I just finished filming a cool action flic. (More on that soon. It's still in the "secret" stage.)
Tonight, I am "Malenafying" my daughter's friends pants. They started with a humble beginning, living at the $5 store in the fashion district, but were quickly rescued by my junior Diva. I assured her I could vogue them out in 30 minutes or less. So, with the help of a soldering gun, metal studs, safety pins, and a crystal skull, her pants went from bargain to bombshell.
We goth chics know how to work it. I didn't grow up with money, so whatever I wore, I either made or embellished to the hilt. This skill has served me well thoughout my life. Like when I was invited to a big party in Atlanta, and the %^&*% airlines LOST my luggage. The only place that was open was K-Mart. So, I bought a tricot black slip and some cheap pumps and pretended no one would notice. Ahh, the memories. Another time, when I lived in New York, a fellow model ripped a hole in her Fogal micro-fishnet stockings. She couldn't replace them and she had to be onstage in 2 minutes. So, we used a strand of my hair to weave the hole back together.
Why am I telling you all this? Probably because I am too pooped from running around LaLa land to write anything of substance. So, I am alive and well and thinking of you.
I will leave you with a photo of me at age 14 playing the violin, and my first modeling photo from 9th grade.
Ok, due to popular demand, here's a pic of my little model in her jeans. They look way more flamen in real life, trust me. My daughter is selling the headbands and girly accessories for $5 on her little netstore:
She and her little friends are learning about wholesale/retail from the Goth Kool-Aid Mom on the corner. We're having fun.
The cell phone charms flash when the phone rings. I don't expect them to make any real cash, but it teaches them how business works.