i used to watch “america’s next top model” hoping one day i’d have the balls to do what those impossibly beautiful people did. (this was when i was fat-lindsay, and weighed 180 pounds and raided 3-4 times a week eating all take-out and ben & jerry’s and not working out. hardcore, I know. i can smell how impressed you all are. don’t lie. we never did finish icc. pugs, man.) 

anyway. this show was instrumental with forming my early modeling career. at the time, i was dating someone who hated models and modeling. he said he hated the way models were so vapid. my words, mind you. he was far more crude in his critique, and vociferous. often. 

as it happened, i would attempt to model and tried to hide that from him, because in youth, apparently, no one puts baby in a fucking corner.

right. so. stealth-modeled like a goddammed ninja for about a year before i stopped for a good….3 years? sad face. come to think of it, modeling was a primary factor in why i left him. huh. 

(tangent: let that be a lesson in the power of self-expression, and how vital it is for your sanity. cuz fuck, dude, i felt so trapped being unable to model at will. you do you. and fuck anyone who tells you to stop. unless you’re causing harm. then stop.) 

once i picked modeling back up again, i had no clue what i wanted to model- just that i wanted to do it, no other reason than it was simply something that pulled me to do. it still does. it’s just how i self-express. 

so, there’s a networking site called model mayhem. that’s how i book shoots for the most part. these photos were from a fantastic photographer i synced up with who had booked a studio for a day (common for photogs on a budget) and who was doing editorial. there was a stylist there too. i love that shit: makes my life way easier. and i love editorial, and wanted to do more of it. 

there was a very tall, very thin model who was shooting as i arrived, and accompanying her was (obviously) her mother and grandmother. this model was super young. initially i thought she was 16, 18 at most. she was also meme-worthy awkward: cheesy cheerleader/school photo awkward. and the harpy eyes of her relatives i’m sure was not helping. come to find out from her mother: she was 12 (!?!?!?!?) and this as her first shoot (made sense) and did i know any good dance schools in the area. uh. 

they ask if they could watch me shoot, i said no problem. and when i sat in that armchair, my legs threaded through the armrests like a fucking lady, that’s when i called on the power of tyra stance.

tyra banks is one of the most beautiful women in the world. i’ve idolized her for yeeeeeeeeears. google her if you’re unfamiliar. and when i channel tyra, i recall this one episode of america’s next top model where she demonstrates the fierce eye-squint she is so famous for. 


guys listen.

guys listen here.

my mind. blown.

so when i snap into tyra stance, i get shots like this. 

wings on my back legs.  





i fucking love photoshop. it can make someone like me look like an evil fucking bitch. admittedly, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. in fact, looking harder than i actually am can only be a win for me. right?

anyway. following my post yesterday about the academy of art, this was the very first shoot i did at the school…. waaaay back in 2012.

what i like about this shit is that it’s super conceptual, hair and makeup took 3+ hours (always something i relish, truly) and the photographer was very quick.

gg connie gao.

dark queen


 in san francisco, we have a great opportunity to work with the academy of art because they own, like, 3-fucking-percent of the buildings in the city. and by great, i mean you kinda have no choice. 

as it happens two of the most quality shoots i’ve done have been at the academy campus near union square. newbie note: the surrounding neighborhood (the tenderloin) is horrifying and is rife with npc’s. bath salts, man. don’t fucking do it. 

this shoot was part of a series done by a great photographer (nadya), and i got some epic head shots from her as well. i fucking look like cersei lannister and shit.

 bitch is gonna cut you. 

like a birthday cake.

also look at those god dammed cheekbones. bask in their glory. 


star wars

the first movie i ever saw was a new hope. it’s still one of my top 5 all time favorite movies. that french horn when binary sunset comes on while luke is gazing across the great chott salt flat on tatooine contemplating his existence? fucking goosebumps. fuck.

i played episode 1: racer constantly on my n64. religiously. and fuck the boonta eve classic track.  fuck it right in the face. ugh. bullseye was the man though. rekt.

in 8th grade, i was so into episode 1 that i would do my hair like padme amidala with braids and loops and shit. the shitty unimaginative kids i was forced to go to school with made fun of me. so i stopped. upon reflection, the ramifications of that era in my life are far reaching. what the fuck, normal people? you’re even worse when you’re a kid, you know, and it’s all downhill from there. ugh, pleebs.

i can write an entire book about my star wars boner. instead, i’ll rely on semi-skanky pictures illustrating my dedication to the cause. because fucking star wars. i have no idea what these pictures have to do with my nerdgasm, but, whatever, MTFBWY


scruffy-looking nerfherder

all that glitters

is not gold

so there was this one time i had a hair up  my ass about glitter. most people hate glitter. it’s known as raver herpies in some communities i hang out in. it permeates everything. think you showered and got it all off? think again, asshole. that shit shows up weeks later. want just a little bit of glitter? too bad, jerkwad. you’re getting all of it everyfuckingwhere. 12775977355_882276ff39_h

so anyways, there i was, thinking glitter. i wanted a glittershoot. like craaazy. i rounded up bestiefriends chalyce and stefani, and i went and bought 4 pounds of glitter.

chalyce let us use her house, and we laid a navy blue sheet on the floor, lit the fucker up, and dumped the entire container of glitter out. and then rolled around on it. we shot from above. it was glorious. it was everything i wanted. it was glitter.

did i mention the fuckton of glitter?

the cleanup was hilarious, and chalyce got into some hot water from her roommate, because, glitter. and instead of dusting off the glitter before going home, i tossed my clothes on and went home to shower.

we found glitter literally everywhere.

for weeks.

because fucking glitter.

i’m an asshole
pearl necklace bitches

no wonder people hate me.


oil in my haaaair
and now it’s on this person’s bed gg

modeling is more than just looking pretty being comfortable in front of a camera. knowing your angles is vastly important, and knowing your angles in light-specific scenarios is even more important. being aware of what your forehead is doing, your thumb, your elbows, your chin… all of it requires you feel how each of those things look (as in, what does your forehead feel like when your brow is wrinkled v what it feels like when you’re relaxed.) mirrors are your friend. which is great, because all that time you spend looking in the mirror loses you friends. at least emotionally…

another slick trick i picked up last year was the miracle of baby oil. literally coating yourself in a thick sheen of oil does wonderful things when combined with skin+light.

you go from cottage-cheese thighs, undefined lumberjack arms and some nastyass… ass… to reflective, glowy polished plastic.

like magic.

or photoshop.

but not.

protip: baby oil fucking sucks because it gets everywhere. use with clothes you don’t give a fuck about.

photos by mike thompson (lightenupandshoot)


gettin skanky in the desert

my former boss, and #1 best photographer NA, mikeB and i traveled around southern california in the late summer, deciding to do a roaming photoshoot of sorts as we cruised for locations. this guy is not only one of my most favorite photographers (his composition, lighting and color is unbelievable) he’s also one of my favorite people on the planet ever. lucky me i get to be his guinea pig.

on a whim, we took highway 14 east off of the main highway 5 at the grapevine in southern california, and randomly found this grove of joshua/yucca trees on some dude’s property. once we parked, my top came off. fucking duh.

what i love about these shots is not only the composition of late morning sun, black dress and semi-desert location, but also mike’s lens. i call it the jj abrams-flare-o-matic. it shoots in this craaaaazy-wide cinemascope, and if you hit it with just the right light, lens flares for daaaaays and shit. it’s super epic and grandiose, which is how i like my stuff.

so there we go.


lindsay pulling her top off.