Halloween Costume Fail

Halloween. The holiday where 90% of girls dress take advantage of the opportunity to dress like skanks, while the other 10% complain about girls dressing like skanks.  My absolute favorite part about Halloween when I was in college was to sit on my front porch on Sunday morning and watch everyone on their super awkward walks of shame. If you think someone couldn't look more ridiculous wearing a slutty nurse costume, you're wrong.  Wearing the top half of a slutty nurse costume and a pair of XL sweatpants, walking barefoot down the sidewalk, carrying a pair of platform heels and a crumpled up nurse hat is way more ridiculous. It's not just the girls though. Last year I witnessed a very hungover Santa doing a walk of shame. And I saw a guy attempt to convince the cashier at the mini mart by my house that he was a policeman, and not on his way home from a crazy night dressed up like one. (The plastic handcuffs in his pocket were a bit of a give-a-way)

Since I graduated this passed year and no longer get to enjoy this awesome ritual, I decided to post some other riciulousness in the true spirit of Halloween.

Shockingly bad

He'll be his own if he wears this.

Please, God, don't let anyone need to
speak to an operator.

I have no words for this. Other than I
wish Andy would have been hired to
model for this job. 

Hilarious.

"Ann Rexia" This is disgusting.

I'm not sure how I noticed this,
but this guy has the creepiest
look on his face. 

What a tool. 

Holy Shit this is bad. 

I hope he got paid well for this gig. 

For more, check out these sights: 

http://babyhatchetblog.wordpress.com/2006/09/26/inappropriate-halloween-costumes-3/

http://shine.yahoo.com/event/halloween/12-ridiculous-nsfw-halloween-costumes-for-guys-2404367#photoViewer=12

http://www.prankplace.com/subcategory.aspx?d=Obnoxious-Costumes&c=242

http://www.refinery29.com/the-most-ridiculous-sexy-halloween-costumes.php/slideshow/1/image/1/#image-15

The Only Thing Scarier than Joan Rivers as Herself....

...is Joan Rivers dressed up like Snookie from the Jersey Shore. Yikes. Out of everything wrong with this picture, I'm going to say it's the hair that needs a little work. Maybe one less shot of steroids to the Bump-It would do?

Backwards Love Games

Next time I meet a guy and he annoys the shit out of me and I know right away that I have no future with him and I want him to leave, I'm going to pretend like I'm in love with him. I'm going to throw myself at him and treat him wonderfully and be super nice. I'll cook him food and leave him cute little notes to find when I'm not around. I'll listen to him when he talks and I will try to open up to him. I'll tell him that he's the one man in the world for me. This, I have found through the research on relationships I have personally conducted, will make me invisible to him. He will not notice me and he will leave me alone.

In return, next time I really like a guy, I'm going to act like I don't. I'm going to do whatever the fuck I want and purposely NOT do nice things for him. I'm going to forget to call him back. Going to leave his text messages unanswered. Going to blow him off every once in a while. I'm going to tell him that I don't want a relationship. That I love being single and I want to remain single and that I'm not attracted to him and we have no future together. This, apparently, makes boys fall in love with me, write me email after desperate email confessing such love, and hold on for months on end just trying to make things work with me.

As satirical as this rant is meant to be, the amount of truth it holds in my life right now is sad. Funny, but sad. Why does love seem to work so backwards sometimes?

Brett Favre Wrangler Commercial SNL

Long, Fun, Tiring, Boring, Exciting Day

I started the day wearing a $5,000 designer dress in a studio set up in a photographer's living room. I ended it doing side volley's in the middle of a parking lot, wearing an all black Nike outfit while a different photographer's assistant tossed a soccer ball to me.

In between, I wore seven different outfits. I had my hair pin-straight and down in my face. Curled and teased into a fro. Pinned on the top of my head. Pulled back in a ponytail. I had bright red lips, nude lips, bleached out eyebrows, smokey eyes, no makeup, pale skin, tan skin. I shot in a boxing ring, an old abandoned gym, a conservatory, a park and a car. I was too big. I was too small.  I wondered why the hell I am a model. And I thought about how much I love my job. 

Sixteen hours on set. Home finally. Time to pass out. Work at the gym tomorrow. Oh life. <3

Two Hours of Sleep a Night Ain't Cuttin' It

This whole thinking I can do everything and be fine with no sleep is finally starting to catch up with me. I woke up this morning at 6am and I couldn't swallow. Found myself sitting on the floor of the gymnasium, trying to keep myself from blacking out, at quarter to 7, while trying to set up stations for a fitness boot camp I started today. 

The boot camp did not go quite as I had planned. I went into it thinking it would be super easy. I've run this kind of thing a hundred times before, so what the hell did I have to be nervous about? I started the class with 15 people and ended with only 12. Apparently, I can't make housewives between the ages of 45- 60 do the same workouts I did when I was a collegiate athlete. I'm not saying this to be a bitch, I was mortified. I could tell by people's reaction that it was not going well, and I kept trying to fix things and adjust but nothing was working. I honestly just wanted to walk out of the gym.

From the gym I had to go straight to a meeting. I got home around noon, crawled back into bed with a slight fever and a box of tissues, and didn't wake up until it was dark outside my window. I'm usually not a person who can nap longer than ten minutes so I was shocked when I woke up. 

The rest of my week is already getting crazy. Meetings tomorrow, then working 7 hours at the gym. (I'm starting to think the gym is not going to work out. The Agents are going to send me to another market soon, most likely, so I'll be gone again for a few weeks and I'm not sure how the gym will take it.) I'm double booked with shoots on Wednesday, castings Thursday and then work at the gym, and possibly another shoot on Friday. Saturday I have work all day and three places I have to be on Saturday night, which means that I'm going to have another week of letting people down. 

Andy sent me an email today asking if my phone is broken because I haven't answered him in a few days. Matthew sent me a text asking if I would mail back the CD he gave me because he's tired of me blowing him off. I have three unheard voicemails from Jeffrey. Two from my most regular photographer.    An unpaid credit card bill. Bags under my eyes. A scale that seems to get meaner each time I step on it lately. And a mother who keeps nagging at me to go to sleep and stop trying to do everything all the time. 

Right now, all I can think about is how badly I want to drop everything and go to Florida. Maybe I could buckle down for two weeks, get myself in to shape, clear my head, study for my personal training certificate, and come back energized and confident and then my career will take off. Oh how I love magical thinking. 

Tonight, I guess I have to be ok with not being able to do everything or please everyone. I can't figure it all out right now, so it's time to go to sleep and try again tomorrow. 

Four Crazy Moments of my Friday

The photographer of my photo shoot was the official photographer of Manchester United.  Woke up at 5am Friday morning to shower and get downtown by 7am for my photoshoot. We met at the photographers studio to get ready before heading out to our location, and while I was getting my face painted (aka my makeup done) I listened to the stylist talk to the photographer about all of the crazy things he has done, including shooting for major magazines and winning an Emmy. The makeup artist kept repeating everything the photographer said to me in a low whisper, just to make sure I heard, but I guess my lack of sleep effected my excitement. Then, as I was looking at the titles of the books on his book shelves I noticed a book about Alex Ferguson. I asked the photog if he was a Man U fan, and he told me that he was their official photographer for three seasons. Whattttttt??? I might not give a shit about a lot of things I'm supposed to give a shit about in the modeling world, but I was instantly impressed. I talked to him about Rooney (his decision to stay at Man U and his trouble with prostitutes mostly) and the guy was shocked that I actually knew something about soccer other than the fact that David Beckham is married to a Spice Girl. 

I had to run half a mile in platform boots to buy a pair of silver strappy shoes before my runway show.  Went straight from photo shoot to runway show on Friday. Showed up (barely) on time for rehearsal only to learn that they had switched the four looks that I was going to be wearing and now needed me to wear silver shoes instead of black. Searched in my bag to find only one silver strappy show. Fuck. Not having the right shoes is a great way to not get booked again. Told them it must be in my car. Ran back to my car. No second silver shoe. Looked up on my iphone and found a Payless about a half mile away. Started running. Weaved in and out of people on the street, but made pretty good time. Found a pair of silver strappys for less than 20 bucks. Bought them, put the box under my arm like it as a football and started running back. Made it back just in time for rehearsal to start. Sweating like a pig. (Not very attractive) Changed into my first look. Walked down the runway one time in my new shoes. Came back to change. Was told that they were going to switch my outfit again. Didn't need the silver shoes anymore. Black shoes would work fine. 

My dad got a little tipsy and almost dropped my brother's birthday cake on someone's head.  From the runway show, I raced back home from the city and went straight to Everett and Tula's show. It was Everett's birthday on Friday. My parents got him a cake so that we could have everyone sing to him after they finished playing. My dad took advantage of the $25 all-you-can-drink deal and got a little tipsy. During their last song, he went running back to the bar to get the cake ready, then proceeded to carry the cake, lit with 27 candles, through the tables full of people. For some crazy reason, he hoisted the cake over his head and held it up as he walked. I guess he was worried people wouldn't see the flaming sheet moving through the dark bar? Whatever the reason, it was funny enough just to see him perform this stunt, but then, things got even better when he walked through the final two tables. The cake suddenly slide off the cardboard cutout plate he was carrying and for a moment appeared as it would would certainly fall directly on the head of the woman sitting innocently at the front table. Somehow, he managed to get a shoulder beneath the cake, bracing its fall and then recovering the cake, miraculously keeping all but two candles lit while he finished the walk to the stage as if nothing had happened. I almost peed myself laughing, especially because his black shirt was decorated with frosting and candle wax stains for the rest of the evening. I see where I get my gracefulness from. 

Had a crazy dream during the middle of a late night conversation with Brad while we were laying in his bed cuddling. I was exhausted. I warned him that I was not going to be able to stay awake. Brad started reading me a letter he had written to his Uncle about me. It was incredibly nice, but it led to a conversation about us and where we were headed. I could feel myself struggling to stay awake. All of a sudden Brad asked me what I was talking about. What do you mean we should invite Obama and Trader Joe? It took me a minute to figure out that I was dreaming and that what I had just said made absolutely no sense what so ever. I spent a few seconds trying desperately to think of some way that I could convince him that I was not crazy, but I finally gave up and just started laughing and admitted that I must have been dreaming. Whoops. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to hear the end of that one for a while. 

Rock On Ms. Swift

So, the rumor mill is buzzing right now about Taylor Swift's new song, Dear John, and the connection to John Mayer. I am resisting the urge to delve into any type of speculation (at least, I'm trying.) The lyrics seem to speak for themselves. 

I am trying not to let that voice inside of me escape right now and ask Taylor (like the rest of the world, as if we somehow know her, or are entitled to have an opinion about her life, just because she is famous) What the fuck were you thinking? John Mayer. Really?

No sooner do I think this, than I want to smack myself for falling into the victim blaming mentality of our society. How many of us would like to think we would be able to avoid a situation like this, or that we are somehow above it? I am one of them. And how many of us have been there, wondering what the fuck happened? Yes, I have been there too. 

I really don't want to know whether or not she had sex with the creep. Whatever happened, I applaud Taylor for writing this song and (most importantly) for putting it out there. Knowing full well what the media was going to do, she still released it. Brave girl. And as for the John in the song, whoever he may be, I'd just like to say that I'm on Taylor's side. You're a schmuck. Fuck you from all of us. 

What I love is the way she is able to create something out of  real experiences, good or bad. The fact that she is now a huge celebrity and that this song is probably about another huge celebrity, and yet I read it (not a huge celebrity) and could relate to it immediately, shows her talent as a writer and as an artist. Rock on Ms. Swift. 

Days Like This Are What Keep Me Sane

Me: Where are we going?
Brad: Somewhere far away.
Me: Nice. I just have to be back for my shoot tomorrow.
Brad: I'll try.

Me: I hate feeling guilty every time I eat.
Brad: Fuck The Agents. You're fucking gorgeous.
Me: I wasn't fishing for a compliment. I was just saying.
Brad: I wasn't giving you one. I was just saying. 

 

Me: Let's steal this boat and go sailing.
Brad: The water is freezing, are you going to
swim out there to get it?
Me: Sure! It would be worth it.
Brad: You do realize there's no wind.
We'd just sit there in the boat.
Me: Let's do it.

Me: Can we stay here forever?
Brad: Sure.
Me: Seriously. I don't want to leave.
Brad: Ok. We'll stay forever. But then,
I have to take you home.
You have a shoot tomorrow morning.

Brad: Beautiful perm on that dog.
Me: You're such a dork.
Brad: Then why are you laughing?
Me: Because you're funny.

Brad: Why are you taking a picture of that?
Me: I donno. I feel like it
Brad: Does it make sense?
Me: Kinda, until you think about it.
Brad: I like you.

Prior to our swinging contest. Which I won. 

Me: "No Can't's Allowed."
Brad: Or "Never Say Can't."
Me: I like my version better.

Me: Let's steal this one and go out on the lake!
Brad: I think it has a hole in it.
Me: You're such a wuss.
You just don't want to get wet.
Brad: Yep.

Beaver did some damage.

Me: Why does this sign make me sad?
Brad: Because the sun is setting and we
have to leave soon?
Me: Why can't this just last forever?
Brad: Because then it wouldn't be special.

Me: How bout this boat? It's our last chance!
Brad: There's no oars.
Me: We could use our hands.
Brad: I like you.

Me: This is seriously gorgeous.
Brad: I agree.
Me: Look at the lake. Not at me.
Brad: I can't.

Me: You look cute when you cook me dinner.
Brad: When don't I look cute?
Me: Good point.

Me: We fogged up the windows! I've never done that.
Brad: Me either. I'll never look at Target the same.
Me: We're in a Walmart parking lot silly.
Brad: Oh. Same thing.
Me: I like you.

Me: This was seriously the best day.

Brad: Yeah, it's one of those days that you save and then bring it out later when you have a bad day. 

Me: Yeah, you're giving me a lot of those lately. 

Twenty Ways The Agents Avoid Saying the F-Word

Image by daniellehelm via Flickr

The Agents never call anyone fat. At least, not in those words and not to their face. They have learned clever, more effective ways of getting their point across.

1. They make you walk between the desks of The Agency in a bikini. Each person you pass will stare at every part of your body except for your face. They will scrunch up their nose and forehead, as if pondering, what is missing here? hmmmm... This will inspire them to dig out their measuring tape. (which sometimes is hanging around their neck. A convenient fashion statement) and then, ah-hah! you really gotta work on these hips of yours. 
2. Another tape measure trick. After measuring you, they will leave their thumb on your number and show you. Then, they move their thumb down two inches and show you again saying, try to stay right around here from now on.
3. You're looking a little too commercial lately. We'd like you to look more high fashion.
4. Have you tried a detox? Detox is code for not eating. Of course, they can't say not to eat anything, but they can say to go on a two-week cleanse.
5. Email: We noticed you were drinking a martini at last night's party. We weren't sure if you knew, because drinks can be misleading, how many calories are in one martini. A good drink to try is a vodka and soda. 
6. We don't want you to lose weight. We just want you to lose about 3 inches off your waist. Don't even step on a scale, just focus on those inches. 
7. If someone skinnier than you is around, they will rave about her. Look how she has that separation between her legs! Look at those arms. Oh my god your stomach seems to go inward. 
   Then, they will look at you and ask, How is your body doing lately?
8. Email: The holidays are coming! We wanted to wish you all a happy and healthy season. And remember, these times are especially important to eat healthy and get extra workouts in because Spring Runway season is right around that corner. 
9. Your body looks ok, but no desserts for a few months. 
10. Have you tried lifting lighter weights for more reps? Or walking instead of running? You need to tone your muscle, not build it.
11. We can't send you on any castings until you get your hips down another two inches. We really want to promote you, but you need to do your part here. 
12. During an instructional class: A funny thing happens after a girl signs a contract, she goes back to eating like she did before she signed. We see her after a few weeks and she looks bloated and we can't send her out for any jobs. We call this, Lazy Model Syndrome. 
13. The anorexic look is in. We don't want you to be anorexic. We just want you to look that way. 
14. You lost ten pounds! You look great! Oh my God, can you imagine how great you would look if you lost another 5?!?
15. Overheard after girl leaves: Did you see the size of that ass?? Girl wants to be a model with an ass like that?
16. Email: A Major Client is coming to town for a casting in two weeks. If you are getting this email it's because we really want you to look your best for them and want to give you enough time to make sure you can do this. 
17. After printing you 100 comp cards: we listed your hips as a 34.5 and your waist as a 24.5 because it looks so much better. If you get booked, you have to be at these measurements, so the faster you can do this, the better. 
18. We don't need you to lose weight, we just need you to tighten. Tighten. Tighten. Your stomach especially, just needs to be much tighter. (While speaking, The Agent will hold up their hands in front of them, like 2' apart from each other, and as they saw tighten, they will bring their hands slowly together, until they make a small circle with their fingers.)
19. On location of a shoot: You're going to have to stand to the side. Suck your stomach in. Your butt is hanging way out. You're looking a little too butch right now and we need you a little more soft and feminine. 
20. You have two weeks to lose two inches or we are going to have to re-evaluate your future here and re-think your contract with us. 

Backwards Account of My Friday

Let's start from this morning and work backwards, shall we?

Just barely made it to work on time. Brad dropped me off at 8:00am exactly after stopping at my house so that I could change my clothes. Drove the hour from his house to mine. Woke up at Joey and Val's house. Brad set an alarm and got us up and ready and had water and food in the car for me because he knew I had to be at work at 8. Not sure what time we actually went to sleep, but I am getting hot just thinking about the couple of hours between us falling asleep and us going downstairs to the guest room. We still haven't had sex, which makes things even better right now. I don't want the complicatedness of post-sex hanging out. The boy knows what he's doing though, I'll tell you that much. And for the life of me I cannot keep my hands off of him. I love the way he kisses me. With a passion that contains just a touch of frantic helplessness. 

Before bed I cuddled on the couch with Brad and Val. Val and Joey just got back from their honeymoon. They showed us their slideshow of pictures and I tried not to fall asleep. Val and I might have taken shots in the kitchen. We drove to their house from a bar that I have no idea the name of. We were all still in our sweats. Danced after we sang karaoke. Ate food that was set up for some party and acted like it was there for us. Did cartwheels in the middle of the road on the way from the previous bar. Took shots of Patron. Burned the roof of my mouth on cheese pizza (serves me right for eating so late) Drank whiskey and coke with all of Brad's friends while they teased us for showing up late. I swore we stopped for gas but I couldn't stop smiling. Almost kissed one of Brad's friends because he came up behind me and I thought it was Brad. Looked at pictures from the wedding I went to a while ago. Talked about how glad I was to have met everyone. Got to the bar late. April called to see where we were after we didn't follow people out of the parking lot. Couldn't even put our seat belts on in Brad's truck because we couldn't stop making out. Knew we shouldn't start making out because we wouldn't be able to stop, but Brad opened the passenger door for me as he said that I never stop amazing him. He looked so cute in his sweatpants all I want to do is rip them off him. Talked to Danielle's parents. Said good game to the other team after beating them in softball. Slide into second base. Hit the game winning run. Drank beers with Brad's friends in the parking lot before the game. Ate dinner at Brad's house. He cooked me whole wheat pasta with fresh mozzarella cheese and cherry tomatoes. Met his brother. Watched The Office with his mom and dad. Brad picked me up after his audition. While we were standing on rocks by the lack before he left he said that there needs to be a new word. Something that describes the feeling that is way stronger than like, without having to use the l word too soon. He closed his eyes. Told me he lllllllllikes me. Brad took me to breakfast. Woke up Friday morning thinking about him. 

It's Not Cute Anymore. It's Fucking Annoying.

Image via Wikipedia

It's funny how when you like someone, everything they do seems cute. But when you cross over into the not liking zone, they could do the exact same thing and it can seem like the most annoying thing anyone could possibly do. The exact same thing.

Case in point: Andy always eats only a half a piece of gum. I used to think this was cool. He'd tear the piece in half and save it for later and then a pack of gum lasted twice as long. Today, I offered him a piece of gum and he took it and ripped it in half, just like he always does, and I wanted to shove the rest of the piece in his fucking mouth. Eat the whole goddamn piece. It's a single piece of gum. It will fit in your mouth. It's not cute at all. It's fucking annoying. I find half pieces of gum in my car all the time and it's a fucking waste because they are dirty and old and no one wants to eat them. So just eat the whole effing piece. 

It wasn't funny at all, it annoyed the shit out of me. And then, I sat down and started writing this post and I thought back to the fantasies I had while driving home about climbing across the car and prying his mouth open dramatically and shoving the rest of the gum in his mouth. And now I'm laughing. 

"When People Show You Who They Are, Believe Them The First Time" -M.Angelo

It's taken me five years and three months to realize that I don't really know you after all. And more importantly, you have no idea who I am. Not in the slightest bit. I find myself fighting the urge to tell you all the things that other guys tell me. Brad thinks I'm beautiful and funny, and Matthew says he's never met someone like me, and Andy says I'm the kind of girl that changes people's lives. But all I really want, is to hear it from you. It's like I still don't believe a word of it. Not until it comes from your lips. Not until you believe it. I need you to tell me. I need your approval still. It's all I've ever really wanted I guess. I just didn't realize it, until tonight. 

And now that I'm laying here, in the dark, listening to the silence of you breathing on the other end of the line, I know. I don't want to be this girl. I don't want to be this girl that's just waiting for you, sad and silent. I want to be the girl that's laughing in the passenger seat of Brad's pickup truck singing country songs at the top of my lungs. I want to be the girl that holds hands with James at a bar because we just need to touch somehow. I want to be the girl at the table, smiling and speaking out loud and not afraid of her voice. The girl that picks what she wants to eat and what she wants to do and doesn't wait for anyone. I don't owe you anything. Turns out, it's me that I owe something to. I'm tired of trying to be what you want. I'm tired of waiting for you to see how fucking awesome I can be. I'm tired of believing you instead of everyone else in my life, and most importantly, instead of me. 

Random iPhone Pictures

The lake yesterday. Absolutely gorgeous. 

My future house...

Had this gorgeous fence all around it, full of quotes.
I took pictures of some of my favorites:

Success always looks easy- and even undeserved to those
who were not around when it was being earned.

Average is your enemy.

"Why not" is a slogan for an interesting life. 

My new boots from Target.
Couple sizes too big but still badass.

I went to Target for mascara.
I left with three pairs of boots,
four t-shirts, two mascaras, hand lotion
and Muscle Milk protein powder.
Target gets me every time. 

My New Perspective on Dessert

I was thinking today, as I was running, about my resistance to lose weight. I don't want to give in to industry standards. I know that I am not overweight. I know that I am thin. But, I realized that I have voluntarily chosen a career where the size of my hips and waist matters more than the size of my brain; and I spend the majority of my time either feeling like I should lose weight and being depressed about my size, or rebelling against the system and stuffing my face with junk food just because I want to not give a shit. Neither one is beneficial for me and I remain in the same place, complaining and wallowing in self-hatred. 

Today, I thought about why I can't just stop myself from eating when I begin my borderline bingeing behavior. I've tried a hundred different ways. I've tried hating myself and telling myself that I don't deserve to eat chocolate or ice cream. I end up eating more. I've tried being compassionate with myself and allowing myself to just do what I want because I deserve it. I end up eating more. I've started over so many times that the thought of starting over again, only to fall back into the same place again as I inevitably seem to do is depressing enough to send me back to the freezer right now so that I can save the trouble of the impending damage. 

For some reason, as I was running, I pictured myself giving an interview. (Yeah, I think about this shit.) I thought of someone asking me so, why did you never make it anywhere as a model? And my answer was because I went to an amazing candy store with a boy and he bought me sugary treats. And my mom ordered guacamole at dinner and it was just sitting there at the table, waiting for me. And my brother made blueberry muffins from scratch. I never wanted to be rude, so I just ate everything. 

It seems like such an unbalanced practice I follow. I give up traveling around the world. I give up money. I give up something I love to do. All for something that tastes good for a few minutes and then makes me feel sick the rest of the day??? What the fuck am I doing??

So, from now on, I'm going to try to think of this before falling into my old eating habits. I'm not going to stop eating. I have to eat to live and I do not want to go down the dangerous road of an eating disorder. I'm not giving up food. But, before I eat that dessert, or stuff my face again, I'm going to ask myself if it is more important than making it to London. If it is, then by all means, I'm going to eat it. But if it's not, then I'm going to start choosing what I want in the long run over what I want in the moment. 

Ralph Lauren Ready-to-Wear SP11 Collection

I am not someone that likes things (clothes, jewelry, books, etc.) just because they are a certain brand or are made by a certain company, without formulating my own opinion about them. In other words, I am not a blind follower. 

That being said, I love pretty much every Ralph Lauren collection. The Spring 2011 Ready-to-Wear collection is loaded with things I would go out and buy tomorrow if I could. (The fact that I can't afford a fake leather jacket from Target right now might clue you in to the biggest reason why this is not possible.) He's done the western theme before, but somehow still comes up with something fresh and new after over 40 years in the business. Sticking with a mostly white pallet, he accents his pieces with brown, pale blue, and silver, as well as intricate lacing and fringe, fringe, fringe. These are some of my favorites in the cowboy couture collection.