Rating: 💋 💋 😘
To be fair, the photo shoot is worth more than two and a half kisses. That's the restaurant's rating.
When I arrived at the studio, everyone was nice, friendly, and professional. I did not feel the need to use the mace I had stowed in my pocket, so that is a positive sign. Instead, I filled out a form, met my makeup artist, and went to the dressing room to put on my first look.
1. Casual: The makeup artist told me the Calvin Klein "In My Calvins" natural advertisement scheme inspired the look. I wore my ripped skinny jeans, a soft white tank top, and bare feet. The make up artist fixed my curls a little bit, slapped on some concealer and lip gloss, and called it a day. Oh yeah. That natural. My photographer, Eli, was super cool, kinda looked like John Mulaney, had a goofy sense of humor, and was wearing a Ramones tee shirt. We got along just fine. I definitely struggled the most with this shoot, but I think that is because it was so bare and I was just getting to know the team. All my vulnerabilities were heightened. Still, it was fun and pretty straightforward. Eli told me what to do, clicked his camera, and the whole thing went by very quickly.
Also, the makeup artists answered my lifelong question of what color are my undertones? Every online test has only confused me more. Thanks to the pros, I now know I have yellow undertones, which are very tricky, and I should invest in Nars foundation. I'll have to look into that.
2. Athletic: I could have done a swimsuit shoot instead, but I don't have a tan right now so I simply did not have it in my heart. Instead, I wore black running capri pants, sneakers I had literally just taken out of the box, and a blue sports bra. No make up was added, but the makeup artist piled my hair in a ponytail on top of my head, just like my mom used to style my hair back in preschool. I was not sure how I was doing on the modeling portion of this test, but another makeup artist told the girl doing my hair I have "great texture," and I was like okay, thank you. A little reassurance goes a long way. They slathered me in lotion so my skin would have a sheen without actually being gross and sweaty, and when Eli found out I used to dance he had me jumping and stretching and stuff. I was so glad I had never worn the sneakers before. When I kicked my feet in the direction of the camera, I knew I wasn't giving a detailed view of a grimy sole.
3. Urban/Personal Expression: They told me I could wear something of my own style, so I brought a crop top. I am who I am. This is when the fun kicked up a notch. I danced around in my bell bottom jeans with the star-print on the back, a black tank crop top with "Heavenly" scripted across the front in red, black suede high heel booties, a choker necklace from my Granmom's collection, and dangly earrings my brother gave me for Christmas back in 8th grade. It is a truth universally known that boys who have sisters get the best gifts. They know what they're doing. My make-up artist glammed me up too, giving me rust-colored glossy lips and tossled curls. We bonded over L'Oreal voluminous curved brush mascara, which is the best. This drugstore brand is proven to trump its designer counterparts, and none of the women in my family wear anything else. I highly recommend, and knowing a professional makeup artist agrees makes me even more confident in my choice.
Eli asked me if I am afraid of heights and, as facts would have it, I love heights. He took me up onto the top of the building's fire escape and it was so cool to look out over Midtown. It's not the prettiest part of the city, but Ferris Bueller - as always - was right. Anything looks peaceful and beautiful from great heights. Eli agreed I had to look moody against the industrial background, and I had a great time with our little indie rock album cover shoot. He said, "sick," a lot, so I was like, okay, maybe I'm doing this right. Each nice thing meant so much more because the compliments were given sparingly throughout the studio, making them worth all the more.
4. Elegant: For my last look, I wore my black and gold gown from my college's senior ball, so now I feel good knowing I didn't spend that money on a dress I would only wear one time. The makeup artist glammed up my makeup even more, complete with a dusting of gold glitter, and twisted my curls up into a loose updo. During the shoot, Eli joked about posing for "my HBO special." I was supposed to channel "a badass." It was a great time. It all went by too fast.
Then I was back in my street clothes, anxiously awaiting my meeting with the director.
Fortunately, I did not waste all those hours on a dead-end opportunity. The director was enthusiastic about my photographs and walked me through the Model Guide and all the different types of modeling I can pursue. I signed up for digital prints, a composite card, and he threw in a website because he said he wants me to pursue this. I'm ready. I just got the email with the Model Guide, which has a whole plan for how to self-promote and recommends yoga and meditation, so I'm like groovy, already there. I also have the folder of all my digital images downloaded onto my laptop, and I'm excited to receive the rest so I can start submitting myself to castings. I don't totally know what comes next, but I know it's gonna end up with me winning Oscars and living in Hollywood, so I'm pretty psyched to continue on this journey. I'm very grateful for the studio team supporting me and helping me along the way.
I didn't have time to reflect on the photo shoot and its outcome last Sunday. I had to book it to Bryant Park for my sister's birthday brunch at L'Adresse. As I ran, suitcase full of looks flying behind me, I scrambled to text my parents my order.
Of course, when I arrived at the restaurant, I saw my family was at a table in the very center of the restaurant. My little suitcase and I had a great time dancing around waiters and patrons, pardon me, excuse me, make way, coming through. We made it though, somehow. I was dying for a drink...of water. I had not had one of those since I left my apartment. This lady was parched.
Not parched enough to not order a raspberry mimosa while waiting for our food though.
The restaurant was French-owned, hence the name, but advertised as "contemporary American." In practice, that seemed to be an amalgamation of all different sorts of dishes, with a fancy twist. Reilly ordered the French toast that came with candied bacon, mascarpone, bruleed apples, and maple syrup. It looked absolutely decadent. My mom went with the avocado toast, complete with smoked salmon, avocado mash, baby lettuce, kabosu vinaigrette, and poached egg on sourdough. My dad, Shannon, and I all copied off each other and ordered the chorizo omelette. I considered the tofu crunch bowl or the green omelette, but I had to go with my gut. Smoked gouda, chorizo, and avocado with eggs sounded really freaking good.
I enjoyed the meal. It was good. If I was saying this and you could hear my tone right now, you'd be wondering what the but was.
Are you wondering?
It was good, buuuuuuuuuut the mimosa was a bit too tart. The omelette was a lot too salty. Super, super salty. I think the cells in my body had to call in back-up support because they were definitely freaking out. My Dad thinks they overloaded the gouda, and I have to say I agree. It was yummy, but also, whoa. I hadn't eaten cheese in a week and it was a rude awaking. The avocado cream melted into the gooey cheese deliciously, but absolutely no part of the dish cut the fat and cleared the palate. It tasted good at the start, but got more and more difficult to eat the further you went. Also, it was the weirdest-looking omelette I have ever seen. Isn't an omelette supposed to be folded? I support the creativity, but this is not an omelette. It is a pizza with an egg crust. If it was an omelette, the chef would not have had room to fit quite so much chorizo and gouda, and that would've been a good thing. Less really can be more. Also, it was the chewiest chorizo I have ever come across. What happened to the poor little sausage that made it so tough?
For dessert, the waiters brought out rake and we all sang to Shannon. It was a super sweet gesture, and she was so cute, beaming with her cake and the bouquet of pink roses my Dad brought her. Yay Shannon! I appreciated the rake selection, a Russian specialty according to the menu, because it probably is not the dessert I would have ever picked if given the choice. The gluten-free layer cake with caramel and honey sponge, toasted white chocolate and dulce de leche cream, and dried plums was fluffy, light, and sweet. The bite I had melted in my mouth and reminded me to branch out and take risks. Chocolate cake is always a winner, but sometimes you have to go out on a limb and order the Russian cake you don't understand for an unexpected delight.
Still, I came home with much regret. I think after eating super health-conscious all week I was like, oh come on, let's celebrate. Get the sausage and cheese. It assailed my body. The tofu crunch bowl could have been just as delicious, and I probably would not have been lying on the couch like a slug, unable to eat dinner, hours later while I watched the Grammys. New challenge: order whatever looks cleanest wherever I eat. We'll see how that goes...
As exciting a day as it was for me, with the photo shoot, and my family, with our boisterous brunch (that stuffed us all to the gills with no discrimination), it was also a tough day. Shortly after I arrived at brunch, my Dad received a text from his friend who has family in Los Angeles. "Oh, no, Kobe Bryant died." My brain straight up did not understand that collection of words. It seemed an impossible thing. Kobe Bryant can't die. The day got even worse as we found out how, that his beautiful daughter was there, and that friends and the crew that passed away as well. You don't have to love basketball, or be a parent, or come from LA or Philly, to care. It's senselessly tragic. I am afraid I don't have anything super helpful to say about it. I am just as shocked as everyone else. It's horrible. It reminds me that humans do not have a hand in the equation the universe writes for us. They weren't doing anything reckless, unusual, or bad. It doesn't matter. No matter how much we set plans, the control we have in our world is extremely limited. Understanding that does not have to be a hopeless thing though. I think it is just a helpful reality to accept, and a poignant reminder to live as fully as possible. Don't be to cool to love people. It is obvious to the world how much Kobe loved Gianna, and that's important to their story and helpful for the rest of us to see. That is an example worth following.
So, on that note, it's been quite an emotional rollercoaster. I really appreciate all of you, my readers, for your support and community. I hope you are doing well, and I send you all my love.
XX,
MK
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