The following is an excerpt of a piece featured on xojane.com
There is, somewhere in the NoMad district of New York City, a modeling office with my card still on the wall, even though I know and my bookers know and everyone in accounting knows that I’m not modeling anymore.
Like a relationship that both parties have let fade off into oblivion instead of directly cutting the cord, we’ve both chosen to phase each other out, quietly and with mutual disinterest. After 10 years as a walking coat hanger, all the phone calls and bookings and flights are over. Fin, done, kaput.
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