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Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 23, 2006 16:58:36 GMT -5
The opening bash at Galerie Quatre was today. Scarlett had modeled in a lot of the pictures, and her family was thinking of purchasing part of it. Either way, it was set to become a new 'it' spot for the jet-setting New York City crowd, including filmmakers, photographers, and haute couture models. No B-List yet.
The party was beginning in the evening, at seven. Scarlett always arrived to events an hour late, because showing up early was decidedly overeager. Plus, she had to leave some time between shoots, meals, and friends to get ready.
It was an A-List event, so only the best of clothing could be worn. She had purchased a new dress, casual, simple, vintage-inspired, but not too dressy. It was a Foley & Corinna creation, one of her new favorite designers. The sleeves were long, and it was tight black cotton, ending at her mid-thigh. The skirt was straight, there was no embellishment. It dipped a bit in the back, showing some of her shoulderblades in a flattering V shape. The neckline was high and simple.
With this she paired red patent leather Prada stilettos, to give her a little height. She also fastened a matching red patent leather Fendi belt high up on her tiny waist, only making her shape more flattering. A red Prada clutch was in her hands, holding only the essentials--DuWop mint lip venom, her credit card, and her cell phone.
Her slightly curly blond hair bounced as she walked out the door, in almost a perfect imitation of the walk she had done at the Anna Sui show in Milan. Her mother followed behind her, after promising to keep a safe distance away. Again, a light snow was falling.
Scarlett got out of the cab after a fifteen minute ride. Damn traffic. Her shoes made it difficult to walk, but she was practiced. The gallery was hopping. Waiters served flutes of Veuve Cliquot champagne, dressed in head-to-toe black slacks and silk button-up shirts. Trendy people dressed in shades of black and grey looked at the pictures, talking and gossiping.
This was where she belonged.
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Post by Kerstin Vought on Nov 23, 2006 19:12:13 GMT -5
Stepping up the few steps the lead a person into the gorgeous Galerie Quatre, Kerstin made her way towards its thick glass doors and made an effort to push them open, bearing all ‘muscle’. She was here alone, catching a cab on the far north side of the large and overpopulated city. The traffic was horrific today and was not helping with Kerstin’s mood. Her brother and father had gotten into an argument earlier that day...she needed space and time to be alone.
Stepping inside, Kerstin glanced around at the buildings beauty.
Perfect.
Sporting so much as a Donna Ricco black, lace, and silk halter, Kerstin smiled at the many people surrounding her. She felt happier already. It was hard when her family got into their disagreements, and it was rather awkward when it happened, seeing as her family was closer than ever. These ‘fights’ rarely came around and to her this one was just silly. A breath was expelled from the young woman as she tucked a fallen bang behind her ear. The lightweight black handbag was clutched within her grip as she started for the new set of photos she had yet to see.
There was almost this passion in her that wanted to be a photographer when she grew up. As she neared each new photo, the passion grew and her dream became more than a wish. She would start working towards this goal when she had the free time. School was her main importance now, she needed to work hard in order to be successful, at least that was what her mother had told her. But maybe this goal was not even realistic. She wasn’t practicing this everyday, nor did she even own a professional camera. But did all that really matter right then? If the dream was wanted badly, it could come true, right?
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Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 23, 2006 20:10:17 GMT -5
Scarlett smiled around at the gallery. The scents were mingling to create a delicious mix--the light, fading fumes of gunmental gray paint, a mix of upscale perfumes, mostly Dior Poison and Scarlett's Cartier original, and then the canvas that the photographs were printed on. It was perfect--not as stuffy as a formal dinner, not as crazy and sweaty as a club, more chic than a quick bite to eat.
She migrated toward her favorite set of pictures, taken in an old, fading garden in a seventeeth to eighteenth century castle in London. Normally that would have been a frumpy subject, but the mixture of vintage clothes, black and white, and that perfect forgotten air made the portraits edgy and modern. The model? Her. That was how she knew so much about the project.
The photographer had combined the forgotten air of the garden with her so perfectly, it was like she was indeed a remnant of those glorious days long gone. In one she was tiny, slouched against an arch and outfitted in a silvery satin babydoll top and leggings. Another great one was a blurry photo, reminiscent of a snapshot, with her legs dangling in an antique stone fountain, filled with rainwater. Her vintage Versace shift, simple black chiffon, was up around her ankles.
Picture perfect--no pun intended. |
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Post by Kerstin Vought on Nov 23, 2006 20:27:20 GMT -5
Trailing along the blank white walls, dotted with the black and white photos, Kerstin smiled at each, wanting to have her fingers brush them all, but fought the urge. Then there were Scarlett’s pictures. They were beautiful. Though she wasn’t jealous of the girl, Kerstin wished she had the kind of body that Scarlett had. She chuckled to herself. So, in somewhat of a way she wanted to be the perfect model—as Scarlett obviously was, but in another, Kerstin still wanted her dream to take flight. Sure, she had been to a few photo shoots, hello, this /was/ New York, but she hasn’t hit it big time and she never thought she would.
Speak of the devil.
There, across the room, stood Scarlett and all her beauty. Okay, let’s stop with the commenting on the same sex.
Kerstin continued to browse the many portraits and all that had surrounded her. She could almost smell the fresh air from one of the pictures that captured a meadow with a model running through it. It all seemed to real, Kerstin could place herself within the photo, feeling the very wind whip through her hair, but then she was back in New York—the place she wished to escape.
If it weren’t for her family, she’d be gone already, but that didn’t seem to be an option any more.
After each step, she neared Scarlett. She might as well talk to her--being social was her thing. Then there was the far off call, seemingly from years before. ‘Scarlett.’ It seemed like an old-time movie. Her name fit the scene perfectly.
Kerstin put on a smile and casually made her way towards the other, stepping gracefully in the one-inch black heels that accompanied her small feet.
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Post by Scarlett Lehoux on Nov 30, 2006 15:39:41 GMT -5
A waiter approached and handed her a glass of champagne. She took it, nodded, and raised her lips for a tiny sip. She drank, yes, but her mother had taught her to do so in moderation--most of the time. She was a really, really easy drunk, so she had learned how to be wise. Partially so.
She glanced down the room, past all the executives, other models (some she smiled at with a polite wave), filmmakers, upcoming artists, photographers, and the upper elite of New York City. There was a pretty girl she recognized vaguely from school. She had really pretty eyes. As she glanced Scarlett's way, she flashed a smile.
No reason to be a bitch--she seemed sweet.
She then looked up at another picture, this one from a series of Scandinavian models in naturally amazing spots. There was the one that the dark-haired girl had just been looking at, of a meadow, and then one with a girl raising her arms--the shot was from the back--in front of the end of a beach sunset. Another was a girl dipping her feet in a stream, probably in Iceland somewhere. It only made her appreciate everything around her more. It was so difficult to capture what the model wanted, what your boss wanted, and your vision all in one. [/size] |
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Post by Kerstin Vought on Nov 30, 2006 16:07:51 GMT -5
As Scarlett glanced her way, Kerstin started for the other girl. This may have seemed...strange? But how else did you make friends? Hmm?
Kerstin’s black heels clicked across the tiled flooring of the Galerie. Once she approached Scarlett, she greeted her with a soft hello, glancing towards the photos on the wall, trying to add more of a casual vibe.
Kerstin crossed her arms over her chest, keeping herself warm as people entered and exited the building, allowing large gusts of cool wind to flow through the open door.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Kerstin noticed the glass of champagne within Scarlett’s hands. She didn’t look like much of a drinker, but then again, Kerstin wasn’t one to judge anyone by looks...usually.
She scanned the room for a minute, locating the waiter who had been passing out drinks. He looked back at Kerstin, catching her stare and held up a glass as to offer it. Kerstin shook her head. She wasn’t exactly in the mood, and she’d rather not end up being thrown out of the Galerie.
How embarrassing, let alone childish.
Now that would be gossip.
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