Porcelain Masks
For Rachel, you showed me what’s important in life
9:00
Started the day with an early shoot with Michel and Fate for the "Hippie Daze" section in next month's issue. Michel was absolutely abhorrent to work with. He kept stopping to ask how his hair looked. I told him it looked spectacular but he looked doubtful. Fate was the exact opposite. She had shown up for the shoot looking like she had simply rolled out of her own vomit that morning.
"Turn more to the left, Fate," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"I said turn a little more to the left."
She closed her eyes, "Okay."
I looked at the two of them through my camera again, whimpered, and stood up.
"Well, if you two are bound and determined to make me vomit, mission accomplished. Where is the passion? Where is it? Somebody find the passion, and then we shall finish the shoot. Until then, be gone!"
"Jean-Marlon?" asked Michel.
"Yes?" I said.
"Can you see my nipples through this shirt?"
I stared at him, astounded, "Can I see your nipples? Can I see your nipples? This is intolerable! I can't believe that I waste my time with such, ludicrously--aagh! My head! I am getting a migraine headache. I cannot go on with this stress any longer!"
The intern in my department, Chelsea, was instantly beside me, "Mr. Lamenchy, are you alright sir? Can I get you anything? Some café au lait, a smoothie, a scone perhaps?"
"Coffee, coffee, I need coffee. Coffee is my salvation."
Chelsea rushed off to locate me some coffee, and I sat down on the floor. Michel approached me.
"Jean-Marlon, about my nipples..."
"I don't give a damn about your nipples."
Deena, the makeup girl rescued me, "Michel, if you're that worried about your nipples showing, maybe we can put some blush on them, make them look really nice."
As she led him away from me, Fate approached me next.
"Jean-Marlon, may I have a serious discussion with you?"
"Fate, you and I both know that you are incapable of having a serious conversation because like most models, everything that is worth anything about you lies on the surface, and the vast majority of that is lighting and makeup, and post-production. In truth, your shallowness is so all- consuming; it may appear to someone as dense as you to be depth. But please, humor me, what is it you wish to dialogue with me about?"
"I read a book that really changed my life."
"That really, really surprises me, Fate. Continue."
"It was The Old Man and the Sea by some Heming guy."
I looked at her for a long time, "What did you think of this book?"
"Well at first, I thought it was really stupid. There's this old guy, and he wants to catch a fish, and he can't. He sits in a boat, and then he catches a fish, and then sharks eat it. I mean, literally, that's what the book's all about. But then I got to thinking."
"Really?" I asked, astounded.
"Yeah, I know," she said, "I thought, this is the first book I ever read cover to cover. The guy in the book sits around waiting to catch a fish for a long time, and I sat around and read this book for a long time, so the point is, if you do something for a long time, you'll do it."
I sighed, wondering why I am condemned to work with such stupidity, "That's really incredible insight you provided for that book, Fate. You truly are an amazing woman."
"Thank you, Jean-Marlon. I wish men would understand that, but it seems like they only go out with me for sex."
"Fate, you need to find yourself a wonderful man who enjoys and appreciates your company. A man who will sit around and talk to you about makeup, and good-looking men, and if those jeans make your butt look big."
"Do you think these jeans make my butt look big?" she asked.
"I say all that, and that's the only thing you pick up on you vain little brat?" I said, "Out of my sight, my headache throbs!" I shrieked, "Chelsea?!"
Chelsea wriggled her petite 5'2", black pinstriped pantsuit wrapped frame through the door.
"Here you are Mr. Lamenchy," she said, handing me the cup.
"Merci, Chelsea, you are a pumpkin."
"Thank you Mr. Lamenchy."
One sip of the coffee revived me, and after I sought out Michel, I was successfully able to complete the shoot.
9:30
I was waiting for my next appointment to arrive, Pri Ashmore for the “Purpleâ€
For Rachel, you showed me what’s important in life
9:00
Started the day with an early shoot with Michel and Fate for the "Hippie Daze" section in next month's issue. Michel was absolutely abhorrent to work with. He kept stopping to ask how his hair looked. I told him it looked spectacular but he looked doubtful. Fate was the exact opposite. She had shown up for the shoot looking like she had simply rolled out of her own vomit that morning.
"Turn more to the left, Fate," I said.
"What?" she asked.
"I said turn a little more to the left."
She closed her eyes, "Okay."
I looked at the two of them through my camera again, whimpered, and stood up.
"Well, if you two are bound and determined to make me vomit, mission accomplished. Where is the passion? Where is it? Somebody find the passion, and then we shall finish the shoot. Until then, be gone!"
"Jean-Marlon?" asked Michel.
"Yes?" I said.
"Can you see my nipples through this shirt?"
I stared at him, astounded, "Can I see your nipples? Can I see your nipples? This is intolerable! I can't believe that I waste my time with such, ludicrously--aagh! My head! I am getting a migraine headache. I cannot go on with this stress any longer!"
The intern in my department, Chelsea, was instantly beside me, "Mr. Lamenchy, are you alright sir? Can I get you anything? Some café au lait, a smoothie, a scone perhaps?"
"Coffee, coffee, I need coffee. Coffee is my salvation."
Chelsea rushed off to locate me some coffee, and I sat down on the floor. Michel approached me.
"Jean-Marlon, about my nipples..."
"I don't give a damn about your nipples."
Deena, the makeup girl rescued me, "Michel, if you're that worried about your nipples showing, maybe we can put some blush on them, make them look really nice."
As she led him away from me, Fate approached me next.
"Jean-Marlon, may I have a serious discussion with you?"
"Fate, you and I both know that you are incapable of having a serious conversation because like most models, everything that is worth anything about you lies on the surface, and the vast majority of that is lighting and makeup, and post-production. In truth, your shallowness is so all- consuming; it may appear to someone as dense as you to be depth. But please, humor me, what is it you wish to dialogue with me about?"
"I read a book that really changed my life."
"That really, really surprises me, Fate. Continue."
"It was The Old Man and the Sea by some Heming guy."
I looked at her for a long time, "What did you think of this book?"
"Well at first, I thought it was really stupid. There's this old guy, and he wants to catch a fish, and he can't. He sits in a boat, and then he catches a fish, and then sharks eat it. I mean, literally, that's what the book's all about. But then I got to thinking."
"Really?" I asked, astounded.
"Yeah, I know," she said, "I thought, this is the first book I ever read cover to cover. The guy in the book sits around waiting to catch a fish for a long time, and I sat around and read this book for a long time, so the point is, if you do something for a long time, you'll do it."
I sighed, wondering why I am condemned to work with such stupidity, "That's really incredible insight you provided for that book, Fate. You truly are an amazing woman."
"Thank you, Jean-Marlon. I wish men would understand that, but it seems like they only go out with me for sex."
"Fate, you need to find yourself a wonderful man who enjoys and appreciates your company. A man who will sit around and talk to you about makeup, and good-looking men, and if those jeans make your butt look big."
"Do you think these jeans make my butt look big?" she asked.
"I say all that, and that's the only thing you pick up on you vain little brat?" I said, "Out of my sight, my headache throbs!" I shrieked, "Chelsea?!"
Chelsea wriggled her petite 5'2", black pinstriped pantsuit wrapped frame through the door.
"Here you are Mr. Lamenchy," she said, handing me the cup.
"Merci, Chelsea, you are a pumpkin."
"Thank you Mr. Lamenchy."
One sip of the coffee revived me, and after I sought out Michel, I was successfully able to complete the shoot.
9:30
I was waiting for my next appointment to arrive, Pri Ashmore for the “Purpleâ€