Why I Won't Be a Model Anytime Soon

I have a friend. (Actually, I have more than one friend, to clarify. However, in this post, I will be talking about one in particular.)

This friend...
1. ... has a daily fashion blog.
2. ... is awesome.
3. ... makes me feel bad about myself.
4. ... is a ninja with a camera.
5. ... is an awesome pop-culture fanatic/fashion queen whose ninja skills make me feel bad about myself.

I've taken a few photos with her that she later used on her blog. The first time, she snapped photos of me as well. She told me that this photo was a "detail shot," though I still believe she only wanted a picture of my chest.

And, since I wasn't good at the "stare meaningfully off into the distance without losing the aura of nonchalance essential to a fashion photo where you look like you are staring at something really important but really you're just focusing on how uncomfortable you are" thing, I grabbed an umbrella. And played in the fountain.

For my birthday, there was a group of five of us who met in Indianapolis for the day. We ate, shopped, thrifted, photographed and ate again. My friend, once again, tried to take pictures of me. I am an awful subject, let's face it.

First we tried walking down this set of stairs, but the perspective was "off."

Back at the top of the stairs, the lighting was wrong.

Thank goodness we were able to get a semi-okay picture of me in this amazing blue doorway ... of a bar. "Hurry up and take the picture!" I said through gritted teeth. "People with beer want to leave. Or get in. Something. Let the drunkards out!"

On the way back to the car, my friend suggested that I sit on this hideously dusty ledge. Awkward? Definitely. I sat on my leg to avoid the dust.

This was my reaction to "Damn it, Dawn! Take off your sunglasses!"

"Noooo ... briiiiiiiight..."

Round Three of Indianapolis Shoot: Dawn sits at table, doesn't look at camera, plays with salt shaker to avoid paparazzi-like friend.

"Okay, fine. I'll
try to look at you."

"This isn't working. I'm just laughing. I just want to play with my salt!"

"Okay, okay. I'm sobering up now. I'm staring off into the distance. I'm practice my soulful look that says, 'You know, I'm really thinking about having pancakes soon.'"

My friend says, "Your arm does NOT look natural!" She picks it up, shakes it vigorously, lets it fall to the marble table. "There! NOW STAY!"

What an awkward disaster I am. I really don't mind having my photo taken, I just need someone to tell me what to do. I also need to learn to stare off into the distance like this person. Or this person. Even this couple and this small child out-do me.

I also need to stop running into walls, chairs, desks, lamps, tables, kitchen drawers, TV cabinets and doorways. Perhaps my improved gracefulness will carry into the photos. If not, well, I'll always have material for making fun of myself.

The good part is that I do have one good "fashion photo" of myself.
One. Thank you, dear friend. I don't even mind that you slightly chopped off my forehead because, for once, I don't have Chronic Bitchface.

Of course, that moment didn't last long. Let's face it, I'm an a clumsy soul with orangutan arms and grasshopper legs. And, let's face it, orangutans and grasshoppers are not photogenic.

More photos here.


  1. Your blog was listed with orangutan pics in Google Images while I was searching for pics for a screensaver.Your the prettiest orangutan I've seen in a long time.


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