New Year, New City

Perhaps the most exciting place in the world, to me at least, is an airport. It's where I partake in the only physical activity I really do (running around like a total mess and people watching) and it's usually a landmark of home or of the unknown. Either way you'll need a map to get out because even the most familiar places serve to surprise you, which is why staying in the US will be just as adventurous as living abroad.

Madeleine in Milan has grown up and finished high school early, meaning that I'm now ready to commit to becoming a New Yorker just in time for New York Fashion Week. I can only hope my life will be exciting enough to be the third season of The City that was never filmed because let's face it, Olivia Palermo's inability to do her jaw dropping simple job got very boring very fast.

I'm living in an apartment in Lower East Harlem, which is as close as my bank account will allow me to get to the Upper East Side. Sadly, most agencies opt out of maintaining a NYC model apartment so I'll be living with a partner in crime artist that is probably using me for my plus one capabilities but we'll be living #thestruggle together so stay tuned for live tweets.

Ultimately, I've decided to pack up and move to a city that I've never really been to before because I'll never have this opportunity again in my life. It sounds extreme and very #yolo, but it's the strange reality. I've decided that this is more important than my second semester of senior year because modeling gives me the education that high school and college are unable to provide. Models are global travelers and even though I'm not traveling outside my own country, I'm trusting myself and my instincts to find my own way from point A to point B lugging around two small (ish) suitcases in the frigid cold. Also I'll be able to linger Lana Del Rey more efficiently.

I'm going to try to be better about posting but since it's now going to be done via iPad, I can't make any promises. I've started a tumblr specifically for travel/backstage photos and they will be posted at model-tour-guide.tumblr.com. Three days till Manhattan. 

Casa, Dolce Casa

In case you haven't heard... I'm home, and happily so. Being in Milan was possibly the greatest real world experience anyone could have given me at this point in my life, but it was necessary to come home and remind myself that I do, in fact, have parents and that I am, in fact, still in high school.

Modeling teaches you to get along with people: the high strung neurotic ones, the whiny ones, etc. I've met a lot of interesting people and a lot of shitty ones too. The first person I met was my elderly driver, Franco, who picked me up from the airport and proceeded not to speak one word to me the whole drive into the city. I would see him later in the agency and he'd stride over with a silly grin and pat me on the head. I asked him why he never spoke to when we had first met. He said, "Sometimes it is best to watch the other person, and to then decide if you want to talk to them at all." I still consider his answer to be on of the best I've ever heard.

To conclude this post, modeling has invited me to see the world, and I'm definitely not stopping now.

TO BE CONTINUED... (very soon)

Becoming European

I already know what you are thinking. I'm a shit blogger and I'm sorry about it. I could never ever in my life be an internet personality. I can't even believe people have daily outfit or whatever blogs...

Today marks my one month anniversary of living here. I've been through four roommates already, so that means I've stuck it out here longer than four other girls. It's tough fending for yourself at only 17. My newest addition to my Model Roommate Collection is a girl who doesn't know how to lock doors. Which would be okay if, maybe, if we lived in a hotel. But we freakin' do not. It's squished here (because it's Europe, duh)and we four girls share one bathroom and kitchen. Also, she moved my wet clothes from the drying rack so she could put her wet clothes up to dry: offense number 2. Seriously girl? Have you never lived with other people? 

(Probably an accurate depiction of a Tokyo model apartment. I've been counting my blessings here in Milan, trust me.)

Finally the city-wide depression from losing the Eurocup to Spain has worn off. And I have a whole new vocabulary of the absolute worst Italian curse words thanks to my friend's screaming at the TV whilst watching the match. He was a good sport though to not break the TV itself. Italians actually don't hate anyone more than the Spanish. 

It's around this time that everyone in Europe comes to Milan for the freakin' huge end of season designer sales. And I must say they are worth the plane ticket. Also American Zara is a complete (ooooh, bold!) joke compared to the original Italian one. It's literally 4 floors of heaven for l'donna and only one floor for l'uomo. Sucks to be a man [in this situation].

My return home is still tentative. I might go to Poland at the end of July to visit two of my Polish friends from Milan. Even though I want to be in Europe forever, I miss everyone. Including you. I will always be known as the Texas girl who *probably* rides horses a lot (I don't) and wears those "weird boots with small high heels" (aka cowboy boots, and I don't own a pair). 

(Going out. Peace. )

Invasion of Male Models, Among Other Things

I've realized that there are extreme misconceptions about the weather in Milan. Let me just put it this way: coming from Houston, I can deal with sweltering heat... But there is no AC in my apartment or any of the public places I've been (except for the buses), so here it's been a bit of a struggle fighting with the consequences of leaving my window open at night in hopes of a breeze. Thank you mosquitos. I've been debating as to whether or not I should buy a fan so I can freeze myself to death at night and possibly get pneumonia, but then I realized the sad, unfortunate reality: I would have to carry said fan two blocks (it looks heavy from what I've judged) and because I lack extreme athletic ability, I would probably collapse from exhaustion. Can you say waif world problems?


Aside from the heat invasion, there has been another, and this time it's possibly hotter. Men's Fashion Week in Milan starts on the 23rd but they've already gathered to the city to go to castings for the shows in a ritual-like fashion. Yesterday, when most of them arrived, they could be seen everywhere: the underground metro, the buses, the streets, and outside castings smoking dramatically. 


How to Spot A Model in Milano in 6 Steps:

1. We all carry the same maps. I think it's an agency conspiracy thing. And we use them so often that they're in our hands at all times. The maps themselves are so frackin' huge that I could easily wear mine as a burka if needed.
2. We also carry our portfolio books with us everywhere. This is probably the most easy identification of a model because on the outside the portfolios generally say I'M A MODEL or something like that.
3. [Male] models cannot transition from runway walk to normal walk - the whole via/plaza is their runway and you better move. Seriously their roll does not slow down. 
4. [Male] models love their Beats by Dre. and jam out like nobody's watching. 
5. [Male] models have jaw bones and cheek bones that are sharp enough to slice open your heart, until you talk to them for about five minutes and already want them to shut up. Some of them are actually funny though, but still.
6. [Male] models prefer the use of a longboard when not walking. Several times they longboard inside the supermarkets through the aisles and other times they just like to stylishly pose around with their board whilst waiting.

(River Viiperi wants to be your boyfriend; Male models in real life)

(Fellow Houstonian, Cole Mohr, addresses the hardships of modeling)

(Mark Cox shows you how models really live)

The Vultures and The Models

Even though it's considered to be a huge business center of Italy, Milan does not show much enthusiasm for the English language nor anything else of foreign concern. I have not met a soul from the States and I've come to realize I am so lucky to have a Canadian roommate (the girl from Germany left - more on that later) that speaks English; regardless, I am getting by with a combination of Italian and Spanish. 

I actually lied earlier, Italian men are all over foreign American girls and they're definitely concerned about getting them to the bars. The worst kind of places to be cornered by men are in the supermarkets and on buses because it gives them the opportunity to flat out stare (I've stared straight at one guy for at least three minutes before he looked away) and leer at you while you're attempting to read Italian food labels and get off at the right bus stops. Fortunately, there are ways out of this; for example, in the candy isle today, I screamed "SONO GAY!" (it means exactly what you think it does) at one man that resembled Chewbacca who was calling to me like a dog. Seriously? 

I only arrived in Milan three days ago yet it seems so much longer. One of my roommates, the German girl, left yesterday to go back home because she couldn't take this lifestyle anymore. And that is only one example of the challenges of having model friends. 

Loneliness aside, my daily routine is somewhat monotonous. I leave my flat before castings with enough time to get lost and have ten minute long conversations asking for directions with Italians that don't speak English, for fun of course. The castings are the interesting part. They are either closed or open, meaning the booker specifically sends 1-2 girls from the agency or sends a handful. At the castings themselves, there might be 10 girls or there might be 25, all with razor sharp cheekbones and skyscraper legs, speaking all languages and from all over the world, but the funny thing is, most are too timid to talk or prefer glaring over speaking. To each their own.

Also- America, you are so blessed. I can't get access to Hulu, Netflix, or even illegal streaming. Except for last night, I found a link for the Hannah Montana Last Song movie, and I actually watched it. 

(obligatory moody model/blogger photo; pictured on my wall: Luna the cat from Sailor Moon because I love that show, Gemma Ward, a sign that quotes "Not all those who wander are lost")