FIERCE TRIALS

Fierce. A word I dread for fear of not being able to live up to its standards. I have perfected my picture pose wherein a smile is plastered oh so stratigically across my face that is tilted at just the right angle that ensures a nod of approval the morning after. However, it seems to be a struggle to take an serious pose, well serious. I feel absolutely ridiculous trying to emulate "sexy." But then again I guess it is just as ridiculous to perfect a manufactured smile. All this inner tormoil that exposes itself in the form of uncontrolable laughter was brought about by my last visit to Paris. So often have I thrown a camera in willing strangers hands and let them assume the responsibility of capturing vanity in its purest form. However, only in Pari did I have a nice young fellow question the decision of smile versus serious. I remember clearly the shock and utter indecision that came across my face. I have a pose. ONE that never fails. When my heart is pumping the alcohol through my bloodstream I will be the first to admit that no amount of fashionista driven passion can refrain me from less than fashionable poses. Yet they are just that, poses orchestrated for the camera with the full intent on being an entertainingly favorable representation of myself. But Posh Spice I am not. So from here on out, in accordance with the intentions of this blog I will make every attempt to class myself up to the standards of the fashion world. But I'll be damned when the Vegas in me slips out.

Success / Fail