Since I'm no longer on the road, I love keeping up my friends who are so that I can live by them vicariously. This is why I am addicted to Facebook, ahem, yep...I am one of "those". ;) I guess I could have worse addictions...actually I know I could, so Facebook and my reality shows via Localtv-Satellite.com are just a little source of sanity in what has turned into a pretty mundane lifestyle compared to Leashing Peacocks. LOL!
So, anyways, where was I going with this? Ah yes...on Facebook yesterday I was reading about a friend who was having issues with disappearing items from her models' apartment. Apparently one of her roomies was making off with everything from food items, to cosmetics and even a bra. A bra? Ugh! Reminds me of my BFF's roommate in Milan who would take her underwear from the drying rack, use them and them leave them balled up all over the apartment floors when she was done with them. Like I've said before, pretty don't mean clean...or sane.
I really lucked out that in all the years I traveled I only had one item ever go missing. It was my favorite pair of workout shorts (by Everlast and they were so darned cute!) that I know one of my Brazilian flatmates in Hong Kong made off with...sigh....I bet her ass looked better in it than mine anyways. =P
What I think I take for granted now is that I live in my own space..well, I share it with a husband and two kids, but you get what I mean. No one can just walk off with my stuff and by installing a home security anaconda that will virtually hunt down and swallow a burglar whole (ok, maybe not really, but that would be pretty funny) I feel extra comfortable with leaving my stuff out. It's hard to believe that there was a point in my life where it was normal to not unpack for months at a time because of all the stories you'd hear of other models stealing stuff. Like, I said, I was lucky, but I kept my stuff in my suitcase and clearly marked. Nice to not have to do that anymore...although maybe that was just a tiny little price to pay for a very wonderful time in my life. And maybe I wouldn't mind having to do that again....for a few days. =)
Showing posts with label fashion models. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fashion models. Show all posts
Friday, June 03, 2011
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
My Crazy Model TV Addiction
I just have to cut in here and talk a little about what it was like for me the first few hours I would move into any models' apartment in any part of the globe. For some reason, I would more often than not, move in and have the entire place be empty. Not empty as in I got the apartment to myself for the entire season...more like, empty because everyone was working or on castings. So, what does a girl do in a foreign country, in a new apartment, and all on her lonesome? TURN ON THE TV.
It didn't matter if I was in Italy, Japan or Taiwan...the first thing I would do upon entering a new home and setting my luggage down, was to turn on the television. It's not like I expected the experience to be anything like turning on my TV at home and having my shows pop up as if my cable services had magically followed me abroad.....but I did want to hear and see something.
That eerie quiet that comes from being alone in a strange new hovel was always disheartening to me. Despite my travel addiction, for those first few seconds in a new and empty place, I would have a flash of homesickness...I would want to grab the phone and pay unreal sums of money just to "connect" with someone. So, instead of a phone call, I would turn on the tube and watch really loud and bright Japanese game shows, or Italian music videos which were often (as in the case of Piero Pelu) too unbelievably bad to look away from....or the VTV music videos in Taipei that played anything from Brittney Spears terribleness to some really cool Korean hip hop. Once in a while, I scored and would find a show in English...some ancient Fresh Prince or Little House on the Prairie episode that was somehow bouncing through space off of a satellite....and that was good. Real good. And then there were the apartments were the TV's sat there covered in dust...like a relic from the Eastern Bloc...some random looking contraption that would not work no matter how much I cursed at it and tried every knob (mind you most never had a remote)...and those were always the creepiest nights. Sitting there in silence until a roomate would finally appear and save me from the quiet.....
This model TV addiction never lasted long. Once in and integrated into my new life and home I barely had time to sit and watch anything on TV. And when I did it was to watch DVD's with friends....When I would return home to the States though I would always make sure that my cable would always be set up and working.....and it always was to my great relief....because after being gone for 3-6 months at a time, coming home to the States and my apartments there was always strange and oddly disheartening as well. I would want to have the company of whatever news anchor or sitcom actor was on at the moment I would walk in the door....
And it's funny for me to even think about all of this now....since at this point in my life I crave nothing more than silence and solitude...and a large chunk of chocolate....but back then, the silence of an empty apartment after being on planes full of people, photoshoots surrounded by crew, and parties embraced by friends...was just not comfortable.....So, yes....I guess in that way I was a typical American, needing my TV and finding it a source of comfort. No wonder some of my Eastern Euro and Brazilian roomies would roll their eyes at me when they first met me...."aha! look at the American! always with the TV on even if she isn't watching it!".
It didn't matter if I was in Italy, Japan or Taiwan...the first thing I would do upon entering a new home and setting my luggage down, was to turn on the television. It's not like I expected the experience to be anything like turning on my TV at home and having my shows pop up as if my cable services had magically followed me abroad.....but I did want to hear and see something.
That eerie quiet that comes from being alone in a strange new hovel was always disheartening to me. Despite my travel addiction, for those first few seconds in a new and empty place, I would have a flash of homesickness...I would want to grab the phone and pay unreal sums of money just to "connect" with someone. So, instead of a phone call, I would turn on the tube and watch really loud and bright Japanese game shows, or Italian music videos which were often (as in the case of Piero Pelu) too unbelievably bad to look away from....or the VTV music videos in Taipei that played anything from Brittney Spears terribleness to some really cool Korean hip hop. Once in a while, I scored and would find a show in English...some ancient Fresh Prince or Little House on the Prairie episode that was somehow bouncing through space off of a satellite....and that was good. Real good. And then there were the apartments were the TV's sat there covered in dust...like a relic from the Eastern Bloc...some random looking contraption that would not work no matter how much I cursed at it and tried every knob (mind you most never had a remote)...and those were always the creepiest nights. Sitting there in silence until a roomate would finally appear and save me from the quiet.....
This model TV addiction never lasted long. Once in and integrated into my new life and home I barely had time to sit and watch anything on TV. And when I did it was to watch DVD's with friends....When I would return home to the States though I would always make sure that my cable would always be set up and working.....and it always was to my great relief....because after being gone for 3-6 months at a time, coming home to the States and my apartments there was always strange and oddly disheartening as well. I would want to have the company of whatever news anchor or sitcom actor was on at the moment I would walk in the door....
And it's funny for me to even think about all of this now....since at this point in my life I crave nothing more than silence and solitude...and a large chunk of chocolate....but back then, the silence of an empty apartment after being on planes full of people, photoshoots surrounded by crew, and parties embraced by friends...was just not comfortable.....So, yes....I guess in that way I was a typical American, needing my TV and finding it a source of comfort. No wonder some of my Eastern Euro and Brazilian roomies would roll their eyes at me when they first met me...."aha! look at the American! always with the TV on even if she isn't watching it!".
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Zit Explosions
I have to make a slight detour and talk a little about models and their complexions while traveling. There are a select few who suffer from nothing more than a slight case of chapped lips or an oily forehead...but the rest of us do go through some skin trauma every time we travel.
Due to pollution, water conditions, changes in diet, lack of sleep, dehydration from long plane trips, most models will end up with a random explosion of zits during the first few weeks in a new city with nary an English speaking Dermatologist to be found. This, of course, is horrible because you want to make a great first impression on your agents and the new clients and photographers you'll be meeting. Walking around with a few prime goiters on your face is not exactly worthy of great self-esteemage.
I was mostly lucky in that I would get some minor break-outs that I could cover with some concealer and that would clear up in a day or two, but once in a while I would develop a nice crop of cystic acne somewhere painfully obvious like my chin that would make me cringe at the thought of leaving my apartment to face the hypercritical world I worked in. Hell, I probably would've cringed to go work at a burger joint when my breakouts were that bad. Luckily, the more I traveled and worked, the more I found out that models having skin issues while traveling was as common as finding out that people get boob jobs and laser hair removal in Los Angeles. Also, the more I traveled, the less my skin would react....it was starting to get used to the "abuse". ;)
I had make-up artists sympathize and tell me that they are always working with girls who get bad skin...especially in the bigger, dirtier cities like Milan, Athens, Paris and Taipei. They would suggest washing my face with bottled water, but the cost and pain in the assness of doing that was always daunting and eventually my zits would leave of their own accord and not return so it was all good. I also finally discovered tea tree oil soaps and astringents and that, to this day, has kept my pores clear.
Having had a Smartphone or real internet access during those times of skin crisis would've been nice. When I was traveling for work we all still pretty much depended on obscure internet cafes that charged up the wazoo for an hour of slooooow internet connections. I know that being able to hit up a site like Celibre or even WebMd would have helped me figure out how to prevent skin scares in the first place.
I remember out of sheer desperation, I ended up burning a little patch on my left cheek. Not burning as in "with fire", but a week before I was to be in Asia for a contract, I developed a stress zit smack dab on the middle of my cheek that had its own heartbeat and looked like Vesuvius. Painful and I knew I couldn't hide that thing. So I kept dabbing it day and night with Benzoyl Peroxide and rubbing alchohol and lo and behold a few days later the bump was gone but my skin was black in that spot. BLACK AND CRISPY. The burnt skin finally peeled off the day I was supposed to fly out, thank God. But still...gross.
Due to pollution, water conditions, changes in diet, lack of sleep, dehydration from long plane trips, most models will end up with a random explosion of zits during the first few weeks in a new city with nary an English speaking Dermatologist to be found. This, of course, is horrible because you want to make a great first impression on your agents and the new clients and photographers you'll be meeting. Walking around with a few prime goiters on your face is not exactly worthy of great self-esteemage.
I was mostly lucky in that I would get some minor break-outs that I could cover with some concealer and that would clear up in a day or two, but once in a while I would develop a nice crop of cystic acne somewhere painfully obvious like my chin that would make me cringe at the thought of leaving my apartment to face the hypercritical world I worked in. Hell, I probably would've cringed to go work at a burger joint when my breakouts were that bad. Luckily, the more I traveled and worked, the more I found out that models having skin issues while traveling was as common as finding out that people get boob jobs and laser hair removal in Los Angeles. Also, the more I traveled, the less my skin would react....it was starting to get used to the "abuse". ;)
I had make-up artists sympathize and tell me that they are always working with girls who get bad skin...especially in the bigger, dirtier cities like Milan, Athens, Paris and Taipei. They would suggest washing my face with bottled water, but the cost and pain in the assness of doing that was always daunting and eventually my zits would leave of their own accord and not return so it was all good. I also finally discovered tea tree oil soaps and astringents and that, to this day, has kept my pores clear.
Having had a Smartphone or real internet access during those times of skin crisis would've been nice. When I was traveling for work we all still pretty much depended on obscure internet cafes that charged up the wazoo for an hour of slooooow internet connections. I know that being able to hit up a site like Celibre or even WebMd would have helped me figure out how to prevent skin scares in the first place.
I remember out of sheer desperation, I ended up burning a little patch on my left cheek. Not burning as in "with fire", but a week before I was to be in Asia for a contract, I developed a stress zit smack dab on the middle of my cheek that had its own heartbeat and looked like Vesuvius. Painful and I knew I couldn't hide that thing. So I kept dabbing it day and night with Benzoyl Peroxide and rubbing alchohol and lo and behold a few days later the bump was gone but my skin was black in that spot. BLACK AND CRISPY. The burnt skin finally peeled off the day I was supposed to fly out, thank God. But still...gross.
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