Sunday, February 2, 2014

PHILLing in the Gaps

Today Phillip Seymour Hoffman died.


From what is potentially a case of heroin overdose.


If only he and his perceived world were good enough unaltered.

Over the past week, I have found myself going through alterations... And swimming through seas of individuals who feel that they would not be as beautiful or talented without them.

Alterations in diet, clothing, physical cosmetics, perception, etc.

People are constantly doing things to themselves negatively in order to make the world around them  see them more positively... Or in order to SEE the world more positively.

On a stairwell a week ago, when I attended my first few women's castings- there were female models who were talking about how they could only consume baby food.... In order to keep themselves thin. They discussed different brands, flavors, benefits. Their emmaciated bodies reflect a story of hunger and diarrhea.... But their minds are convinced that a single solid food may ruin the worlds view on their beauty.

In a similar casting, a model showed up hammered... Barely able to walk. While he managed to make it through the audition, he confessed to me that he can barely wake up in the morning without a shot of tequila. He feels looser, less judged, and more capable with a constant buzz. While his slightly hollowed but well-makeup concealed eyes convey a tale of blood and body poisoning.... His mind tells him that with a little intoxication, e world would be miserable and see him as such.

Even in petty environments, as in a few nights ago when I was crammed in a room with tons of femme models.... The alterations could be seen. People wore tights and miniskirts despite the subzero temperatures. They walked in ankle breaking heels, despite the ice and discomfort. They had body modifications such as plastic surgery for their faces  and breasts. They pretended to be ignorant despite their higher intelligence because they felt the world would find them more attractive if they were perceived as a little niiave.

People are living their lives in an altereds Tate constantly because they feel they aren't good enough for the world.... Or the world is not good enough for them.

This level of insatiability is destructive.

Things like drugs, alcohol, and extreme forms if self modification are not necessarily unhealthy in moderation. Many of the worlds greatest minds have smoked, drank, par taken in substances and social trends. But it's when people start doing these things to a point that they are codependent on the results in order to create an apparently more tolerable perception of the world or themselves to said world.

It's when we forget who we are. We forget our limits. We forget we are enough.

These models surviving off from baby food isn't exactly Philip Seymour's heroine addiction, but it might as well be. It's the same mentality that despite harming oneself in the long run, they world would not bea ble to handle you.... Nor you it any other way. It's the feeling of inadequacy and depression.

I find myself on a road in which I am modifying myself somewhat to fit this industry. I'm learning to walk in heels, changing to a size four, and using skin care products constantly to avoid breakouts.

And I can feel the effects.

Because suddenly I feel less acceptable as a woman if I can walk in heels.... As if the world of fashion will cast me aside. When, just a month ago, I felt just fine without this capability. So now I practice obsessively to nail the skillset down. Despite blisters, back pains, ankle pains, and the constant falling. Even if I learned to walk perfectly.... Heels wouldn't be good for me- or anyone. Ever.

I find myself also being more conscientious of nothing's like having abs, slightly smaller thighs, and being a size four... If not a size two. Because apparently, designers won't make clothing in my size, and if I walk next to one of these toothpicks... And we are both in bathing suits.... I will look MUCH largess. Every muscle line is seen on a toothpick, the natural fat in her thighs does not ripple when she glides, and her stomachs is not only flat but defined. Mine is just flat. Recently, I started seeing a line appear, and I got really excited that progress was being made. I even worked out harder than before to expedite the results.

Ugh but what progress? More like the digression of how I was into who this industry needs me to be. Why was I not good enough as I was previously?

All of these emotions about my inadequacies have already I been digested. I have come to terms that I am NOT like the other women. I am NOT like the men either.

I am me.

ME is comfortably a size 6. She likes eating solid food with salt. She enjoys chocolate. She prefers waking in military boots.

Right now, I am playing THE GAME.

I am working my body to be industry standard. I am learning to harness heels. I am practicing popular feminine mannerisms. I am balancing what I eat (with   pizza here and there). I am telling myself that this is just like spy training. Just like military boot amp. Just like the SEALS.

I am going to walk this line, and become industry standard FLEXIBLE. But once the industry has adopted me as a professional, I'm going to introduce myself to them. I'm going to fight for more size appropriate models, healthier promotions of balanced diets, the acceptance of facial blemishes should they occur, and the realization that heels shouldn't be required in order to rock a dress.

I know I can do this, because I know my limits. I have accepted the world as it is whether it is positive in reciprocation or not. I can handle the negative feedback, because I get it all the time. And if this training to become industry standard becomes too dangerous, then I will pull out. No looking back.

But YOU. The others who feel you must alter your physical or mental states in order to be more accepted or accept the world more.... I'm not going too say stop. I'm going to say...

The world may never be enough for you. You may never be enough for it. But fuck it. You don't have change yourself or the world. You just have to change your attitude about it.

It's a fucking miracle you are even alive right now. Do you know how many little particles are vibrating in perfect form for you to exist right now? How insane it is that when you consume something it turns into the blood that pumps into the very brain you are using to read this shit I'm writing? How ridiculous it is that out of 5 million little sperms that just happened to shoot out of your paternal figure's urethra... YOU are the one that reached the egg first.?

I mean there is a lot of crazy, beautiful, impossible, powerful things making you aware enough to scan the blog right now.

So don't fuck up a good thing okay?




I can't wait to bring these words to every platform around the world I can for others to here.

But for now while breaking in.... Here's a video of a RUNWAY WALKING CLASS in heels with famous instructor Coco.


1 comment:

  1. Loved the post, you made me your fan as your article have really good point of view. Thank you for sharing it with us and keep posting more such posts