archivin and survivin volume 2

More divinely gorgeous gems from my collection of model paraphernalia.



OK, these next three aren't really "model" pictures; they're photo-booth postcards.

This was one of many that I made in Paris; I could barely stand to pass a photo booth without blowing 2 Euro on a weird self-portrait.


Marty and I made this at a photo booth in the Brussels airport on our way to Copenhagen. I visited Brussels twice while I was living in Paris, and I ADORE it. Still really want to go to Antwerp someday.


Look carefully at Dr Livingstone and the "savage": it's me and Marty, with Marty's face hilariously darkened and superimposed upon the body of a Kenyan tribesman. We were in such hysterics over this shit that we nearly missed our plane.



These two pictures are from the same Japanese facial vibrator shoot that I posted about last week. What is this mysterious aerosol spray that can be used on both the hair and the skin? Perhaps we are not meant to know.



These next two Polaroids were shot at the end of a work day, just for fun. The first one is from HK Cosmopolitan Bride (my VERY FIRST job in HK, shot the day after I arrived), and the second is from a makeup advertisement job shot by one of my favorite HK photographers, Lester Lee. Polaroid film is expensive and most photogs don't like to waste it, so making a silly souvenir 'roid is a rare act of kindness.



Before a runway show, every model must attend a "fitting" to try on all the clothes that she will wear on the catwalk. At the fitting, the client photographs each model wearing her outfits, then arranges the photos on a giant "storyboard." Just before the show starts, models consult the storyboard to ensure that they're wearing the correct outfit and queuing up to walk the catwalk in the correct order. I love to make wacky poses in my fitting photographs: on the day of the show, the sight of my weird self on the storyboard always makes me laugh.

This one was from a Christian Dior show in Shanghai. Dior is one of the coolest clients in HK: the producers replicate the sets, outfits and makeup from Paris Fashion Week so meticulously that it's easy to pretend I'm a top model debuting one of fashion's most important collections for the likes of Anna Wintour, instead of modeling this season's stuff (it's only truly fashionable to model next season's stuff, you know) for a bunch of rich Shanghainese ladies-who-lunch. The producers of the HK/China version of the Dior show are so scrupulous about recreating the Paris experience that they even try to book similar-looking models to wear each outfit. At this show, I was the Stella Tennant-proxy.


I don't remember this show. But if you look closely at the bottom of the page, you can see the notes that my dresser took in Chinese: it was her responsibility to remember whether or not to tuck in my shirt, exactly how to tie the jacket, and which handbag and shoes I should wear. MY responsibility was to walk to the end of the runway and back without stumbling, falling, or having a nip-slip; half the time I can barely manage that.


The models endured hours of fittings and rehearsals for this next runway show, which was a fashion spectacle mounted for the enjoyment of the most loyal clients of a high-end HK department store. The "catwalk" was an elaborately-constructed set meant to look like the bow of a ship; unfortunately, the "gangplank" was so steep that nobody could walk on it without stumbling, not even the male models unencumbered by high-heeled shoes. I lurched, staggered, and lost my balance several times on the runway; afterwards I was totally pissed at myself for having done a shoddy job. But at least the Polaroids turned out funny.