone polish jewelry
monnierfreres.com

Moon and Lola wide band ring
$72 – neimanmarcus.com

Ottoman Hands boho style jewelry
$47 – veryexclusive.co.uk

Tassel earrings
maykool.com

Party jewelry
amazon.com

#BombshellCode, Beauty, Fashion, Model Life

Feeling Blue?

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Which hue speaks to you?

One Romantic… One slightly more Edgy.

Both PERFECTION.

Which hue is you?

Gucci sandals
$455 – mytheresa.com

Rafe green clutch
renttherunway.com

Delada gold jewellery
wolfandbadger.com

Chanel earrings
1stdibs.com

Green charm
ylang23.com

Lanvin elbow length glove
$1,050 – neimanmarcus.com

NARS Cosmetics green eye makeup
$39 – liberty.co.uk

Tom Ford eau de perfume
saksfifthavenue.com

#BombshellCode, Confessions, Dating, Intro, Model Life

Confessions: Intro

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Confession 1: 

The Intro

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Yes, yes- I know.  I promised you when this fabulous site first launched that I would be open and honest about my own personal love life.  And I think now is the perfect time to begin that process.

You see, a very large motivating factor for this very site is my perpetual habit of choosing men that are SO wrong for me.  Like, really wrong.  Like, so wrong that my own Mom gave up any kind of hope a long time ago.  And lets be honest- if I made logical decisions on whom I dated, I doubt I would be nearly as interesting.  Or scarred (literally).  And think of all the awesome experiences I would have missed out on.  Like finding out the guy you’ve been dating for a month is married.  Or being bit by an overly intoxicated date (I really wasn’t joking about the scar).  And then there’s the closet Jesus freak that compared me to a prostitute (thank you POF!).  How about the guy that freaked out on me, and then blamed it on his preventative hair-loss medication…

By now, I have enough experience to supply complete storylines for at least 3 movies.  Except none of them come with Fairytale endings.  Yet.  No, they’re probably more like horror films.  And clearly I’m like the dumb, slutty blonde character that always dies in the end because she runs the (very obvious) wrong way.

You would think I’d learn by now…

Which brings me to my topic.

After years of dating, and with no real relationships to really show for it, it makes me wonder- Are we all willing to keep putting ourselves out there because we’re addicted to love?  Or just the rush of dating to find someone better?

Lets go back to the old boring way people used to do it.  There was no internet, no texting, no Joe Manganiello.  I mean, that’s enough right there for me to hate things.  But yet, I think people were at their happiest when it came to dating.  They didn’t have a whole world of potential partners to choose from- they had their hometown.  They didn’t initiate contact with weeks of texting before “hanging out”.  They went on actual dates.  Together.  Without any prior knowledge of each other that they gathered from Facebook and Google.  Like, whoa.

And for those still not quite sure what this mythical term means, “Dating” was considered a formal act of courtship.  A clear first step in determining if you guys were going to get hitched down the road.  They went to places like drive-ins.  Probably because the only action they could even hope for HAD to take place during the actual date itself- because going home with the other person at the end of the night wasn’t even an option.  Hence why you actually had to GO TO PLACES SPECIFICALLY TO MAKEOUT.  Where other couples were making out around you (Ew…).  And then you waited for a phone call.  Like, really waited.  By a phone that was connected to a wall.  For days (which would be like weeks today).  And that was code for “You are now in consideration for future hitching”.

Awesome.

Take my parents, for instance- they met at a party… and never left each others side.  They grew up in the same town.  Met through mutual friends.  Fell in love.  And STAYED in love.  As a bonus, they even got me out of the deal.  Again- Awesome.

And since we’re on that note, lets look at me.  It seems the fact that I have remained single is so unexplainable to my friends.  No one can understand it.  Or when I meet someone new…..

liberata dolce blog confessions single why

I often get stared at in wonder by family the same way people probably look at crop circles.  How?  Why?  Should we be afraid??  After all, I come from a good, balanced family.  My childhood was almost TOO perfect.  There are no tragic incidents from my past to report.  I have a college degree.  A great career.  BAD shopping habits (it cant all be sunshine and roses…).  I’m healthy…  Intelligent…  Happy…

So…. whats wrong with me?

The answer- Absolutely nothing.

I’m just an example, or by-product even, of dating by today’s standards.  Or rather, lack thereof.  I’m an example of someone addicted to the thrill of the hunt and driven by personal challenge.  Men are trophies.  Sex is power.  And feelings, if you even have any, are disposable.  Terrified at the thought of missing out on someone better, I never want to get too attached.

Okay, so I’m not totally ALL of those things.  Not all together.  Because that would make me a frigid bitch that’s incapable of love.  If anything, I’m the exact opposite.  I look for it so hard that I ignore all the signs that are screaming for me to run.  And yet I don’t.  Because I’m the dumb blonde that always runs the wrong way, remember?  But I can probably directly link one or more of those reasons to most of, if not all, of my past relationships.

And speaking of which, lets look at some of those, shall we?

*As a side note to the men of my past who might find themselves reading this- relax.  Your identity is safe.  This isn’t a Burn Book, and you’re not that special.  But it IS my honest opinion.  So deal with it.

Now, I cant possibly write about all the great loves of my life in one post.  I feel like I would be cheating you from some pretty epic examples of “Oh no he didn’t!!” moments.  And those moments are exactly what you came here for.  And just to set the record straight- I’m no angel myself.  But most of you probably already guessed that.

So instead, I’ll share these stories with you individually.  In the form of “Confessions”.  Confessions to my past addictions (also known as “men”), and the lessons that came with them.  Because like any good drug, they all had some euphoric hold on me.  And then eventually left me strung out and exhausted.  Some even left me ashamed.  Others craving another hit.  Some I went multiple rounds with.  Some I hope to never lay eyes on again.  Ever.

So get ready.  Because honesty is always the best policy….

Sorry I’m not sorry.

#BombshellCode

X

“There’s nothing wrong with getting dirty when you clean up well.”

#BombshellCode, Dating, Model Life

Going Ghost: Today’s “I’m Just Not That Into You”

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We all remember the episode.  The iconic words spoken by the one and only Jack Berger to explain one of the greatest mysteries still numbing the female mind today.  The mystery of dating someone you presume to be amazing.  Someone who obviously finds you equally amazing.  This is followed by the mystery of that very same person suddenly becoming (and staying) too busy for you.  Till finally, here comes the wine filled investigation with your best P.I.’s/girlfriends on why-  Maybe he really is busy?  Nope.  He scared of commitment?  LOL.  Maybe he’s sick?  Wrong again.  Maybe he’s out of town?  Possibly- if the new town he’s visiting is named Veronica.  And then of course, no girl rally is ever complete without someone fiercely declaring “It’s not you, it’s him!”.  Well, that’s partially correct… because really…

“He’s just not that into you…”

And boom.  Everything made sense.  Just like that.  6 honest words was all it took for confused women around the globe to shove that loser out of their mind, strap on their Manolo’s, and get back in the game.  No agonizing.  No over analyzing.  Just straight forward progression to meeting someone new.  And it wasn’t because they were excited the guy didn’t like them- it was because they had CLOSURE.  And logical closure at that.  An understandable and relatable reason to no longer invest time or energy into someone.  And then closure on your end would usually go something like this- “HE wasn’t into ME??  What an idiot.  Well clearly the guy is delusional.  And not to mention totally clueless on what size he actually wears.  Thank God I found out now- I wonder if the Christian Grey look-a-like still goes to my Starbucks…?  I need new shoes.”.

And just like that, you’re on to the next one.  Not just the next one, but a sexier, funnier, smarter one.  And hopefully richer.  ALWAYS richer.  If you’re not constantly upgrading the type of man you are dating, you are SO doing it wrong.  #BombshellCode

But alas, that was then.  And this… well, this is now.

Welcome to Generation Ghost.

The generation that decided just to skip the whole awkward “I’m sorry- I have to be up really early tomorrow” excuse and just straight up ignores you.  This tactic can be deployed by either the male or female.  Basically, whoever lost interest first, or found someone more interesting/hotter/taller/richer/dumber on Tinder.  There are varying degrees of Ghosting, but in order for it to count as a full blown Ghost experience, the person must disappear out of the blue, with no logical reason or warning.  I’m serious- you’re going to think they were struck by lightning.  But usually a simple look at their social media will eliminate any doubt.  In other words, if they can post a picture of their breakfast on Instagram, thereby confirming they still exist, but not respond to your text from 2 days ago, well… you can now consider your life the new sequel to Paranormal Activity.

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Liberata Dolce Dating Relationships Ghosting Blog

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So here comes the real question about this new phenomenon- is it good or bad?  Personally, I believe the answer depends on how fast you accept it- and react to it.  In one way, we have eliminated the awkward and sometimes painful last minute date cancelations.  There’s no need to come up with clever excuses as to why- food poisoning/my mom is sick/I have to wash my hair/I was in a tragic car accident that left me paralyzed.  Cause we all know- the more incredulous the lie, the more believable it HAS to be.

But we’re also avoiding being honest.  And more importantly- communication in general.  This kind of treatment can only lead to one feeling disposable.  I believe that no matter what the reason, we all deserve the right to know.  You don’t have to believe it, or adjust your whole life/personality as a result of it- it IS just someone’s opinion after all.  Like, if someone judged me for having too many clothes, I would point and laugh, and then move on happily.  To Saks.  Cause NO ONE needs that kind of negativity in their life.  And look at that- in addition to a new dress for your next new (hotter/richer/funnier/smarter) date, you got honesty AND closure.  Fuck yeah.

But when someone goes Ghost, you have two choices.  Choice #1, you can be smart and recognize it.  And I mean quickly.  I’m not saying you should assume this is the case because a whole day went by without a text.  But I WOULD say that you should start doing damage control and accept this could be the case.  What you DO NOT do is start sending text after text.  Which brings us to Choice #2, refusing to accept that anyone could be dumb enough to lose interest in you.  So you’re going to spend the next few weeks over analyzing, texting, and feeling bad about yourself while figuring out what you did wrong.  The fact is, someone IS dumb enough to lose interest in you.  And that’s exactly how you have to look at it.  That’s the thing with Ghosts- there will never be solid proof.  Just a bunch of urban legends as to why he disappeared.

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Liberata Dolce Ghosting Relationships Dating Blog

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Regardless of which route you take, this is the biggest challenge with Ghosting- the risk of OR belief in the Ghost coming back to life.  With no closure, you can never really be sure.  I mean, maybe he really WAS sick with the flu.  For 3 months.  With no ability to make contact cause he also had the Chicken Pox.  And had to wear oven mitts.  So he couldn’t text.  I KNEW IT!!

Yep.  He must be your Prince Charming.  It just took 3 months worth of other women for him to see it.

You get my point?  And just in case you’re still painfully unaware of the obvious, let me clarify- once someone goes Ghost, there is no coming back.  Ever.  Even Pet Cemetery couldn’t resuscitate this relationship.  So exercise the demons.  Preferably with a new man who actually does adore you.  And puts you first.  And puts all your fears of the paranormal at rest.

Take ownership and see the relationship, however long or short, for what it really was.  Was it REALLY all that incredible?  Or just convenient.  Or maybe a little of both.  Either way, chances are you’re going to look back and it will make sense as to why it didn’t work.  And yes, a simple “Because he was a dick” is fine.

But finally, here is some good news with Ghosts.  Unlike cheaters, ghosting is not an actual characteristic trait.  So the whole “Once a cheater, always…” theory doesn’t apply here.  It is still believed by both Ghost’s and Ghostees that when the right person comes along, Ghosting isn’t something to be worried about.  Unless of course, he actually DOES get struck by lightning.  And if that does happen, well, I would classify that as simply a case of good old fashioned karma.

So in the end, I guess we can put Ghosting in the Blessing category.  Eventually.  Way down the road when you’ve met The One, elusive as they may be.  The real life man of your dreams who only makes excuses to spend more time with you (“Sorry Boss, I think I caught the flu….”).  That’s when you can finally stop being afraid of ghosts, once and for all.  And your scary dating past can become just another urban legend.

And finally, lets get back to good ol’ Jack Berger.  What a piece of work this guy was.  Do you remember how he broke up with Carrie?  I know, I know- stupid question.  Of course you do.  It was the most incredible example of a douchebag you had EVER seen in your romantic life up to that point.

I’m sorry.  I cant.  Don’t hate me.

The Post-It.  I bet it still makes you cringe.  Except it shouldn’t.  Not today anyways.  Because we leave our own little break up Post-Its all the time.  Except now we simply send them via text.  So at the VERY least, thank Ghosting for saving you from having to deal with THAT.

And honestly, I have a lot to thank my own personal Ghosts for.  They forced me to really look at myself and take responsibility.  To grow up.  And to accept that we don’t always get what we want- and that sometimes we SHOULDNT get what we want.  And even more importantly, I gained the ability to take all the times that men made me feel like nothing, and then turn it into a big something.  A voice.  For you.

And as it turns out, I’m not as stupid as the ghosts in my life have made me feel.

And that’s the greatest self discovery of all.

So yeah- R.I.P. bitches.

X

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#BombshellCode, Beauty, Dating, Fashion, Model Life

A Perfect Lie…

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https://open.spotify.com/track/7G852cXa8LBspMja7NvTSs

HELLO, GORGEOUS….

And welcome to my “mlog”.

It seems fitting that my first post should be more of a description of that very word.  A preface of sorts.  A reason to anticipate crave the next post.

Model + Blog = Mlog

Clever, right?

You see, I believe I have a talent.  And it’s not modeling.  Its COLLABORATING.  The thrill of each shoot isn’t the shoot itself.  Its the pulling of wardrobe.  Its the collecting of pieces.  Its breathing life into the ideas in my head.  Down to every little detail.  The images are simply the final result.  The climax.

The images are me.  And by “me” I’m referring to that person in your head you wish you could be.  Not because you cant- but because you’re afraid.  Have you ever found yourself saying “I could never pull that off….”?   THAT is you making an excuse.  And that is what I hope to change.

Why?

Because you deserve to know that YOU are fucking gorgeous.  And as long as you believe that, you can pull off any look your fierce little heart desires.

I have a gut instinct that I follow.  From shopping, to getting ready for work, to prepping for a shoot, to lounging like a goddess at home.  That instinct is a mixture of the tone that I want to set, and the foundation of how I want to feel.  In other words- expression.

“Style is a way to say who you are without having to speak”

So I’m going to share all my secrets with you.  In a series of fashion adventures.  Whether its packing for NYC, shooting in Miami, or date night in Tampa (yes, I kiss and tell…).   And while you may regret the guy, you will never regret how you looked.  Because this is about YOU.

And because I believe in details, each post will include a song to help further set the tone.  Because I don’t shoot or dress without music.  And maybe a few other things, too…

So get ready Bombshell- I’m going to expose myself in the hopes of inspiring you to not only just pull it off, but to own it.

And with that, I will leave you my first rule:

1.  Don’t EVER concern yourself with what others think.

Ever.

There is a huge difference in how you make others feel, and how you let others make you feel.  If I worried about what every bitch thought of me, I’d be just that- another worried bitch.  And quite frankly, I feel the world has enough of those.  So brush them off.  Embrace the fact that if you are going to live your life as strong, confident, beautiful female (or as a fine ass male) you WILL have critics.  That’s good.  Embrace them.  They are your biggest fans.

Live your life for you.  Dress for you.  Date for you.

#BombshellCode

Get used to seeing that.

Now, take in everything you read here.  Let it sink in.  Start thinking of all those amazing things you have wanted to do/try/wear/say, but haven’t found the reason to yet.

Because THIS is your reason.

X