 |
|
|
||||
Late night coffee at Florent with Tsubasa and my roommate, Erhan. Shady signs on our street back in Brooklyn.
The best model blog or “mlog” (I like coining new terms) on the Internet, Elyse Sewell’s Journal, closed its doors a week ago. Elyse, you will be missed.
Well, I thought I was living in the hard core Bedford-Stuyvesant or “Bed-Stuy” neighbourhood of Brooklyn. I thought that was cool. Apparently, however, I am just across the border in Clinton Hill, an historically yuppie, gentrified enclave of Brooklyn. Still, I am close enough to the border that I get to walk past some chain link fences with razor wire, some dodgy vehicles, graffiti, and broken pay phones.
Whilst the realtors try to pawn off Bed-Stuy houses as Clinton Hill by shifting the conventional border from Classon to Bedford and further, I would like to take it back a notch to Grand. Or, better yet, amalgamate the areas into Clinton-Stuyvesant or “Clin-Stuy” (Bedford Hill sounds too respectable). Represent.
Anyway you cut it, the area is pretty cool and rather attractive with the many rows of brownstone houses. Another quirk of the area, by no means exclusive to Clin-Stuy, is the plethora of corner stores. All over New York little deli-grocer-cigarette-magazine stores dominate the pedestrian landscape. Some right next to each other. Same with friendly, chatty people. One thing, perhaps, that Clin-Stuy has more of than other places are greasy Chinese food takeaways.
For all you furniture nerds, the Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) store on Spring Street has an Eames Lounge and Ottoman sitting there right by the entrance!
When I drew attention from the guard, I feigned hearing loss until I got the shot.
I took this photo of an Ugly Betty advertisement above the subway entrance. As I took the snap, one fellow made the passing comment to his friend “Ugly Betty’s not ugly” which I found charming.
Much of the advertising here is in Spanish. Spanish is becoming more of a second language to the United Statesians than French is to Canadians!
This second photo is for Jeni who I missed in the going away party collage. An act of insensitive negligence for which I am eternally penitent. My extended apologies to the other fabulous guests who departed before I remembered to draw my camera.
Sorry Jeni! :)
Fusion is NOT on Little West 12th St. Their address is:
Fusion Model Management
601 West 26th Street
New York, NY 10001
United States
(In case you want to send me cookies or something.)
I did find this cafe “Your Taste” just at the end of the street. It's on the Southwest corner of 6th Ave and West 23rd St. I think the espresso cost $2.11 and there was a strong wireless signal so I could sit and do work sans urine smell. Of course, while sitting there, I discovered this article on the dangers of surfing in public.
By the way, here is the abandoned warehouse I live in. Me and roommate are actually on the 3rd floor. Pigeons on the 5th.
So I am sitting right now in the Muhlenberg Branch of the New York Public Library. I went to the wrong one as this branch offers no wireless. No surprise, however, that I can still pick up a stray signal from some generous or misguided setup.
You get, however, what you pay for. Besides the pungent smell of urine emanating hopefully, yet probably not exclusively, from the toilets, there is a mix of other bodily odours drifting from the motley clientele. This branch seems to attract, besides myself, a significant proportion of seemingly vagrant types.
The two gentlemen at my sides and another one a short distance away are all sleeping. The student girl also just fell asleep. Maybe it’s time for a nap. Or better yet, a trip to the café.
I was just sent a photo from the Brief Encounters show a couple of weeks ago. I don’t know the original source.
Me and all my adonic glory. Would you like an apple?
[Update: Source is Calgary’s “The Core” website.]
Yesterday I had two jobs. I was excited for the past few days at the prospect of making money so early in NY until I read the call sheet where they were euphemistically described as “Non Billable”. I think you can figure out what that means.
So it’s a good thing I got that job at frederick's Downtown! How I am going to juggle everything remains to be seen. I start as a bus boy on Monday.
Though “Non Billable” I was still really stoked to be working on Saturday. The first shoot was a spec shoot with Reed and Rader. Their studio is actually really close to me in Brooklyn. Finished in less than two hours it was the quickest and most efficient I have ever done. I am looking forward to the photos.
The second shoot was for Swindle Magazine shot by John Mark Sorum. A bunch of models, mostly from Fusion and Major with at least one from Boss played the fans and groupies of A Place to Bury Strangers and Bing Ji Ling. A cool job and good chance to meet some fellow models.
Here is one blurry snap from relaxing between shoots on the second job. The girls promised to hunt me down if I posted the other more provocative pictures ;)
You may have noticed my updates are coming midday and a little more frequently than before. I have been lugging around my laptop and almost anywhere I sit down — park, cafe, office, apartment — there are many wireless access points in range and plenty of them are unsecured.
If it is raining, and when it gets colder, I will have to find indoor places where I can swim the electromagnetic soup in comfort. I know a couple places where I can pop in, buy and esspresso, and type away in peace. But the whole point of mooching Net access is that it’s free.
Ooh... look what I just found: NYPL ... La la la!
Numerous are the privileges of living in a big dynamic city. Yesterday I took in a dance performance by Cedar Lake. Not only the execution, but the choreography, the music, and the costume design were all spectacular. The creativity was almost overwhelming. I am not sure how to describe the genre, but modern ballet might be accurate.
The music was industrial-classical and the show explored themes of darkness, religion, control, love and, of course, the human body. You are reminded humanity is meant for more than sitting on couches.
The most gratifying part of the performance was the price. It was free! I have lived in cities where you could not pay to see that kind of work.
If you are in town, definitely check out Cedar Lake.
Image from Cedar Lake Dance website
Nobody comes to New York to screw around. Most people have come here chasing big dreams and the energy is palpable. New York is an expensive place to live and the competition is high. People here want to make it big and that drives up the level of quality and commitment in nearly everything. That being said, it is one of the most friendly, rational, and talkative cities I have ever sampled. I am definitely enjoying it.
Well, I did not get the Time Out job. New York has, however, named a street after me which more than makes up for it.
So that expensive hair cut looked a lot better the next day after a wash and style (with Bumble and Bumble blends of course). I received numerous compliments and a few solicitations to feel the hair. Money can’t buy you happiness, but it sure can buy you love.
It looks like I already have a job on Saturday! Of course I don’t count my chickens until they're in front of a camera... if you know what I mean.
I also have an “option” for Time Out Magazine this afternoon, but modelling options, much like stock options, are typically worth the paper on which they are written. If that.
I am also applying for a job waiting tables at new restaurant, Frederick's Downtown. It's featured in the current Time Out. Should I become famous by next week, I may not need it, but you can wish me luck anyway. You can’t be a struggling actor/model/singer in NY without being a waiter too.
New York is a crazy place. There is so much energy here that it just escapes out of people in words and song. Every day I walk past people talking to themselves or singing the ends of sentences in repeat.
I am staying in an abandoned building in Brooklyn. The bottom four floors look like the lair of a supervillian or the would be laboratory of a mad scientist. The apartment upstairs where I am living is actually quite civilized. I am rooming with an artist on the same track to fame and fortune and he has carved out quite a space in the rear quarter of the top floor.
I bumped into my friend Hung on the flight to New York and the journey went smoothly.
Things have not been quite so smooth since. My agency, Fusion, is no longer located at the address prominently displayed on their web site. Fortunately, I went into town on my first day with my roommate Erhan who was able to redirect me to the real address. Unfortunately, UPS never spoke to Erhan when they delivered my book (or “portfolio” in layman’s terms) to Fusion’s old address.
UPS will refuse to speak with you unless you have a valid tracking number. I suppose there would otherwise be way too many Williams from Calgary sending packages to Fusions in New York for the operator to handle.
I paid about $60 on my first day to get a phone card and phone number with Cingular and it still does not work.
Today I had my hair cut. The agency set up an appointment after confirming that “It will be about $30, is that OK?”. I was pleasantly relieved to hear a reasonable sounding price and excited to be getting a hair cut in New York.
The exceptional building has numerous floors and includes a cafe, a school, a studio, and a breathtaking view of the city. The portraits of supermodels with their Bumble and Bumble cuts reassured me I was in good hands. The haircutting big leagues.
I was offered a seat and a complimentary drink at the bar. I asked for sparkling water and got a San Pellegrino with a slice of lemon in a glass.
The stylist’s assistant fetched me and brought me upstairs to speak with the stylist who I put in touch with the agency so they could discuss the intricate details of my impending coiffe before proceeding. I also had a ‘reference photo’ — an earlier Polaroid of myself — for the stylist to consider.
The assistant took me to the manned coat check where I exchanged my outerwear for a black smock. There was a tip tray stuffed with ones.
So I had my hair sliced and diced, poked and teased, cut and caressed to the backdrop of the New York skyline. I got a little list of recommended ‘product’ to investigate on my way out.
I tentatively approach the till to wait for my $30 bill and consider a reasonable tip for a $30 cut.
William:I just had my hair cut by Dante.
Clerk:You have three products included, complimentary.
W:Great!
C:OK, you're William? What agency are you with?
W:Fusion.
C:We have an arrangement with the agency so there's no charge...
W:[Trying to suppress amazement] Cool.
C:We just ask that you leave a $50 tip for your stylist and a $15 tip for any assistants that worked with you.
W:[Trying to suppress amazement in a different way] Sorry?
After about four confirmations I was satisfied there was no mistake in communication. I felt rather shocked at the jump in price, then felt much better when I considered I had hundreds of dollars worth of service and bottled liquids for only $64. (I only had 4 one dollar bills after the coat check man instead of 5 so I cheated the assistant out of a dollar). Then I felt a little worse thinking of how much food I could have bought for $34. Now I’m rather ambivalent about the whole situation.
So what does a $205 dollar hair cut look like?
Uh... yeah.... well, it was raining cats and dogs out there.
So besides the above nonsense, in the past three days I have:
Farewell fun friends. It's been a blast hanging out with you guys over the summer. Hope to see you again soon. By that, I mean come join me in New York!
I was introduced to a fascinating beverage following (Canadian) Thanksgiving dinner hosted by our family friends. After the exquisite meal I had the opportunity to try “Yerba Mate”, a South American drink known for its stimulant properties. It has a unique flavour reminiscent of strong green tea with an anise after-taste.
Not only does it require specialized equipment to drink, but there is a relatively complicated procedure involved in its preparation along with a cultural protocol for its consumption.
It turns out my mum has the necessary apparatus and ingredients.
With even greater potential North American snob appeal than Maccha (due to obscurity and availability of equipment), I predict it will be the next trend in hot caffeinated liquids. I, for one, am hooked.
You can surely find all the physical entities you need online, along with some Yerba Mate instructions. Enjoy.
Scrum, Agile, Waterfall, Extreme, Feature Driven, Crystal Clear; while these programming methodologies, old and new, have their own advocates and detractors, benefits and drawbacks, evangelists and trolls, they all leave something to be desired, something intangible. A feeling of incompleteness. I am sure you have felt the same nagging uneasiness while writing your own software. I invite you to fill that void with Faith Based Programming. Embrace a Higher Purpose in your work.
Despite colourful diction and stylish description, nothing compares with a picture, except perhaps a motion picture, unfortunately, neither of which I have. Therefore, permit me to bore you with a thousand words; tales of strange costumes and lascivious nights.
Crows
Two weeks ago I had a job at Calgary's Holt Renfrew for a Modern Amusement party. The Modern Amusement team was in attendance as well as the guys from Strut Magazine. Being the emblem of the Modern Amusement label, the crow was the main theme for the night. Crow silhouettes adorned the entrance way, a sculpture of spiralling crows gripping twisted shiny metallic tubing hung artistically above the DJ, and Modern Amusement crow tee shirts passed to and fro on the backs of Holt's staff.
Delicious hors d'oeuvres walked past and bars serving up a bottomless well of lemon and cranberry “martinis”, martinis, and French beer ensured freedom of speech and freedom from hunger. And lest you think that live crows were missing, fret not. Perched on feathered stools or confined in a wire cage were three humanoid “crows” With masquerade black feathered crow masks, the individuals styled head to toe in Modern Amusement gear, watched with bird like intensity, crowed at, and conversed with the crowd. Who were those creepy guys anyway? Well, I was one of them along with two other model friends.
Bizarre jobs like that as described above are categorized as “informal modelling”. Though not as glamorous as a runway show or fashion spread, who can refuse the opportunity to attend a fun party. Certainly not I.
After the very introspective shift — would you speak to someone wearing a crow mask? — we were able to partake in the festivities. To avoid becoming dehydrated at the after-party, I consumed a few quick beverages from the bar. My fears were entirely misplaced. Not only did the after party have more of the drinks featured earlier, but red and white wine were added to the menu. The hors d'oeuvres followed us too. Then, unlike most after parties where the guests trickle in, realize no one is there, and trickle out, even more people arrived!
Kudos to the organizers. If you need any further avian characterizations, please be in touch with my agent.
Fishnets
You would be very much mistaken to expect any less of the following week. Last Saturday marked the eclectic, ostentatious, and very theatrical fund raiser party held by Theatre Junction at a beautifully revived historic venue, The Grand. The 1930's Berlin inspired “Die Wilde Nacht” event drew the eccentric side of Calgary's population for one crazy night of revelry. At $250 a head, attendees were either rich, or beautiful, or both. Being of neither the former nor latter category, I will deign to place myself in the middle.
There was body paint, dancers, fairies, zoot suits, top hats, riding crops, mustaches, tails (as in tuxedo, not cat), a band, a pianist, singers, and a few other elements I missed entirely or deliberately omitted. Oh yes, and there were models. The boys' attire ranged from conservatively banal (a tuxedo) to rather interesting (combat boots, fishnet stockings, playboy trunks, no shirt, white collar, bow tie, tuxedo jacket). Before you look at the picture, you have one chance to guess on which side of the spectrum I was. The girls were in fishnets, underwear, and feather boas.
The night played out like a Thanks Showcase ad. I think I narrowly avoided (missed?) a ... well, never mind. Needless to say, the champagne was flowing and it was fun. Every moment was like a movie scene or magazine photograph.
I tracked down this photo from the Theatre Junction site:
Me, designer Kendall Yellowhorn, and fellow model Amanda
Apples
The interesting outfits keep coming. Two days ago on Thursday I was up early to sport the most cumbersome garment of my career along with the most extravagant hair style.
The first Thursday of every month features a fashion show at Calgary's downtown Eaton's Centre. This time it was “Brief Encounters II”, the second annual installment of a fund and awareness raiser for prostate cancer. Lots of male models wearing what I feel was most accurately described as “wearable art” though “wearable” is used in the most general sense possible.
The show opened with a piece entitled “Protecting the Beef”, cow patterned shorts complete with thick cow tail enclosed in a suspended barbed wire cage. One of the less cumbersome pieces featured little toy race cars sewn all over a pair of white boxer briefs with little wheels and checkered patterns around the waist. The rest played around themes of sexuality, masculinity, and of course, prostate cancer with varying degrees of wear-ability.
My garment, “Forbidden Fruit” was composed of some stone-wash green boxer briefs, apple-slice suspenders with apple slices going up and down both sides, front and back, and a clear plastic bowl of green apples held by my hands, cantilever suspension, or a combination of the two. I also had an apple “yo-yo” on an elastic string for an accessory and green striped KSwiss trainers for footwear.
My hair was a foot tall, swept back almost like a giant fat mohawk, supported by a steel skeleton of bobby pins and bound with ample hair spray. Real leaves rounded out the hair design.
My face was gold.
I could barely fit through the catwalk entrance.
I tracked down a video segment from City TV: City Style: Brief Encounter. You will catch a two second glimpse of me, sans head, early in the clip. Keep your eyes peeled for green apples.
I suppose I lied when I said there were no pictures or video and I managed to find both. Thanks Showcase! I mean, Internet.
Big Apple
Despite the enjoyment of all these local gigs, I shall be making my return to the International stage in a big way. Next Sunday, the 15th, I am headed to New York City with Fusion Model Management!
I had plans to return to Singapore around now, but when that fell through, I saw the opportunity to visit Cape Town and planned to make the trip in November. It seems Mode sent my pictures to Fusion in Cape Town who forwarded them to Fusion in New York who said “Can he come next week?”.
This is the opportunity of a lifetime and I hope things go well. Fusion is relatively new but already very successful. They are a boutique, editorial agency which is perfect for me and I have already spoken with the bookers on the phone who sound fun, friendly, and cool.
I have lived in Toronto, Hong Kong, Japan, Milan, and Singapore. I have visited countless other cities and countries, and I have even briefly graced the streets of New York. Still, despite a few lifetimes worth of crazy experience and enough stories to mess up all of the punch lines, I have a feeling this will be my grandest adventure yet. Wish me luck!
Audience poll: do you prefer well formed articles or short news bites? As you may have gathered, I prefer creating the former. It takes me, however, about two uninterrupted hours and a significant amount of mental processing to write a nice article. Ideally, I would post short stories frequently and the occasional thoughtful article, but I am far from an ideal person. For most stories I feel a small clip would be an injustice, but is it a greater injustice to omit the story entirely?
If anyone still reads this site, please leave me a comment with your thoughts.