Fun & Famous
Why our editor kiki will never be a model
Last week, all of the editors for Amayzine had to put their best foot forward and get suited up in their best outfits to make an appearance in front of our in-house photographers lens. All for the sake of one thing: new profile photos.
But being the newbie that I still sort of am, I figured I’d start off by stating the obvious: I will never make it as a model.
And no, it’s not because of my extremely Dutch calves and uh, everything but Doutzen Kroes physique – which I happen to be very proud of by the way (you know on which team I am in the Fit-girls vs. Fat-girls battle, give me that cheesecake man, I have a life too). It’s also not because of my 1 meter 62 height either cause all I have to do is add my 12 cm Acne pumps and I will have solved my vertically challenged disadvantage. So what’s the problem you ask? My posing skills. My god, are there courses I can take for this?
“And no, it’s not because of my extremely Dutch calves and uh, everything but Doutzen Kroes physique”
So last week I met up with Vivian, the prettiest and most talented photographer you’ll ever meet. The location? One of the coolest suites in a hotel in Amsterdam. The night before I made sure to pack up everything I needed for the photos. Somehow I figured 12 pairs of shoes seemed logical but luckily I realized how inconvenient and well, unnecessary, all those shoes would be. I also figured I’d try to head to bed earlier, but then I spotted the large hand of the clock hitting the one, and the small one hitting the thirty. Crap.
The following morning I woke up with a GI-GAN-TIC pimple on my face. I swear to god, Enrique Iglesias’ former birthmark was mild compared to this. Usually I’m #blessed with smooth Indo-skin, but when I woke up and checked myself in the mirror, this big fat crater was staring back at me. On days like these I wish I wore burka’s. Vivian assured me that it wasn’t all that bad and besides, there’s always Photoshop.
Anyways, crater or not, I had to set foot in front of her lens. I gave her my best modelesque face, pranced around in my skirts, attempted some fierce poses (which failed drastically), then I start hysterically laughing about four times, then there’s my upper arm which looks even more awful on the photos than my pimple does, then cars pass us by, then my bangs are all over the place because of the wind, then I feel awkward in the hotel lobby surrounded by people, then I change outfits for the millionth time, then I get hungry and I want a cigarette. And then this little riddle repeats itself about six more times.
PEOPLE, never again will you hear me underestimate the life of a model. Long story short, you’ll be seeing new photos pop up on the site from now on. Without the crater, obviously. Thank god for Photoshop.
