Being the insistently loyal friend that she is, Lauren Mae took a lengthy study break this past Monday to trudge the 2 1/2 blocks from our apartment building to Starlet, a neigborhood boutique, to be my muse in a (intended to be)quick photoshoot. I have this gig where I shoot the newest arrivals about twice a month and then use them as I will in different arenas of marketing for the little shop. Major bonus: I get paid for throwing clothes all over Miss Mae and then click contentedly away on a borrowed camera.
She is such a muse, is she not?
Suddenly, somewhere in the middle of Lauren changing into the next suggested little frock and switching out one silk scarf for another, I'm 12 again. I'm upstairs with Sienna and Chalice and maybe a friend or two. We've switched out one mix cd for another and the volume is so loud that I can almost hear the soon-to-be footsteps of my mother approaching the bottom of the stairwell to yell up (so clear that it was as though she were standing atop my ear lope) "GIRLS! TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN!"
Picture discarded hangers spilling out of our open bedroom door and cascading down the wooden steps, two beds swelling with heaps of vintage dresses, curling irons left on and burning it's way through some unfortunate piece of nearby plastic. Cheap, throwaway dishes of makeup littering any exposed surface area with gobs taken out of the darkest purple. Our frightened dog, Jember, failing to thwart the attack of a 12 yards of yellow tulle that has wrapped itself around her unfortunately curly tail. Oh, the snacks. Buttery popcorn, chips laden with cheese dust and half-eaten, oozing sandwiches sitting dangerously close to the once-beloved belts and blouses of stylish young ladies from years long gone by.
Now there's less makeup, less people, less music.
More shots, more money (by being in a state of existence), more follow-through.
But all the same glory.
In every thread and well-cropped hem.
Do I feel silly snapping away in the back alley of a row of shops, having to pause each time a car rolls by for lack of space? Putting piles of hats nearby to switch out when needed? Piling scarves around my own neck as we move through the stack? Getting excited about lace, marrying solid to pattern and good necklines? Yes. Insanely so. Hoping-none-of-my-brother's-friends-see-me silly. But do I want to live my life this way? I hope I always do.
She is such a muse, is she not?
Suddenly, somewhere in the middle of Lauren changing into the next suggested little frock and switching out one silk scarf for another, I'm 12 again. I'm upstairs with Sienna and Chalice and maybe a friend or two. We've switched out one mix cd for another and the volume is so loud that I can almost hear the soon-to-be footsteps of my mother approaching the bottom of the stairwell to yell up (so clear that it was as though she were standing atop my ear lope) "GIRLS! TURN THAT MUSIC DOWN!"
Picture discarded hangers spilling out of our open bedroom door and cascading down the wooden steps, two beds swelling with heaps of vintage dresses, curling irons left on and burning it's way through some unfortunate piece of nearby plastic. Cheap, throwaway dishes of makeup littering any exposed surface area with gobs taken out of the darkest purple. Our frightened dog, Jember, failing to thwart the attack of a 12 yards of yellow tulle that has wrapped itself around her unfortunately curly tail. Oh, the snacks. Buttery popcorn, chips laden with cheese dust and half-eaten, oozing sandwiches sitting dangerously close to the once-beloved belts and blouses of stylish young ladies from years long gone by.
Now there's less makeup, less people, less music.
More shots, more money (by being in a state of existence), more follow-through.
But all the same glory.
In every thread and well-cropped hem.
Do I feel silly snapping away in the back alley of a row of shops, having to pause each time a car rolls by for lack of space? Putting piles of hats nearby to switch out when needed? Piling scarves around my own neck as we move through the stack? Getting excited about lace, marrying solid to pattern and good necklines? Yes. Insanely so. Hoping-none-of-my-brother's-friends-see-me silly. But do I want to live my life this way? I hope I always do.
7 comments:
ahhhh, i remember that so well.
"Hey Ya" or "Come What May"....lots of outfit changes.
we were so glam . xoxxo
:) thank you!
hahaha oh man I remember this, actually I was going through some stuff and I found a disc with pictures from one of our "photo shoots" good memories :)
-Hannah T.
my only regret-that i didn't let you play that music as long and as loud as you wanted to xxoo
Kate - you were and are perfect. no regrets ! xoxoxo
:-)
i second lin!!
I want to live my life this way too!
You're a wife-and-aesthete-and-lifestyle inspiration. and a very good writer!
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