The Sand Dollar by Fifi Leigh at

April 20, Year 2, Sunday excerpt

05/30/2008 22:04
...I watch the hustle and bustle of the crowded studio. The studio is filled with people running around simultaneously in different directions, trying to get their work done without trampling on each other.
Meanwhile, I am getting anxious and bored as I wait for my makeup artist and hairdresser to arrive at this location. This modeling thing is so tedious! Finally, Nicola, the makeup artist, comes to do my face. Then, a wild, funky-looking and bad ass Caucasian young man comes and does my hair. He puts a lame barrette in my hair and sleeks my hair back with gel. I feel so stupid in that look that I keep complaining to him that I need more body to cover the rash on my face. He gets pissed off that I didn’t like the look that he gave me and changes my hair to a fuller style by rubbing gel in his palms, and scrunching and messing up my hair. Another stylist comes to paint my nails in a wild color, as well as drawing some fake tattoos on my arms and legs. Many people, who walk by me, tell me that they love my makeup, the dark red lipstick and the smoky, grayish-brown eye shadow, and they ask me for the name of my makeup artist. I have been sitting in the same chair for so long, with so many people around me, that I forgot most of the people’s names that worked on my look. So, I tell them that I forgot. After taking many pictures in different angles and poses while wearing various interesting outfits, I finally finish the photo shoot at three o’clock. Before I leave, the Art Director tells me that they like my work and want to use one of my pictures for the cover of the magazine. I feel excited but shocked of this news.