Sunday, March 22, 2009

characters of CP/Amanda comes to town!

street/underpass musician in Central ParkWoman selling balloons and cotton candy in Central ParkAmanda, a Vancouver-based designer (http://www.kulusdesigns.com) and one of the bookers at my mother agency Lizbell (www.lizbellagency.com) was in town over the weekend visiting NYC for the first time with 2 of her friends from fashion school, one of whom we recruited to take this photographic masterpiece for us: I love hanging out with people from back home in the cities I travel to! Fingers crossed that a few more make the journey in the next few months!

Saturday, March 21, 2009

blissed out

I went swimming and did some yoga yesterday morning before we left,and then it was time to say goodbye to the warm air, sunny skies, and wrinkly tans of Palm SpringsUntil next time!

I signed the sublease on my UES apartment tonight after vinyasa and meditation classes at Pure, completely high on life (I think I scared by sublettor a little bit)...I am SO stoked to move neighborhoods!! yuppies here I come! I've always heard it said that everybody living in new york is always looking for at least one of three things; an apartment, a boyfriend/girlfriend, or a job. I think that's part of the charm of it, in a way...nyc really is a city where anything can happen. To take the obvious example, you can live in Brooklyn one week and UES the next!

Life=Fun

welcome to The Parker! Where the doors are orange and the valets wear pink pants!after our last day of shooting, Caroline, Juli and I set out to explore Palm Springs,where, as the streetlight banners proclaim, Life=Fun (I'm inclined to think Life=Fun almost anywhere, almost all the time)after a bit of fun all around at a hat store along Palm Springs' main drag, we headed over to Melvyns for drinks. I abstained and promptly departed; I had my sights set on the rocklimbing wall we'd passed on our way through the Thursday night street festival. Having reached the top along every 'route' I descended to peruse the organic fruit stalls, which were brimming with delicious fresh produce.Following some live music viewing of my own, I returned to Melvyns (classic Hollywood stars' hangout-the walls were plastered with photos of the proprietor with numerous famous faces) where Caroline and Juli had been enjoying themselves at the piano bar (which I unfortunately didn't manage to get a clear photo of)...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

desert wednesday


I was unexpectedly given the day off today and set out to put it to use. Yoga, swimming, lounging in the sun! Then, after some poolside lunch, writing, and reading, I took off on one of the hotel's lender bikes for an hour-long exploration of the general area. I had no clue where I was going but managed to cover a bit of ground in all directions, sighting a lot of 'big box stores,' what appeared to be a wind-energy field (numerous large white windmills off on the horizon), vast expanses of desert, a chunk of suburbia, and a golf-course.

It was a wonderful and exhausting day (simply the heat alone is enough to fatigue anyone unaccustomed to the area's weather), and I am liable to fall completely asleep at any second. Call time: 6.30 a.m. tomorrow morning. Provided I'm not struck down by heatstroke, it should prove to be another blissful day. I'm beginning to notice a trend in the quality of the days which my life is comprised of. May the blissful wonderfulness continue!

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

more charming things at hand

I arrived in Palm Springs yesterday, disembarking directly onto the tarmac (and into the heat!!) for the first time in my life.Spent today being made to look elfin-like and don beautiful dressesAnd will be shooting on the DIVINE (and divine smelling-jasmine, roses, lavender, orange blossoms!) grounds of the Parker Meridian hotel for the next two days!

It's a wonderful life. Especially when you're reclining in a hammock strung between palms and wallowing in warm floral scented breezes.

hip hip hooray hate mail!

"funny how you think you are better than models but in all reality are still just a model"

Clearly an uneducated comment (via Facebook's glorious Honesty Box, which I thought I'd long ago deleted), the writer of which I assumed would likely be capable of comprehending only the simplest and most idiotic of responses; "fuck off and find something better to think about." While I didn't intend to waste words in a direct response to someone so clearly unenlightened, this episode did provoke some contemplation, the manifestation of which I'm now expressing via the oh-so-Sophisticated Webpost (aka Blog).

I've been reading up on the essay portion of the SATs (which are a response to a quote or statement) and what the studyguide folks suggest test writers do is identify the claim made and any assumptions inherent in the statement.

Claim: Kyla, in all reality, is just a model.
Assumption: Kyla thinks she is better than models.
Assumption #2: something is funny.

Clearly the second assumption is easiest to address; the writer probably did not mean 'funny' in the usual ha-ha sense of the word, but rather enjoys utilizing superfluous words to introduce their statements.

Moving on to address the first assumption, 'Kyla thinks she is better than models,' I would like to point out the fact that I am a model. Thus the above statement would seem to imply that I think I am better than myself. Humoring the writer of this message, however, I will accede that they likely intended to accuse me of thinking myself superior to 'other' models. This is false in many respects. Firstly, I am certain that there are a number of models who do their jobs much more skillfully than myself (consider, perhaps, the industry acknowledges supermodel extraordinaire Coco Rocha, whom a stylist on a recent shoot informed me sets aside days to practice her jumps-of course I cannot attest to whether or not this information is true, but that one would believe it certainly lends weight to the impression of Coco's skill as a model). I'm sure that if the message-writer were reading this (if I had not blocked them on facebook), they would be exclaiming in frustration, for they intended neither of the aforementionned interpretations.

I believe they were insinuating that I think I am 'too good' for other models. I don't hang out with a large number of models, nor do I party in the model circles. I will not deny that my behaviours are such. But consider also that I do not hang out with a large number of individuals, nor do I party with anyone at all. Consider also that in this world there are people who like to talk about books with other people who like to talk about books, and there are people who like to chug beer with other people who like to chug beer. And then there are people who like to stay in by themselves and read, write, and on occasion blog. To be honest it is true that I am not particularly interested in dull conversation with anyone, model or otherwise, and have had few intellectually stimulating conversations with other models. Yet those few have ranked as some of the best, and I have also eavesdropped upon some which were far beyond my level of knowledge.

The main claim of the message which I have yet to address is that I am 'in all reality, just a model.' Fine if we are defining people solely by their occupations. My brother, then is just a student (that, or just a hockey player). My best friends are just hostesses. Barrack Obama is just the president of the united states. No he's not, hes BARRACK FUCKING OBAMA. Some people who work in fast food restaurants have limited educations. Some don't. Some model snort coke, are not interested in higher education, have eating disorders and bad attitudes. Others don't. My booker Krisana has mentionned other girls with Elite who do rock climbing and one who goes to Harvard. They sound fantastic. But I haven't met them yet because they are rock climbing and going to Harvard and I am reading and writing. I refuse to be defined by my profession; what a terribly unimaginative way to view the world and other human beings! Let's group people according to the colour of shirt they're wearing right this instant, or what they ate for breakfast. No, thank you! I am friends with many people who are very different from myself; I'm too much of a hermit for life to be exciting if I weren't. When I think of the people who have influenced my life, I don't think of their professions. Erica Macdonald, one of my roommates in Paris, was always happy, and proved to me once and for all that there is no reason I can't choose to be as incessantly happy also. When I think of Erica, I don't think 'model,' rather, I hear her shouting "Paris summer 2007!!! YEAHHH!!!" from atop the Eiffel Tower.

So, here it is, my response to that darn honesty box message. While I'm a little embarassed that something so dimwitted could provoke such a lengthy response, now that I've typed it there's no use in erasing it. And I'm sure that it will be better appreciated in this form than as a reply to someone who likely would not understand, and worse, would not care.

Am I a snob? Well, I am particular about my time, and would likely choose to read at a casting, or stay in on a weekend night. I define people not by their professions but their qualities, and choose my friends in a like manner. I would say that I am not a snob anymore than the girls who sit at castings discussing last weekend's parties rather than inquiring as to what I am reading (which is to say, not). But I also identify myself as Kyla rather than 'a model'-this is apparently incomprehensible to some. Thus I am certain many aspects of my conception of reality might be considered strange. For example, I love hate mail. It gives me something to write about.

and P.S., for the record, being Kyla means being a model by occupation as well as a voracious reader and passionate student and lover and liver of life. It also means being stubborn and opinionated and frequently infected by a bad case of travel-bug. It means I drink a lot of licorice spice tea and wear a lot of black and do a lot of yoga. It means that if you send me hate mail, I WILL blog about it, but first I will reply with a proper 'fuck you' response!

Friday, March 13, 2009

dumb and dumber



"Cream short sleeve blouse
Pull over the head."

Don't you just love the detailed (AND printed) instructions given to fashion show 'dressers?' (aka interns cohersed into menial roles by their bossmen and bosswomen)

PART TWO of TRAINTALK...

"It don't cost you NOTHIN' to say 'excuse me!' Have some fuckin' etiquette DON'T PUSH ME"
-Large black man to unseen fellow passenger who supposedly rushed a little too eagerly onto the train, thus compelling LBM to compromise all possible auditory enjoyment in a certain subway car for two stops this morning

"You're not helping the situation by driving like a DICK in the bike lane! You're a VEHICLE!"
-Irate bicycler to a vespa-er who didn't seem to understand English very well (that or he simply couldn't manage to get a word in edgewise with the woman)