There are two sides to every story: CP’s or KAR’s. Here’s the story of how we settled on the wardbrobe for our debut as models (or, the story of the time CP took KAR to the mall when she had nothing to wear).
While our lives seem glamourous at times, being start-up business owners comes with its own set of complications and issues. Sometimes, as was this case last weekend, there are wardrobe malfunctions.
Truth be told, the task was hard. For last weekend’s photo shoot, we’d be instructed to look hip & cool, but like ourselves. KAR has a more bohemian chic look with a little rock and roll mixed in. I’ve been once described as bowties and loafers (which isn’t far from the truth).
My outfit was somehow easy and uncomplicated…a new pair of jeans and a few staples from my closet created the outfit I needed for the photos. KAR, however, struggled to find her inner…model. I kept saying she should use this opportunity to purchase the black leather jacket she’s been eyeing for the past couple of…ever since we’ve known each other. I’m not quite sure if it registered, or if she felt guilty, but she didnt take my advice.
Flash forward to our photo shoot weekend & KAR is toting 2 suitcases, a bag of miscellaneous items and a box of newly purchased tops on our way to NJ.
Nothing works except two givens: she’s definitely wearing the new jeans and she’s definitely wearing leopard heels. But the rest is unknown and so we head to the mall. And that’s when I realize: KAR hates shopping (!)…or she hates shopping for something particular…or she hates shopping with me (!?). Nothing new is catching our fancy…and KAR quickly goes from knowing exactly what she needs to having absolutely no vision at all…except she knows that whatever I put in front of her is exactly not what she wants.
And that’s exactly when I start feeling like this:
Finally I suggest we go somewhere expensive. If I know anything about KAR a little trip to Louis or Burberry or Chanel can brighten her day. But she resists, she swears she doesn’t need expensive things to be happy or to feel pretty Thats true, it’s while she may not need those things to feel pretty, those things do make her feel pretty and we needed pretty…fast.
The rest is a blur. We buy the leather jacket that I knew would be perfect from the get go and we visit Chanel. I mean I’m not saying I told you so, I’m just saying I know what I’m doing. I think you’ll see what I mean. Stay tuned for the final images. -CP
I’ve wanted to be many (specific) things in life: ballerina with the New York City Ballet, Academy Award Wining something, (a nicer) Anna Wintour with better hair, a super-genius Mark Zuckerburg type, and on and on to infinity. But never have I ever wanted model. I’m neither tall enough nor thin enough, and I can’t imagine a world in which I’m happy just standing around. After this past weekend, I’ve learned that modeling is more than standing around, but that’s not really important now. What is important is that model + me = high state of anxiety. And though I would love to be as cool and chic as this:
I feared this:
Not a good look unless you love layers, pillows & excess baggage. Also not a good look? CP when he takes me shopping. It’s true, CP tried, but all I could think about was him looking dapper and me becoming the old folk story of the woman who couldn’t find anything to wear and went naked to her own company’s photo shoot.
But then, miracle of miracles, a leather coat from new-to-me obsession The Kooples appeared and
Chuck Bass CP showed total indifference, even though finding this coat meant there was a fleeting chance I could look like the bohemian biker chick I’d always dreamed of AND we could go home.
Plus, how could you be indifferent to this?
(Oh, and in case you’re wondering, CP & I did not hold hands during the shoot, though we did pretend to be a happily engaged couple. Sounds about right.) -KAR & CP