How To Be Pretty

What is a day in the life for me? Oh, I’m so glad you asked.

It usually begins with me opening my eyes to the same ceiling I do every other morning and refusing to get up until the last possible second (usually when I have to move my car to keep from getting a ticket) even though I told myself the night before that I was going to wake up and be productive, start the day with a workout and some coffee shop R&R before tackling my one-itemed agenda.

My first conscious thoughts are about my skin and how clear it is that day. Of course, this ultimately sets the tone for how my next 24 hours will be- how pretty I am. Because that is my trade. I am a model, and models meant to be beautiful. Not only that, but I live smack-dab in the middle of Hollywood, where it is a requirement to be beautiful. So my next step is obviously to wash my face and brush my teeth before heading downstairs to the bougie grocery store ($25 yogurt parfaits!!) so I can buy some sort of superfood, collagen-infused, probiotic bullshit to eat for breakfast in hopes of promoting that ~healthy glow~

If I haven’t already checked social media, (def have) this is the point where I robotically explore my feed and also repetitively assess my own profile, play with possible pictures to post but never actually post anything because of the overwhelming anxiety it gives me and the fluster of stubborn, recurring thoughts that nothing is good enough, no one cares, or that I look like a straight-up clown. Meanwhile, I’ve got a growing list of money makers, million-dollar ideas and opportunities, things that actually MATTER sitting on a shelf collecting dust because I can’t get out of the goddamn mirror.