first espresso of the day. Tel Aviv, Israel


I just got back from Israel, via a freakin' long ass flight time: 2 hours from Tel Aviv to Istanbul + 10 hours from Istanbul to New York + 7 hours from New York to San Francisco. I was lucky enough to jump onto a non stop from jfk to sfo, rather than my scheduled flight which stopped at lax for a three hour lay over. In New York, I hadn't slept for three days, so when I finally got to my cousins apartment (which was amazing btw, I had my own room) I passed out for 24 hours.
Thanks to a bit of a stomach sickness, I didn't eat anything during the flight period, but the constant altitude changes still caused some sexy nausea. I'm sure green looks good on me.
Israel was phenomenal, so much that I couldn't leave when my flight home came around. I ended up staying a month, and renting out an apartment in Tel Aviv, having a few men fall for my "personality", and working with a great agency, MC2 Tel Aviv. Here is a bit of documentation, if you can handle the excitement.

this camel did not want anything to do with us silly americans. Desert near the Dead Sea, Israel

it was very cold and windy, but we caught some awesome shots up on the roof. Downtown Tel Aviv, Israel

sex

I modeled for a shoot that required a ton of naughty, it was the morning routine of a powerful business woman, so there was a lot of tweed and lace, gabardine suiting, and satin panties, thigh high stockings, with white button down shirts. the director had set up an inspiration board, and this picture of Sasha P. was by far my favorite image. I kept this little image in my head while executing those sexy and powerful poses. I did some digging, and it is from the July 09 issue of Vogue Italia. Also modeling was Milla J! Here is the rest of the pictures.

Back as a newbie.

My momma says that I was modeling when I figured out what a camera was. I did do a bit in grade school, and again in high school, but my family raised me to believe that engineering was a career, not silly jobs like modeling or fashion design. But after everything else seemed to lose my interest, I got my head shots done, and headed off into the big world of modeling.







My ORIGINAL head shots. Taken in the huge garden behind my then managers backyard.

Shooter shooter

Today, we were on location at a flower gallery, which meant a TON of color. I don't do color very often, so this was quite a change. One photographer wanted a very commercial look, and, lucky me, the other photographer wanted drama and darkness, almost a sophisticated and modern femme fatal type. I was wearing black denim pencil leg jeans, by Habitual, as well as an un-tucked white button down men's style shirt with a SWORD leather jacket over, which was later switched into a plain cropped vest. The make up was clean, and classic, no not a ton of retouching from the hot hot heat we were working with. California sun gleams pretty damn hard in the summer.
These were all taken by one of the photographer's assistants, the actually photographs will be through editing shortly, and then into the books! In this business, it's all about waiting for the results. Patience, because photo editing takes freaking forever.

If I tell you, I'll have to kill you.

Once upon a time, there was girl who wanted to be a super hero. So, she went to as many super hero training classes as she possibly could, and began her super hero duties, with her new super hero friends and co workers.
The difficult part wasn't saving people from burning buildings, or keeping the bad guys away from the good guys, but, it was keeping her identity hidden from the people who wouldn't accept her for being a super hero. This made her life quite secretive, which she thought would be acceptable, until slowly lines started to blur.
See, this girl wanted so much to let everyone know what she had been doing for a living, but it is very easy for a super hero to 'fall from grace,' as it is said. One poorly executed save, and a super hero can be put out to pasture, not before everyone is told of their poor super skills.
For fear that she wouldn't be good enough, she decided to keep her mouth shut about her work, rather than lie about it or try to let people understand.


Modeling is made out to be a very glamorous job, which it is at certain times of course. But, like all jobs, there is work, and the reward that comes from all of the work. Now, I wish I didn't have to exercise as much as I do, or pay a trainer far too much to keep me accountable (and I have grown to despise the taste of ice cream, thank goodness), but it is a small price to pay for the fun times I have on set. And who knows, maybe I'll get to wear a cape in the near future.


oh, and this photograph was taken by Jerry Mok, a fantastic shoot in the back of a Japanese restaurant in San Mateo, California. Looks like I was channeling my evil villain side.

Little did I know

Julia Stegner is a very well known model, but I just came to realize that she joins the ranks along with the much publicized Angelina Jolie as a Goodwill Ambassador for the UNHCR. I suppose they scout beautiful women with great public speaking skills with a will to change for this role.

Day one.

At nearly 6 am, I still haven't gone to sleep. I would love to say that I have been working, jet setting around the globe, but the fact is, I had to clean my bedroom. From vacuuming the floors, to going through the closet and sorting items into 'throw away' and 'goodwill' boxes, I spent my night hours ridding my life of clutter. Hopefully, the physical clutter was some sort of cathartic gateway for the more, lets say, non physical tolls that have been impending.

Now, I will be honest, less than a year ago, there is no way I would have taken the idea of being a professional model seriously. In June of 2008, I was on my way to Isiolo, Kenya from spending my entire life in the US (I did go to Mexico and Canada though). Like most freshly 21 year olds, I had to get out of the box that I had made myself, and for me that was working for a health clinic. I wish I could say that it was the need to help other people, but the decision to go had a lot to do with wasting my physical body. I wasn't living a healthy life, or what I thought was healthy anyways. I ate what I wanted, smoked, drank a bit much, I wasted money that I spent a long time earning and saving. I started talking to people that I normally didn't talk to, and researching some organizations, watching documentaries, and writing people who were, and still are trying to help people who have no means of helping themselves. I have been spoiling myself, when there are people who don't have the chance to blow there money in Las Vegas, or smoke a pack of cigarettes in two days. Some people want to succeed, and I wanted to "give them a Steph" to help them do it. So, after contacting one of the women who ran Mamahope.org, I got a meeting.

Then comes early October 2008. The meeting. I was nervous, but just in the back of my mind was the thought of "if this doesn't fly, then do whatever makes you happy". I'm sitting at the restaurant, 15 minutes early, I figure she'll be at least 5 minutes late because of the traffic I just missed. 15 minutes into the supposed meeting time, still no show. 30 minutes, still sipping on my now room temperature Pepsi, and chatting up an older grampa looking type next to me. I finally get a call from the woman, she JUST left the office. A thought passed through my head that this meeting is already in the crapper. She gets there, strokes my ego of being young, innocent and full of naive life, then pulls out all the stops. I am too young, need to go out of the country more, and every one there hates white women. I put on a smiley face until she leaves, the I realize I had just gotten shot down while pleading for the thing I have had my heart set on.
Replaying the conversation in my mind, I realized that every time she said no, I had a valid and respectful rebuttal that should have made her say yes. I had backers, I know people in Kenya, I mean, no I won't get a body guard in case people really do hate white 21 year olds.

My friend, who was managing models at the time, finds me after that meeting of torture, and says, "Look, how about you try a few modeling gigs, and see how it goes. If its fun, keep going, if not, then you can move on to the next thing." So I did. And here I am. In January, I gave myself 6 months to get signed. In March, I got a call from City Model Management, by April the papers were signed.

Now, its the hard part. But we can pick up that story later on.