Drafts: Be Published or Die

I used to be so precious about keeping every single scrap of an idea that came to me. A few words that sound good together, a hesitant little seed of something hinting towards some future potential. 

Now I cull without mercy. Be published, young scrap, or die. 

What Is My Obsession With Succeeding Sans Practice?

I seemed to have made a miscalculation at some point in my life. That being "good" at something really only counts if you did it without trying, on the fly, without practicing. 

I'm realizing over and over again that practice is basically a free, almost guaranteed path to getting better. So why the hell do I constantly expect myself to be good, get better, without practicing? 

"Practicing" feels like the wrong word. "Trying" also feels like the wrong word. The just-started-going-to-the-gym part of me reaches for "reps," but even that feels a bit too clinical. 

"Do it 100 times" really does say it best. Just do the thing more. 

When I'm learning a new language, I can just forget a word and look it up 100 times. When I'm trying to make the best cookies ever, I can just make 100 batches. When I'm down on myself about my runway walk for the thousandth time, I can just go out in my hallway and do 100 walks, for Pete's sake!

Aha. I was just about to once again lament that I keep forgetting and realizing this over and over again. But there I go again! I can just relearn this lesson in 100 different contexts!

I would really like to. I want to shake this notion that I must perform well without having ever done it a million times first. What's so wrong about not being great at something, anyway? 

Amateur Modeling is Actually Just Fine, Thanks

After doing my first two fashion shows in a very long while, I am done pouting like a collapsed Disney princess about my abilities and prospects as a model. 

Recently I've been feeling down about never progressing to the next level of modeling, feeling like I can't break into the world of Real Models who do the high-level shows and actually, you know, get paid for their work. 

But after doing these recent shows, I realized I was feeling that way simply because it had been entirely too long between shows—I'm actually right at the level I want to be, and don't mind staying here forever (I'll just get creative about some other way to make money). 

The core issue for me was feeling like access to modeling was being gate-kept from me. That surely, if some agency would just take me on, then I could have a steady flow of modeling opportunities. 

The reality is that the higher up in modeling you go, the more restrictive it becomes. If I did get signed with an agency (which I'm still open to trying and would like to do), then I'd no longer have complete control over my hairstyle, for example. They can't, like, make me do anything to my hair, but it is industry standard to inform your agency before of any potential hair changes, and to not go through with it if your agency doesn't approve. 

On one hand, it honestly wouldn't be too bad to have some input on what hairstyle would look good on me. On the other hand, I hate not being in control of my own look. 

I'm also quite happy to have no one weighing in (ha!) on my weight or measurements. I was just talking backstage today with other models about the comments they've heard from agents and casting directors, commenting on their weight and questioning why they're even showing up for certain castings if they're not a certain small size. 

Meanwhile, even though I had two shows this week, I was happily bulking (or at least trying to)—eating as much as I could shove into my mouth. I would much rather that than be watching my weight and trying to eat as little as I can. 

At the show I did today, most of the other girls were that level of thin, that they wouldn't be laughed out of high fashion castings. I am also thin, but not unhealthily so. For this brand I was basically plus-size—the other girls wore the avant-garde, quite involved, very tiny outfits, and my two outfits were both just sweaters (over a thong). 

I did not mind this at all. My quick changes were super simple and easy, whereas the other girls were majorly stressing, some in minor pain from the chains and other vaguely sharp accoutrements. 

I realized the other day that high-level modeling is very similar to high-level sports: only a tiny, tiny percentage of all models make it to that level, and it requires a level of physical fitness that realistically most people will never achieve. 

It took me this long to realize that, because at the more amateur levels, it's actually incredibly easy to break in, and I've had no issue booking shows, without needing to be excessively tiny and toned. (I said something about this to my boyfriend who then joked that of course a hot girl would say it's super easy to become a model.)

But really! It seems like every single show I do, there's at least one girl who says, "This is my first show! I never thought I could be a model, but I just decided to try out, and here I am!" 

Girls that thought they would be too short, too old, too whatever. They gave it a shot anyway, and they ended up on the runway.

So I figured it would be basically as easy to continue progressing, but that hasn't really been the case. It makes sense when I think about it; sure, the unpaid gigs are taking basically anybody, but the paid gigs have oodles of competition. 

I'm happy to now realize that I am perfectly content not progressing, and finding my own way to keep my steady flow of modeling opportunities. 

Behaviors of a Pro Amateur Model

Though I'm no modeling expert, I often model with complete newcomers—to them I am an expert! So here is a list of things I do as an amateur model that make me seem like a total pro. 

1. I don't complain. Sometimes I will ask a question or make a comment if something makes me very uncomfortable, and in that case I'll keep it professional rather than blaming or complaining; but if it's just that I'm tired or bored or don't like the clothes I'm wearing, then I keep it to myself. 
2. I tend to genuinely like whatever's put on me. Sure, sometimes I like one option more than another, but I genuinely feel it's an honor to wear any creation, not just the outstanding ones. 
3. I keep my expression neutral or positive when I am trying on garments; if I don't like what they're putting on me, I don't think it's very polite to show it. If I do give a positive reaction, I make sure to positively react to all the options, picking one or two things about it to compliment. One time, I gave an extra positive reaction to maybe the third option a designer tried on me; she then said, "Well now I think you don't like the first two!" Not every designer will react like that, but I think it's good to keep in mind that a designer wants someone to respect the garments they put on you. 
4. When a designer puts a garment on me and gives me a once-over to see how it looks, I always give a little pose—nothing crazy, but I don't just stand there lifeless.
5. I come prepared, whether it's to a casting, a fitting, or a show. I wear an all-black outfit that I can easily take off. I come with nude underwear and pasties already on (and bring multiple additional bra and underwear options).
6. I make sure that once I sit for hair and makeup, I am only wearing things that can be easily removed, so as to not disturb the hair and makeup when I change into my outfit. This also prevents getting any hair and makeup products on the garments.
7. I make sure I get in line for hair and makeup, I don't wait around waiting for someone to get me. I keep an eye on the time and do my own if time is running out, or alert organizers if no one is aware that hair and makeup is way behind schedule. 
8. I do not change my makeup or hair unless instructed by the designer or organizers. Many models leave the makeup chair and immediately go "fix" or change the look, because it's not how they like to be seen. My job isn't to look how I want to be seen—it's to look how the designer wants me to be seen. 
9. I understand my role is to fulfill the designer's vision, not to look good (unless, y'kno, that's their vision).
10. I wear clear, unscented deodorant, to prevent product or sweat from getting on the garment (sometimes this can't totally be avoided, but I at least do my best). 
11. I don't wear any other strong scents or products that would get on the garments.
12. I keep my model bag well-stocked: my black heels, nude heels, black boots if necessary, white tennis shoes if necessary, various undergarments, extra pasties in case other models need some, non-messy snacks, water, makeup and hair products in case I need to do my own. 
13. I stay calm in chaos and come prepared for anything. Sometimes there's no hair and makeup artist. Sometimes we run out of time while preparing. Sometimes a garment is changed last minute—last year I had a designer switch my outfit while we were lined up, after the show had already started.
14. I don't eat food while wearing or standing near the garments. If I do eat backstage, it's away from the garments and only foods I can eat with minimal mess.
15. I keep my nails clean and neutral. No crazy colors, length, or designs. 
16. I do my best to keep a professional expression during the show, even if things go wrong—I don't "break character."
17. I take direction well—I'll do my best the first time, and if the designer gives notes on what to do differently, then I do that. 
18. I'm familiar with the basics of a runway walk, such as: keep your eyes up, don't look down if you can, walk in the middle of the runway when it's your turn, and walk to the side of the runway as you go back so there's room for the next model, pose at the beginning/middle/end as instructed, stay "in character" until you're fully off the runway, then get back in line for the finale. I'm also comfortable changing any of these rules as instructed. 
19. When posting a look on instagram, I tag and credit all involved (to the best of my ability). 
20. I do not post garments on Instagram before the show has happened (some designers don't care, but in general this is a no-no; the garments should make their debut on the runway, not your own Instagram). 
21. Backstage, I take any opportunity to ask for others' Instagrams and follow them, this way I can credit them later, or ask for photos/footage if they're a photographer. The times I leave it until later, sometimes later never comes, and I lose the opportunity to connect with that person via Instagram. 
22. I have an Instagram in the first place: exclusively for modeling, open to the public (not a locked private account), and I showcase my portfolio on my account. 
23. I do my best to capture photos and videos on my own, in case I don't receive any from the organizers or whatever photographers were there. I could be better at posting these after the fact, but I don't get too hung up on that—I at least have some stuff on my profile that shows I'm an active model; it's fine if I don't post every single show. I care about actually modeling, not posting about modeling.
24. I take feedback well. I don't let it hurt my feelings (or if it does, I process that later), I take it into account and do it differently the next time. 
25. I'm nice and kind and helpful backstage. If there's some way I can help, I will do so, whether it's assisting in a quick change or distributing information or finding a person someone's looking for. It's a team effort, and I do my best to help out. 
26. I have fun! A good mood is contagious. It's much more enjoyable to work with a model who enjoys modeling. 

Notes from the Most Chaotic Fashion Show in Recent Memory

When I arrived, the fitting, hair, and makeup were all happening in a room off to the right of the entrance, which was windowed on all sides. Shortly after, someone from the venue came in and said, "Actually, everyone needs to move out of this room and into another room upstairs." 

That meant not only packing up everything that had already been set up, but while transporting into the next room, we also discovered said room was actually a theatre, and the hair and makeup people then had to scramble to find outlets. Utter chaos. 

It ended up working decently well, but the venue employees were also doing a tech check for the premiere later, meaning at some point they turned out the lights. While the hair and makeup people were still doing hair and makeup. So then they were trying to yell "LICHT!!!!!" (light in german) over the sound of the cinema audio playing. Again, utter chaos.

We were originally told that the doors would open at 6pm and the fashion show would be at 7pm. No one gave us a "be ready by this time," so I just assumed we'd have to be finished with hair and makeup by 6pm. 

At 5:12pm, there were still two girls in front of me in line for makeup, so I just decided to do my own (I always bring my own makeup in case of such a situation). I was satisfied with how my makeup came out, but as it turned out, I probably would have had time to just wait in line to have it done, because the show actually wasn't until 8pm. And who knows if that's when it actually started, because by then I had neither my phone nor my apple watch on me. 

When we started the show, it seemed like no one had any idea there was a fashion show occurring. And indeed, it seems that was the case. After the event I saw footage of the pre-show announcement: two soft-spoken women yelling to a crowded room of people, over music, that "HEY! FASHION SHOW STARTING!" Obsessed. 

Before a show, there is usually a rehearsal, where we learn the "choreography" of the show—where we walk and when. Naturally, there's almost no one else in the space when we rehearse. 

However, during the show itself, since for this show there wasn't an officially demarcated runway (we were just walking a specific route down the stairs and through the lobby of the venue), there were people everywhere. 

As in, we were literally wading through the crowd just to walk our route. And as I said, people had no idea a show was occurring at all, so they'd walk out in front of us, block our path, and almost hit us with the door as they came out of the bathroom (can't really blame them, but that was quite funny). 

Before you enter the runway, you usually can't see anything, and thus need someone cueing when the next model should start walking. In the shows I have done, this is typically either someone right next to the model receiving some kind of cue from someone else (via phone or video), or someone inconspicuously placed so that the model can receive visual cues from them but the person themself is unobtrusive to the audience—though now that that I think about it, there have been several times when the cue person was obtrusive to the audience, and was in every photo. Lol. 

Anyway, at this particular show, the cue person said, "Ok, when it's time for the next model to go, I'm going to whistle very loudly." ... Yeah, that didn't work too well. After the first few whistles, they opted to figure out how to do visual cues instead, and it ended up working alright. 

The basic template for a runway show: each person walks the runway on their own (or in twos or whatever), then at the end, everyone goes out walking in a line as the finale, then everyone either stays on the runway as the designer comes out and bows, or everyone goes straight offstage after the finale. 

For this show, we only rehearsed/discussed the first part—no mention of if we'd do a finale or not, and if so, how. Usually this is no big deal, because if you've done one finale, you've done them all. But this show already had a weird route, and people all over the route, and everyone was thrown off. In addition to the fact that we didn't really have an official "backstage" where we could go off the runway and coordinate; we were in the throes of the crowd the whole time. 

But most of us assumed there would be a finale, so we stayed around and stayed in line. However, since we hadn't communicated how it would go, many of the models ended up posing individually again at the bottom of the runway, instead of continuing in a fluid finale line. So then...it ended up almost like just running through the show a second time. No one knew what was going on. 

Then we got stuck at the back loop of the runway route, because the models at the front of the finale line didn't want to get in the way of the individual posing that was happening at the front. Then when we finally got through and started heading back up the stairs, someone yelled out for us to come back down for a group photo. They finished the group photo by the time we made it back down the stairs, so we headed back up the stairs. But then someone shouted out to actually come back down again, because we were going to go into the front room for more group photos. Which then took several minutes to get there, because now that the show was over, the crowd had dispersed even more, blocking our way to the room. 

We took photos and photos and more photos. I and another model slowly backed out of the room so we could go back upstairs to change. We managed to make our way back up, only to find that the theatre was actually full of people about to watch the film. We were on the balcony, so it didn't matter too much, but the designer's assignments met me and immediately started undressing me, only to realize that we were in plain view of anyone who happened to turn around. They let me quickly grab my clothes, then covered me a tiny bit more while I changed, but I was still just changing out in the open. 

I finally changed and gathered my stuff, exiting the venue and began walking home. I was on cloud nine. Despite all the mishaps, it was a great show, and I was happy with my performance. I eagerly opened my camera roll to see photos from the show...but all I had were the crappy photos and single walking video I had taken prior to the show started. 

Of course. I had forgotten this unfortunate truth: if you don't manage to have someone you know attending the show (this one sold out before my boyfriend could get a ticket), then despite the insane amount of photos and videos being taken at the event, you'll leave without a single one. 

So once I got home, the real work began: scouring Instagram for any mention of the event, hoping for a glimpse of myself in the show. And after a few hours of searching, I was successful! I got a really great video of my portion of the show. And since then I've gotten even more, though I have still yet to see any professional photos—though I did add some of the photographers on Instagram and will message them in a few days if they still haven't posted any. 

Overall, it was an incredibly fun experience. There's no chaos quite like the chaos of an amateur-level fashion show. I'm so lucky and thankful to be able to be a part of something like these, even when it feels to some like a total mess. 

returning to yesterday's draft feels very hard

abandoning my draft yesterday and making a new post instead was not great for morale. i had a hard time returning to that post to finish it today, which made me feel like a coward, like i'd never actually take a stab at describing monday's fashion show, because i'm scared of doing it badly. 

but maybe i will lower the bar a bit. the draft attempted to not only describe the fashion show, but also to make some meaning out of it and tie it to other things i've been writing about. and maybe i'll still do that, but i think i'll just try to describe the fashion show and then see how that goes. 

when i read the draft today, i felt myself getting caught up in "how do i describe this right so that i describe the whole event well," as in, making sure i describe it with chronological accuracy, kinda leaving nothing out. no idea why that all of a sudden became my approach, when i had been doing fine before with choosing salient moments or themes and having those carry the description, rather than feeling like i have to describe the thing super perfectly and fully. 

it reminds me when i did some figure drawing—usually i'm the nude model, but this time i was the one drawing—and i realized i was trying to draw things exactly as they appeared, which is kind of an impossible thing to accomplish; everything changes form when it changes form. 

the other, much more experienced artists had all developed a strategy for choosing what to include and how to include it, to end up with a beautiful finished product, rather than something totally true to the subject. as one of them put it, "once you leave here, no one will know what the subject looked like; all they'll see is your artwork, and will judge it on its own merits." 

after feeling stuck approaching the draft in this frustrating way, i talked it out a bit with my boyfriend on our way to the gym. as we walked, little moments from the show kept coming back to me: ones that made this particular show stick out from others i've done, in ways i'd like to share and remember. 

and that's the approach i want to take. i want to describe the parts of the show that stood out to me, ones that i'd tell someone if i spoke to them about it in person. i can tackle the narrativizing and meaning-making part later, if i want to. 

so tomorrow i think i'll start fresh. i had some good stuff going in my draft, but i think once i start finding my new direction, i'll be better equipped to enter the headspace i was in while i wrote the draft, and glean whatever parts fit in this new draft. 

oops, it's past midnight

i've been in a groove of posting daily, making sure to post before midnight so it counted for each day. but today i didn't get it out before midnight, and instead of pausing the movie i was watching with my boyfriend, i decided i'd take this opportunity to see how it felt to break the before-midnight streak. 

i actually did start writing relatively early today, around late afternoon. i got reasonably far, but didn't finish it in one sitting, figuring i'd come back to it later in the evening. but then i made dinner and we watched free solo, then of course had to watch the netflix special of the taipei 101 climb. 

anyway, what i was writing about before was my fashion show yesterday. and as i was writing it, i realized that describing fashion shows was actually a major reason i wanted to get better at writing. i often have the experience of "omg that was so fun, what a great event," but having absolutely no clue how to give any more detail than that. cool clothes, cool people, that's all i got. 

so it felt good to have much more to say this time! even though i didn't finish it yet, and hopefully i will return to it tomorrow. 

it did feel scary to try, because this is something i've wanted to do well. but i also noticed that the more i write, the more i keep mental notes of significant things as i experience them. before, i'd be super in the moment, enjoying the experience, but as soon as it was over, whatever it was that made it special felt over too; i couldn't quite remember or articulate it. 

but now, i'm getting a better idea of what to hold onto, what's special, what little moments give the best impression of the entire vibe of the event. 

so writing every day not only helps me give meaning to events in my life after the fact, it's also helping me experience them even better while they're happening! 

anyway, i had lots of fun yesterday and it was very fulfilling to be back in the model swing of things. more on that later!

pre-show nerves

it's 2:53pm (or 14:53, if you will—more on that some other time) and i have to leave in a little over half an hour. call-time for the fashion show tonight is 4pm and it's half an hour away. 

today's a gym day. we went early so i could still make it to the show on time. i got home and showered, which i usually do the night before a show, so i can apply lotion without worrying it'll get on the garments. i foolishly plucked my bikini line right after my shower—hair removal is definitely a night-before activity, not hours-before-the-show. i only did it in case i'm wearing a gown with a slit tonight, but now my bikini line is dotted with red, so i hope i don't have a slit after all. 

and yes, you heard that right. i have no idea what i'm wearing tonight. that's one aspect of modeling that might surprise people the most—how often there's no pre-show fitting, and instead we just show up and they throw something on us and hope it fits. designers that operate like that are thus incentivized to work with the same models more than once (and indeed i have worked with this designer twice before), since they know they'll have garments that fit them. but i digress. 

it's an unfortunate truth that my pre-show nerves tend to throttle my appetite, because ideally i'd eat enough during the day that i can make it through pre-show and the show without getting a headache from lack of food. it's a toss-up whether there will be any food or beverages for us backstage, and especially rare that it's something approaching a full meal rather than just snacks—though one memorable time, there was full barbecue catering backstage, with the organizers insisting, "this ain't victoria's secret; eat up!" 

i don't really know what to expect tonight, but i'm used to that. i've packed my model bag with everything i anticipate possibly needing, including makeup, jewelry, and even a braid of fake hair in case there's no hair stylist there and i need to make my hair look nice in a pinch. 

the one thing i might be lacking is a nude thong, which i ordered last minute on amazon, but might have to leave before it gets delivered. 

wish me luck! 

Please Grant Me Permission To Follow My Dreams

An excerpt from a real model call I applied to this week: "This is unpaid and no professional photos will be taken." 

You may wonder why I still eagerly applied. 

I wondered, too. It doesn't make much sense to be enthusiastic about a job that wouldn't pay me and also wouldn't be documented for my portfolio. What would I even be getting out of it? 

But there's something about filling a real, non-fabricated need. Sure, I'm not getting paid, but there are real stakes to the opportunity—it was modeling for a makeup artist instructor demonstrating a particular makeup look for her students. 

It just doesn't feel the same to arrange my own photoshoots, without having some purpose or need I'm addressing. Though if I had gotten the gig (I didn't—she had already found someone hours before I had seen it and messaged her), I would have gladly done just that: messaged some photographers asking if they'd like to collaborate on a shoot together later that day, since I'd already have professional hair and makeup done. I'm not exactly sure why that feels different, but it does. 

Perhaps it's not just the stakes. Perhaps it's the feeling of being granted permission. 

If I arrange a shoot myself, who the hell am I to think it's a worthy endeavor to photograph my face for two hours? 

If someone else deems me worthy of doing so, however? Well, then don't mind if I do! 

I've been thinking a lot about this idea of needing permission. I, like many others, have wanted to be a model for many, many years. For several of those years, I resigned myself to the fact that the only way to get there is to be plucked from obscurity by a modeling scout or agency, thus having the privilege of being a model bestowed upon you. 

Then a few years later, I decided to try out for some modeling opportunities myself and see what happened. The result surprised me: I began walking runway after runway. I ditched the notion of needing permission and reveled in my newfound amateur success. 

And amateur it was—though I was succeeding at my goal of Doing Modeling, I wasn't getting any money for it (it was a glorious day the first time I booked a paid gig, two years after I began, earning a whopping $75 for a 12+ hour day). 

I have loved it regardless of the lack of pay, but I've been starting to feel that ceiling again, where in order to progress, someone needs to grant me permission to do so. 

Late last year, I ran into a model friend who has been feeling similar. She's 19, with luscious dark hair framing her soft features that would never be turned down for being "too high-fashion" and wouldn't look out of place in a royal portrait of any era. We had met for the first time back in August at a casting—her first ever, and my first in Germany. We were both cast for several shows, the first of which was the very next day. Over the next two weeks, we walked for maybe three dozen different designers, and I watched her inexperience melt away with every 30-second backstage quick-change. 

As I caught up with her, she confided that she had thought for sure that those two weeks would end with her getting Noticed, and that surely agencies would be clamoring to sign her. I told her sometimes it just takes time. Everyone trying to be a model feels like it's "already too late," including her. Maybe she'd have the same experience as me, but I had a feeling if anyone would make it, she would. I think she thought I was just being nice when I jokingly told her to remember me when she's famous. 

I'm seeing her again tomorrow—we're both booked to model for one of the same designers we worked with in those fateful two weeks in August. This time, I'll congratulate her for her newly-announced signing with a modeling agency. It did just take some time—and not even that much of it. 

Sometimes, we wait for permission to follow our dreams, and it's granted. Sometimes we wait and wait and wait and it just never comes. 

I'm a bit tired of waiting now, so I think I'll try my hand at searching for a different route. One where I can find both stakes and permission on my own terms. 

Berlin-ing Too Close to the Sun

When I first told people I was moving to Berlin, most assumed I would be doing a bunch of clubbing, wearing black, and protesting any authority I could find. That's what you do in Berlin, right?

Uhhhh, I think I can do whatever I want, actually, I would say in my head. 

Since moving here, I have indeed been to church more times than the club. You can be an angel in Berlin!

Stereotypes aren't pulled from thin air, though—lots of people in Berlin are doing a lot of precisely those aforementioned things. The fashion designers here, too, can indeed be more intense than they might be in other places. 

Today I had an appointment for a casting with a fashion brand I haven't worked with before, though I recognized them from a previous event I've done, meaning we have lots of connections in common. I didn't think much about it, and applied right when I saw the casting call on Instagram. 

As I was getting ready this morning, I went to their Instagram profile to see what kind of shoes I should bring to the casting. I had a hunch they might be more of a "boots" brand than a "heels" brand, and their instagram feed confirmed my suspicions. 

Scrolling their Instagram also made me realize that I might have Berlin-ed a little too close to the sun. Sure, I knew before that their garments were on the tinier side, but baring skin isn't a big deal to me. As I looked closer, however, I saw that their accessories also included various drug paraphernalia that I sincerely hoped was fake, but looked eerily real. I felt a trickle of fear creep up my spine as I realized how intense some of their outfits really were. 

My boyfriend reminded me that I of course don't have to wear anything I don't want to wear; I could just politely say no, thank you and decide not to do the show, if it came to that. 

Quite right. I just hadn't ever been in that situation before. I pride myself on being an easygoing, easy-to-work-with model that will wear whatever you put on me, whether it's giant flapping wings and a feather covering most of my face (this has happened) or some strings you found on the ground and thought might look good on a person (this has not happened—yet). So the idea of having boundaries unnerved me a smidge. I wasn't sure how I would handle it. 

But this reminder calmed me down, and as the fear subsided, the clothes didn't even look quite so scary anymore. There were lots of outfits that I even liked, and would be happy to wear; they weren't all super scary. 

I finished getting ready and steeled myself for whatever might come. To my delight, when I arrived, the designers were perfectly warm and welcoming. They put me in a few different outfits, all pretty tame compared to what I was frightfully imagining. I was even worried I didn't have the right intense look that they wanted from their models—but as I shed my coat, scarf, and gloves, they gave me a once-over and pursed their lips approvingly, saying, "Nice look." 

After taking some photos and seeing my walk, they said they'd send me the address for the show and sent me on my merry way. I left feeling lighter. 

Fear can make anything look ten times as scary. Things might turn out much better than you expected, and creativity is a beautiful thing even when it's a bit intense. It's an honor to bring a designer's vision to life.

I will be checking the vision a little more closely next time, though.

Trying Means I Might Fail

Lately I've been feeling down about my abilities—as a model, as a writer, as a creative in general. 

On a typical day, I'm quite positive about my skill level, and accepting of the fact that getting better at anything would require putting in an amount of effort I'd frankly rather not put in, because I'd rather prioritize other things. I pride myself in being content with things like this. 

But lately it's been much harder. Rather than appreciating what skill and success I have achieved, I've been staring down the improbability of ever accomplishing true mastery of anything. My runway walk sucks, I'll never get signed with an agency and get any commercial work, I'll never be a great writer, I'll never be truly great at anything. 

When I think about it logically, it makes sense to be feeling this way in this particular moment. I started this blog in part to take a stab at becoming great—and actually trying means now I can actually fail. 

Before putting in the nitty gritty work it takes to get there, it's easy to imagine the possibilities of how it might go. Without ever trying, you never have to face the reality of giving it your all and failing. As soon as you start trying, now you're actually on the hook for the outcome. 

So now I have started. And now I see the path to success stretching interminably far in front of me, feeling further away with each step instead of getting any closer. 

It even feels like a failure to be writing about this feeling, rather than first writing about how I usually handle it and helping others handle it better, too. But I think writing about and thus through it is part of the whole process of getting anywhere I want to be. I have to face and process my emotional experience of it in order to ever have the gumption to keep trying again. 

I do keep trying again, even when I doubt myself. I just got home from a model casting-turned-fitting—which means the casting was a success and I made it in the show—and I reminded myself that even though I don't have the best model walk in the world, I'm not a total failure at modeling. I'm punctual, easy-to-work-with, and I take direction well—which in some ways is even better than nailing it on the first try, anyway. 

Most of all, I genuinely enjoy doing it. At the end of the day, that matters much more to me than whether I'll ever be great. 

immediately post-post

i never have more ideas for a blogpost than immediately after hitting "publish." 

even at a daily frequency, the friction just builds right back up and my expansive possibility horizon shrinks a bit, and i struggle to choose what to write about. 

but as soon as i hit publish, it opens right back up like magic. 

maybe because it's easy to tell exactly how i'm feeling right after i hit publish. "expressing exactly how i'm feeling" is one of my favorite ways to post, but sometimes it's hard to wade through it all and decipher something enough to be legible. 

i'm not sure. i'm going to go have some leftover vietnamese food and hang out with my boyfriend now. 

what's the point, anyway?

writing a blogpost every day means facing my own writing every day. honestly, sometimes that makes me want to quit and crawl into a hole. 

why is everything so hard? why can i not just write effortlessly? why am i even trying? why am i doing it in public, why not work in private until i'm more confident? why do anything? why am i so bad at this? why do i keep using the same words and sentence structures? why is it so hard to make sense? why even say anything at all if everyone else can say it better? 

i don't really know why i'm doing this and not just giving up and being as-good-as-writing as i am right now in this moment. and i don't know if writing every day will help—of course some part of me believes that surely it will, but another part of me wonders if i'm just taking the easy way out every day and not putting in enough effort to actually make progress. 

it really depends on the day how i'm feeling about writing, and about modeling, about myself, and so on. most days i feel pretty good about myself and my ability to get better, but some days it's just hard. 

after publishing yesterday's post, i turned to my boyfriend and said, "my post today was pretty bad. but it was way worse when i first wrote it!" and yeah, that is an accomplishment. 

maybe it's just been several days where i leave blog-writing until the end of the day, and then i don't feel like i have enough energy to put much effort in, then what i do manage to write is much less nice than i'd like it to be. 

maybe i'll try making a point to start writing early in the day and see how that goes. i'm a bit of a night owl, so i'm no stranger to late-night productivity, but i've also been much more tired in recent days since starting going to the gym. i guess it doesn't really matter why, i don't really care to justify it to myself—i'll just decide to try something else and see if that works better. 

i do know that doing something consistently, even though it's hard, is good for me and helps me grow. so even when i feel like it's useless and stupid and it won't amount to anything—i'm still going to write. 

walking on ice

i moved to germany almost a year ago, and it's been a lovely place to live. i have even enjoyed winter here a lot, going on daily walks with my boyfriend, and i will gladly bundle up for any amount of cold. 

the cold isn't really the issue—it's the ice. they don't salt the sidewalks here, so sometimes entire stretches of walking paths become treacherous sheets of ice, for days on end. 

sometimes it even extends all the way to our doorstep and all down the street, so that i can't leave the apartment without fearing for my life—and perhaps that's a bit dramatic, but it does make me truly scared.

i genuinely have no idea how anyone handles this. i've adjust pretty well to life in europe, but this is the first thing that makes me worried about my ability to stay sane here long-term; there is certainly no way i can adapt to walkways turning into literal ice! 

today, the ice was localized to our neighborhood park, so we only had to encounter if we really chose to. 

we did, in order to try one possible solution, which is these rubber contraptions with spikes on the bottom, that you stretch over your shoes to give traction while walking on ice (pictured below).

unfortunately, it didn't magically take away the fact that we were still literally walking on ice. 

it's difficult to describe how disorienting it is to suddenly not be able to walk in a way that i feel certain i'll be able to keep myself upright. i felt out of control and helpless. 

i will concede that we at least didn't have any near-falls like we had when walking on the ice without the spikes. 

i'm not quite sure how i'll face this moving forward. maybe i'll keep practicing, or maybe we'll find some better spikes. or maybe i'll just stay inside whenever the walkways turn to ice. 

Our shoe-spiked shoes on the ice. 

frustration temporarily compromises my problem-solving capacity

yesterday i got frustrated putting my contacts in, because one was blurry and refused to settle in the right spot. if i pulled my lower eyelid just so, the lens was perfectly clear, but as soon as i released, it went right back to being blurry. 

i tend to forget to switch them out at the month mark, so ok, fine, it's probably about time to do that anyway. i removed the blurry contact, threw it out, and replaced it with a fresh one. 

same problem. 

now i was really frustrated. i calmly walked to the other room and informed my boyfriend of my growing frustration, just to keep him abreast of the situation. he wondered if the lens might be inside out? 

definitely not! it's the second lens to have the same problem, and they're definitely not both inside out! plus, if i get it in exactly the right position, then it's perfectly clear! but for some reason, it won't settle!

with a huff, i decided to just take both contacts out, wear glasses for the day, and resolve to book an eye exam soon. 

today, i went to try again. this time, i put the left contact in fine—that one was fine yesterday, too. 

when i went to put in the right contact, i noticed it looked a little funky. ah, yes. it's inside out. 

i flipped it the other way, put it in my eye, and it settled instantly, leaving my vision clear as day.

why didn't i just check that yesterday?

with the frustration no longer blurring my view, i realized it would have been trivial to simply check if it was inside out. but in the moment, that didn't make any sense, and i was already so fed up with the entire situation. 

Calm Me is quite curious about Frustrated Me's experience. it was a such a simple fix, but i had refused to even try. why?

i'm not sure. but it does feel good to be curious about my experience, rather than being frustrated with the frustration and falling down an endless spiral of compromised problem-solving capacity. 

doing the thing is always better than not doing the thing

before i do the thing, i often question, "what's the point of doing the thing anyway?" surely when i do the thing this once, it's not moving the needle enough to matter in the grand scheme of things. so why do it at all? why not just skip today and then do it better some other day?

on the days when i overcome this doubt and do the thing anyway, i'm always struck by just how different doing the thing is from not doing the thing. 

my boyfriend and i are starting to lift—he's done it before, but for me, this is the first time i'm trying to consistently go to the gym and build strength. last week we were planning to go to the gym before our other plans, but were quickly running out of time to do so. 

i'm always quick to say, "let's just do this another day," if things aren't panning out how we intended. but my boyfriend insisted we go anyway, and i found myself pondering this on the walk over. what if we get there and we only have time for one set of one exercise? would it still be worth it? why not just wait until another day?

but if we hadn't gone that day, then it would be easy to just kick the can further down the road the next time, too. "not today" turns into "not this month" and then before we know it, another year goes by without making any progress toward accomplishing the thing. 

on the other hand, doing the thing once gives you so much more information than never having done the thing at all. even if it doesn't feel like a lot, you only need a small amount of information to then inform your next step, which you wouldn't have gotten by not doing the thing at all, even in a tiny way.

even if i hadn't gotten to any actual exercise that day, simply going to the gym at all meant i gained lots of new information: now i knew which entrance to go to, how many flights of stairs to climb, how to scan the qr code to enter the gym, where in the app to find it, how to use the lockers in the locker room, etc. meaning next time i go, i wouldn't have to worry about any of that, and could focus on the next thing to tackle. 

so as often as i can, for whatever the "thing" is at that moment—lifting or writing a blogpost or modeling or playing the piano or learning swedish—i'll overcome my doubts and simply do the thing. 

Just Take More Digitals

Today I took updated modeling photos (called "digitals" or "polaroids/polas" in Europe) so that I can apply to some casting calls and agencies. And it only just hit me that nothing is stopping me from taking new ones every week, if I wanted to. 

Basically, your digitals showcase what you look like in your natural state: no styling or makeup, in a basic outfit, in a few different poses (full-length, up-close, profile, etc.). Extremely simple in theory, but I've hit a few roadblocks over the years: couldn't afford to have a professional take them; didn't have a clean, blank wall to take them on; difficulty taking them myself because I didn't have a tripod; etc. 

These godforsaken photos have been a major bottleneck for me. Thus far, I've been fine without good ones; the modeling I have done has not been hindered by the poor quality of my digitals. But I've also never managed to get signed to a modeling agency—which would get me actual paid work, rather than mostly-unpaid runway work—and the bulk of one's application to said agencies is your digitals. 

Last year, I thought I finally solved this problem. Our neighbor is a photographer and has a studio, and boom, he could take the photos for me! They were more professional than I had ever had before, so I thought for sure they were "good." Months later I was still using the same photos, except now when I attached them to applications, I thought, "Hmm, my hair's a bit longer now, maybe I should make a note of that..." as I slowly realized that that's exactly what digitals are for, to show precisely what you look like right now. 

I also realized that just because photos are taken with a professional camera doesn't mean that makes them automatically good as digitals. Digitals are supposed to showcase your potential as a model, and mine were showcasing my nerves and inexperience in front of a camera. Well, no, not exactly—my inexperience taking digitals specifically. Modeling is easier for me, because wearing a whacky or avant-garde outfit means I can inhabit a character, and feels like permission to express loudly without embarrassment. But digitals are explicitly not a character; it's just me. That felt much more vulnerable and scary.

It took me until today to realize the solution to all of this: simply take more digitals. Then they would be more up-to-date than if I only took them once a year, and in the process, I'd get more and more practice taking them, thus they'd get better every time. 

It feels quite silly to have taken this long to realize this. I'm sure the standard recommendation is to take digitals again every few months, but for some reason I have to learn things my way. It may take much longer, but it does feel quite satisfying to finally discover things when I do. 

Time will tell if agencies like these digitals any better (I just applied to five). 

If not? Oh well, I'll take new ones in a month. 

My new and improved digitals, that I will try to not get attached to, now that I plan to retake them in a month.

things i love so far about having a blog

1. i've made enough posts now that they don't all fit on the home page. some (ok, so far just one) are nestled under "older posts." it feels so cool and satisfying to do something multiple times. 
2. i can just end a blogpost wherever i want. i can think "hmm, it would probably be good to have some sort of conclusion here that feels satisfying." and then say, "actually, i'm just going to end it there instead." and hit publish. how freeing!
3. i thought before that it was like, totally impossible for me to write anything (longer than a tweet) without an overarching Frame. when i wrote my e-book, it contained a bunch of things that i had never been able to fully articulate until i started writing it within the frame of the e-book. so i thought my next writing would also have to be under some large-scale frame (and i certainly had many ideas, but also reservations and worries that it would feel restraining to move from one contained frame to the next). but now, i've somehow found a frame (this blog) that lets me freely write whatever. 
4. i can write anything!!!!! weeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!
5. i've been wanting to do this for a long time but something just kept getting in the way. namely that i didn't know what site would be good for it, all i knew was that substack wasn't it. but i'm not sure what was in my way of simply looking around and even trying to find a good site. anyway, i love that i knew wanted to do this, and now i did it, and it's as great as i thought it would be. it feels good to know myself like that. 
6. i'm actively working toward a goal of mine (to write better). 
7. i'm actively using my brain!
8. what felt good about tweeting so much was it felt like clearing an emotional and intellectual backlog. but at some point it did feel cleared, and i don't feel the urge to tweet much anymore. but i think what actually happened was i cleared the backlog of things that felt good to tweet about, not the entire backlog of things i have to express. and now that i have a new medium, i'm finding all new nooks and crannies of that backlog. feels good!

on writing a blogpost where i basically just write my every thought as it comes

that was kinda fun. it feels like a proto-essay, like a rough draft in its rawest form. letting my brain make whatever connections it wanted, without trying to make them fit neatly together, narrating thought processes in some places, just letting jumps exist in others. 

like everything, it seems like the best approach is a balance. trust where my brain naturally brings up new topics that feel somehow connected to what i'm writing, but then actually do some investigating and finagling to see if it does actually fit well. 

it could be a fun exercise to take that proto-essay and make it more fleshed out as a future blogpost. but who knows if i actually will. 

that reminds me, i'd like to write about my attempt to bridge the gap between urge and action. probably not right now, but sometime. eventually. 

a blogpost where i basically just write my every thought as it comes

sometimes i don't write down brainstorm notes because if i commit the idea to paper, then in collapses into whatever words i haphazardly choose. if i don't write it down, then it can remain vast and all-encompassing. 

the problem is, if i don't write it down then sometimes i don't remember it at all. 

is bad data worse than no data at all? i used to have a knockoff fitbit just to count my steps. but half the time it didn't sync right, and some days it only record 100-odd steps, when i certainly did over 5,000. but a year later, all i'll have is the record of 100 steps, and gone will be my memory of which days the data was actually totally wrong. 

how much should i trust the connections my brain involuntarily makes? 

i try to practice secure attachment to the thoughts that pop into my head. i'm not the biggest fan of "secure vs. insecure attachment" language but that's the best way i can describe my attitude here. (is it really? how much should i trust the ideas my brain involuntarily has? maybe i should actually investigate these things more, rather than just going with the first thing i think of that feels kind of right.) 

i've described this before as "not clingy, not scared they’ll abandon u and be gone forever…just calm and warm." hmm. let me go google what secure attachment is. (i do this ~often but maybe i should do it even more. sometimes i have a good grasp on things, but you never know when you've run off with a not-quite-right impression of something.) 

yeah i'm not really sure how to evaluate whether it's a good description or not. not really? i guess what i mean is one specific aspect of secure attachment, not necessarily the entirety of it. but is that enough? 

i saw a video the other day of a STEM student saying how humanities concepts are easier for outsiders to discuss, because they're named in plain english, not opaque jargon like "gnomon" or "lemma" (i don't know what either of these mean, i just googled random math jargon). but that kind of frustrated me, because oftentimes people assume they understand a concept just because they can vaguely guess at it if it's named in plain english. (oh, i'd like to write my next blogpost in sentence case, actually.) but if they guess wrong, then now they and their interlocutor are talking past each other, because they're not even discussing the same thing! 

sometimes our intuitions about something are actually totally off-base. did you know sometimes adding risk can make something safer than it was with less risk? adding more complexity to a thing lets us know we should stay on guard, not let our defenses down. preserving cultural artifacts when subtitling a foreign movie (rather than choosing some makeshift "equivalent" in the culture it's being translated for)—not to mention keeping it subtitled rather than dubbing—keeps the viewer aware that they're existing in a new context, where things might not be what they expect. 

my current strategy

blog at least once a day (more if i so please)

write down blogpost ideas in a note on my phone

choose one of these or just write about what i'm currently thinking/feeling/experiencing

when i have the capacity, do a more fleshed out piece rather than just doing the above

post whenever i have the urge

don't overanalyze; hit publish when it's approximately good enough

anytime i have an idea of what a blogpost "shouldn't be," make a blogpost exactly like that

most importantly, have fun and keep going :)

never punish the urge

if i want to brush my teeth at 3 in the afternoon, then i brush my teeth at 3 in the afternoon. 

i tend to have an aversion for doing things simply because they're "good for me" or because i "should." so that means in order to build a habit, i have to build it entirely from scratch. i have to want to do the thing. so whenever that desire shows up, i do the thing, even if it's at a time that's not when that thing is "normally" done. even if it means i brush my teeth 4 times a day rather than 2—because any nonzero number of times a day is better than zero times a day. 

so if i want to post a blogpost, even if i already posted one that day, then i guess i'm going to post a blogpost, even if i already posted one that day. 

repeating myself and leaving things out

i used to have a major aversion to repeating myself. it felt embarrassing. 

now i can't get enough of it. i could repeat the same thing in a million different frames. i could even repeat something the exact same way a million times. distributing information is hard! simplifying then repeating one message is a great way for it to actually come across to people. 

i'm also currently obsessed with cutting/editing/curating. i haven't quite yet arrived at a nice, succinct word for it, but the act of choosing what to leave out. i realized a few years ago that—much to my dismay at the time—the only way to share the entirety of an experience with someone is to literally experience it together; unless you do that, then you have to leave stuff out when you tell someone about it. and even then! you're both having an entire internal experience, which then you'd have to make choices about how to share that with them, if you wanted to. 

i realized this was a skill i could get better at. ok, i can't share the entirety of my experience with anyone, but i can also choose anything to share when i do choose what to share. 

accepting i'm allowed to repeat myself means i never have to get it right on the first try. i could write 1,000 blogposts taking a slightly different angle on approximately the same idea. i could hold it in my hand and turn it over and over again, in different lighting, from different distances, at different times of day. that also means i get to leave different things out every time. 

to be pushed or to pull

berlin fashion week is in two weeks. yesterday, after days of searching instagram for model casting calls, i finally sighed and gave up. i couldn't find a single one. i resigned myself to never modeling again if this was how things were going to go. 

today i received an instagram dm from a designer i've previously worked with—she asked if i was interested in walking in her upcoming fashion show. 

for some reason, outcomes seem to improve when i cease all effort entirely. at times in my life, i have completely given up trying to affect the outcome of anything at all. if anything was going to happen, then it would have to be purely through divine providence. i refused to lift a finger. 

perhaps that sounds like a poor strategy for getting what you want. the key to its success, however, was that i didn't exert any anti-effort—i didn't work against or reject any positive opportunities that did present themselves. in fact, i'd eagerly accept them! anything exerted beyond that, however, seemed to be utterly in vain. 

on the surface, this seemed to work. until i looked around one day and found myself despondent on a messy couch, cocooned day after day in my depressing apartment working a job that drained me. i was still just as open to opportunity as ever, but my effort muscles had utterly atrophied. 

the failure of my effort-aversive strategy had only just began to sink in when i met my now-boyfriend, who seemed to exert effort as easily as a gentleman opens a door for a lady—without a hint of hesitation.

that was the nail in the coffin. i decided i needed to rebuild my effort-exerting abilities from scratch. 

that was over a year ago now, and though i still find myself grappling with the balance of effort versus surrender, i am satisfied with the rehabilitation work i've accomplished. it now feels like a choice i can make, rather than surrender being my one and only option.

i don't know that i'll ever totally resolve the tension between the pushing and pulling of my fate. for now, i've settled on putting in whatever effort i feel up for, then surrendering control of the outcome, letting the divine plan decide what fruits my effort produces. lucky for me, i like most fruits. 

blog blog blog

if i let myself get too caught up in Blogging The Right Thing, then i’ll fall victim to indecision and inertia. so instead of waiting for the right blog post to fall from the sky, i’ll do as i do on most other platforms: post post post! i’d rather have constant spurts of whatever i’m thinking about and at least stay in the habit of writing and publishing, then work from there. but it’s still quite hard! i want to spend time on something good, but i also need time for the idea of something good to even come to me! i’ve found recently that the frame is crucial, and without a frame, it’s hard to just invent something from thin air (though of course i could, with practice, and i’d like to!). i had an idea that any time i have a thought like, “oh i shouldn’t/couldn’t write a blogpost like that,” then i should definitely then write a blogpost exactly like that. examples include: a one-line blogpost, just-a-paragraph-of-what-i’m-thinking-about blogpost, etc. soooooooo yeah, i guess i’ll leave it there? well, one more thought. i’m worried if i let myself do this, then i’ll take the easy way out and only ever post off-the-dome posts, and not challenge myself with more fleshed out writing. but posting is better than not posting! 

bloggy woggy draftie wafties

i've been wanting to start a blog for a while. a place to just dump thoughts, iterate short drafts, and hone my writing skills. but i tend to wait until things feel inevitable, so i have waited until now. 

recently i completed my first long-form writing project, a (pretty short) e-book about lurking less and living more by being yourself on the internet. untangling my nebulous thoughts on a wide-ranging topic, faffing about on a page until something started to take form for each chapter, ruthlessly editing my haphazard word salad into something that made sense, articulating something i care deeply about: the combination of these things made it feel like genuinely meaningful, challenging, and rewarding work. 

today i wrote a recommendation letter on behalf of my dad, for an award someone is nominating him for. this project hit all of the same beats above—albeit on a much smaller scale—with the added benefit of making me cry several more times (because i love my father even more than i love posting on the internet). in the letter i included a quote from an old blog post of his, one so poignant it still makes me cry every time i read it. so i then found myself rereading the entire post, and realizing once again what a kick-ass writer my dad is, and how much i'd love to be a kick-ass writer myself. 

i've always cared deeply about doing things well. after a while that began to paralyze me, so i had to go the other direction and try to not care at all, finding entirely new benchmarks. for the aforementioned e-book, i'd often stop and wonder, "is this is even good writing?" then tell myself, "i actually don't care if it's 'good.' i care that i have something to say and that i am saying it." unpolished and published is 1,000,000x better than polished and gathering dust somewhere on a mental shelf, right? 

but now i'd like to go all in, posting and publishing way more writing, so that i can become a kick-ass writer. i'm not sure exactly what it will look like, but i'd like to be exploratory in this space, challenge myself, and most of all, keep coming back to my goal whenever i fall away from it. i might do a mix of off-the-dome type posts (like this one), and more ambitious, think-about-it-all-day-or-week-or-month type posts. you're welcome to read these, but i won't be focusing on any audience, just experimenting for my own sake, in public. 

so welcome to my blog!