I finally got my modeling shots sorted, sub-sorted, and uploaded to Facebook for my IRL friends to ooh and ahh over. Out of ~400 photos, ~100 were good enough for Facebook, and only a fraction of those made it here. The best of the best.

I am not wearing makeup other than lipstick in any of these.

This is now my Facebook profile picture. I look like both my grandmothers in it.

THIS BLOUSE. I bought it on impulse (anything red and shiny will do that to me) five minutes before the shoot. I’m in love with the way it catches the light. This will be in heavy rotation come fall.

My hair totally changes color based on the light.

Half cowgirl, half wailing widow.

Seducing the camera. What I do best. In nine months I’ll give birth to a roll of film.

My favorite thing about my body is how soft it sometimes looks.

Welcome to leafy Burlington.

Beaver-toothed and proud of it. You know what? So was Hermione Fucking Granger.

“Why hello – omg a skull”

Facebook comment: “old maidpunk”


I loved doing this. It felt really right. I am meant to be a muse, I think. For Latin, for poetry, for clothes. (But Latin and poetry don’t make me feel like a bombshell.)

So now I need opinions. Is this something I should pursue? Is there a market for my kind of work? Anything I should change? My biggest dilemma right now is straight-size vs. plus-size modeling. I’m not exactly either, and I’d prefer not to gain or lose weight. Is that realistic? Can I fit in somewhere?

I’ve applied for a WickedTalent account, and tomorrow I have an interview with a photographer. We’ll see where things go.


Here’s your song. As you may have gleaned from the last few posts, I really, really like choral/orchestral/theatrical music.


Burgundy is proving a lovely color for me. I feel more “classic bohemian” and less “strung-out hippie.” Today I felt like I belonged in a folk ensemble.

Lately my bras have been sagging and stretching, to the point of mammary discomfort, so I trekked to Victoria’s Secret and got myself refitted. Turns out I am in fact a 34D, not a 34B-C as I have been wearing since puberty. I invested in two new bras that fit, and I can’t believe how much more comfortable I am. And now I have the nice little ego boost of getting to call myself a D-cup.

Lately I’ve been avoiding high-waisted skirts due to trouble finding any that didn’t ride up, bisect my stomach, or cling to my hips. I’ve finally found one that doesn’t. I bought it yesterday at Dirt Chic. The waist is loose enough for comfort but fitted enough not to add bulk. The pleats manage to be swingy rather than heavy. One problem I run into with longer skirts is the tendency for too-long A-lines to sag into a tulip shape, which makes my short legs look even shorter. I don’t see that happening with this one, which is great. It’s also short enough to show the meaty part of my calves. When only my ankles are visible, my legs look downright disproportionate.

Purple! I love it.

Oh hello, 34D.

I have so much skull swag at this point in my life. I ought to do a compilation post featuring nothing but.


Update! I’m actually serious about the modeling thing. I’ve decided to look beyond just goth stuff and investigate all kinds of alternative modeling. Yesterday my awesome friend Anna and I did a photo shoot in City Hall Park, with an actual camera, actual scenery, and actual costume changes. I’ll upload the photos as soon as I’ve sorted them (we got about 600). I’m officially building a portfolio, and I’d like to start freelancing soon.

I’m fully aware that modeling has the trashiest reputation of all the visual arts (“all you do is stand around and look pretty!”), and I’m steeling myself for the onslaught of stupefaction that a former Latin major now aspires to make a living off her appearance. I can say with confidence that it’s a hell of a lot more than looking pretty. There’s real synergy in a successful photo shoot, a kind of collusion with the camera and instinct for how best to convey your mood and your creative vision. It’s stationary acting: you’re telling a whole story using nothing but the structure of your body and what’s on it. Still refuse to call it an art? Attend one of my shoots sometime.

I almost forgot your song!


I didn’t do a proper photo shoot today. I was wearing a repeat outfit, and I have a policy against redundant posts. I was also feeling sick and not quite up to mugging for the camera. But y’all should know my hair is now purple.

It’s the end of an era. I did love the pink. But, as I’m no longer a university student, I decided I needed a more subdued color for a real job. This shade of purple is the best of both the kooky and the conservative. (Also, the roots won’t show quite as much. That’s certainly a plus.)

THIS SCARF. I bought it on Monday at Old Gold. It features skulls on a background of spiderwebs. I couldn’t have designed it better myself.

I like the idea of linking a song with each post. To kickstart this trend, I’ll do two.

paying homage

In the name of shamelessly whoring for traffic, I thought I’d do a linkdump. My style and I don’t exist in a vacuum, so I’m giving a nod to some of my inspirations.

Hairdos like this make me miss my natural color. (source)

This girl and I have very similar body types, so she’s a great guinea pig for styles I think I might want to try.

I don’t particularly like monochrome. I would wear the fuck out of this, though, with some red or purple accents. (source)

One of my favorite trends is formal wear repurposed for more casual ends. The hat! My gods, the hat. (source)

I don’t really care for long-sleeved dresses, but I’d love this with cap or puffed sleeves and a more dramatic neckline. (source)

I rescind what I said about long-sleeved dresses. I adore the shape of this. Structured, swingy dresses are my bread and butter. (source)

I need to find a really good pencil skirt this fall. One that promotes my ass while not making my legs look any shorter than they actually are. (28″ inseam. Holla.) (source)

Images like this make me want to model. (source)

I sorely wish I could wear heels. I have a bone disorder that more or less prohibits cute shoes. Sometimes I suffer through for the sake of awesome, but it’s hard even finding a pair to fit my misshapen feet. (source)

I couldn’t pull off all this drapery without looking shapeless and probably pregnant, but I’d gladly wear these pieces individually. LOVE the t-shirt. (source)

I already have most of these components. Time to workshop this. (source)

As much as I love ogling pinup pieces in the catalogs, it’s great to see actual customers rocking them. And Stiletto is probably my favorite fashion blogger of them all. (source)

let me read your palm

My budget for this outfit was, oh, $2. I got the shirt on my first visit to Salem, when I was 12. (That weekend was the very beginning of my craft: upon returning home, I declared myself a Wiccan, and I have never looked back.) When it ceased to properly corral my post-pubescent bosom, I cut it into a more flattering shape. The head scarf and the dress (yep, that’s a dress) were both mined from my mother’s closet sometime in high school. The only thing I purchased, I believe, I was the belt. I feel my vintage cred soaring.

I realized that my webcam takes much better shots than my flip phone. Here I am in my parents’ house. (I am currently between apartments, but I hope to move out in a month at the very latest.)

My shoulders, collarbone, and upper chest are my favorite parts of my body. I ought to wear more boatnecks. I felt sexy in this one.

Esmeralda always was my favorite Disney heroine. (One of my best friends actually is a Gypsy. Liam, am I doing it right?)

The skirt is heavy, and kind of shapeless. I ought to modify it one of these days. I experimented with a couple different shapes. I like the idea of ruching the stripes into contrasting angles. Like a Shiz University uniform. Susan Hilferty won a Tony, after all.

I ought to take more pictures outside. I grew up in these woods.

(Now I’ve gotten myself listening to Wicked. It was the first musical I ever memorized.)

surfboard dysphoria

Had I grown up by the ocean, I might be an entirely different person. Less high strung, for one, and probably not petty, obsessive, or narcissistic enough to document my outfits on the internet. Sometimes I attempt to channel a certain simplicity you don’t see anywhere but the Atlantic coast. Today was one of those times.

Yeah, my hair is pretty damn short now. Was sort of an accident, but I like it. It barely hits my jaw. I look even more like a lesbian* than usual.

*I’m not a lesbian. I’m just often told I look like one. Apparently I set off a lot of people’s gaydars.

ALSO! I got an awesome, awesome plug from Kate at Eat the Damn Cake, one of my favorite blogs. Only fair that I return the favor.